Brooklyn, Briefly

 

The view from Gowanus.

 

My goal was making it to Finback. I was in New York for about a day and five-eighths, and on that full day I would be exiting a video shoot one mile away from their Brooklyn taproom. Finback is the Queens brewery known for its juicy IPAs, but focused, dialed in creations that have made admirers of brewers even here in Portland. I always end up in a lager haus when I travel, and by god I was going to drink some IPA.

My shoot was near Carrol Gardens, through which I was soon strolling, and I got the distinct impression I was near my friend Chris McClellan’s apartment. Sure enough, he was three blocks away when I called. An hour and two beers later, I was leaving him, still determined to get to Finback. I needed to eat, though, which meant a stop at Threes, the only brewery nearby serving food. That was no hardship—I love Threes and especially their foeder-aged (though not quite “American”) pilsner.

 
 

En Route, Chris texted to let me know he’d pinged Brett Taylor at Wild East that I was in town and would be stopping by. No problem, I thought. In a span of a quarter mile in Gowanus you can visit Threes, Wild East, Finback, and Strong Rope (yet another brewery everyone was mentioning on social media—they do cask). It wasn’t yet 4pm and I had all evening.

I visited Brooklyn two and a half years ago and stopped in at four breweries. Read about them here.

I had a burger and a couple (small) beers at Threes. The Kicking and Screaming was as lush and rustic as I recalled, and the flagship IPA Logical Conclusion, which I’d somehow never manage to taste, was spectacular. Night was settling as I arrived at Wild East. Brett was in a meeting, so I sat down and looked at the taplist, which contained four decocted Czech lagers. I settled in with a mug of the 10º pale lager and struck up a conversation with the wonderful bartender Maria Shirts, an erstwhile journalist from Brazil, and thoughts of Finback drifted to the far corners of my mind.

You know how these things go. By the time Brett joined us, Maria had already cracked a bottle of Apis Ethereal, a wild honey rye saison and we were deep into conversation about European beer. Maria has traveled extensively, and we merrily were comparing notes. Just before five, Chris texted to say he’d join us there by 6:30. That Finback plan was in real jeopardy now.

Wild East’s lagers were incredible. They capture the essence of Czech brewing wonderfully, and the beer I started with was a perfect example. Called Little Patience (the full-strength Czech Pils is Patience and Fortitude), it’s just 3.8%, but you’d never know it. Poured from a Czech-style side-pour, it was full-bodied and rich, a testament to the decoction. Brett added a stiff dose of lemony Saaz, which provided a bright, sharp ribbon of bitterness. His other lagers were excellent, but the tmavý, Fervor and Definace, deserves special mention.

Maria Shirts and Brett Taylor

Little Patience

One of the great challenges in making a Czech dark lager is creating a profile that doesn’t taste German. Brewers can do part of that with technique—decoction adds body and creaminess without sweetness—but ultimately the character comes from Czech malts. It’s hard to describe their unique flavors, but brown bread (maybe even a hint of pumpernickel) and berries are often part of the mix. Whatever he used, Brett managed a very Czech profile. Perfect for winter drinking.

I met Brett a few years ago when I was doing Jimmy Carbone’s radio show. Wild East was underway, but still not open and, when he wasn’t doing radio shows, Brett was splitting his time brewing at Fifth Hammer and trying to build out his new space. When he described Wild East’s concept at the time, he highlighted wild ales as a focus—hence the name. Lagers, it seems, sort of snuck up on him. Even he seemed mystified by the taplist, which looked like something out of Salem, MA. Lagers had always been part of the plan, but through that organic communication that happens between brewery and drinker, people were starting to ask for the pivos.

I left the brewery around eleven, having tasted through a lot of Brett’s beers. I had tried to avoid going straight to a lager brewery when I walked into Wild East, thinking even then I was on target. I planned on seeing Finback and painting my tongue green with hops.

But beer cares nothing for my plans. It has its own agenda. Stepping into my midtown hotel and glancing out at the Empire State Building, I had no regrets.