When a Brewery Feels Like a Snooty Winery
The tasting room, situated to take in the mountain view.
Note: See a response from owner Katrina McAlexander in comments below, which describes some of what I experienced. She points out the dearth of workers in Parkdale, which contributes to the set-up, and given that workers are hard to find in Portland, I’m sure she’s right about tiny Parkdale!
You may recall that an obscure brewery scored a huge upset win at the recently-concluded Oregon Beer Awards. Mountain View Brewing, launched during Covid and perched on the northern flank of Mt. Hood, managed to sneak a silver medal in hazy IPA. When the brewery’s name flashed up on the screen announcing the win, I suspect the immediate reaction of everyone watching the awards was: who? It was certainly mine.
Sally and I spent a day on the mountain yesterday, tromping up a snowy trail to Tamanawas Falls, and retiring afterward to this curious new brewery. The curiosities began when we arrived and learned that no one was permitted inside the building without a reservation. The vast lawn in front of the building was strewn with picnic tables, in view of a tulip field, orchards, and the base of Mt. Hood (though clouds blocked sight of its magnificent peak). It was a sunny day and we were planning to sip al fresco anyway, so we happily headed around the side of the building to find the beer.
Beer and brewing aren’t the first or even second concerns of the business. I figure they’re the fourth. One of the scores of orchards in the Hood River Valley, pears and apples have been the central focus of Mt. View Orchards for three generations. Later came cider, a way to monetize the fruit popular in the valley. In 2016, Katrina McAlexander, niece of the founders of Elk Cove Winery, planted grapes there. The building onsite is a winery tasting room, with a wall of windows directed toward the mountains. It’s for small farms to make money in the valley, which is why so many have turned to cider. Wine is increasingly common there, and Mountain View Orchards now seems to be leading the pack with its estate brand, Grateful Vineyard wines.
Beer feels very much like an afterthought, and I wonder if the owners added it because this region is one of the strongest in the country for beer. Solera is a couple miles away, and down the mountain is Hood River, with pFriem, Double Mountain, and Full Sail. In lieu of a pub, Mountain View set up a provisional tent like you’d find at a beer fest, with four beers pouring. When I asked if they had half-pints (I was a 90-minute drive from home), the server looked at me blankly, as if such an idea had never occurred to him.
The beer was excellent. They had the award-winning hazy on tap, and it was lush, fruity, and soft, all while being balanced and fairly dry. I don’t know if this is still part of the brewery’s approach, but the website claims all the beer contains fruit, even if you can’t taste it. (“The quantity of Anjou pears we use is well below the threshold for a noticeable flavor contribution but is a unique addition because we are operating a microbrewery in our orchard and is a good way to incorporate our fruit to our libations.”) I certainly couldn’t taste it in the Pilsner, which was accomplished, with zesty herbal hopping and a nice bready malt base.
The brewery is just a four-barrel kit, and a visiting brewer, Jordan Hunt, comes once a week to make new batches. He formerly brewed at Silver Moon and Sunriver, and holds down a different day job in Bend. According to Brian Yaeger, the reason the brewery uses pear juice has to do with its farm-brewing license. Hunt clearly knows what he’s doing—he’s able to make excellent beers even while using fruit juice. Unfortunately, because of the brewery’s size and personnel constraints, it doesn’t look like they’re ever going to have more than a handful of beers on at any given time.
View from the tasting room.
I actually took this photo two miles away and a few hours earlier—but it’s roughly what visitors see.
Tulip field.
Mountain View is situated on a gorgeous patch of land, and on a sunny day, it’s an amazing place to enjoy a pint. The farm invited folks to clip a tulip bouquet if they wished. The server was gracious and accommodating, happily offering to sell me a half-filled plastic glass of beer for half price. He managed to track down some cherry stout another customer wanted, but which wasn’t on tap at the time.
Yet the vibe of the place was unusual and, if I’m being honest, off-putting for a punter like me. I have been to a lot breweries, and I can’t ever remember feeling anything but welcomed. Being barred from entry and directed outside—even if that’s what we wanted to do anyway—felt oddly exclusionary. You may enter the building to use the facilities, but even if the tasting room is empty, as it was yesterday at 4pm, one is not allowed a seat. (Savvy visitors might think to reserve a table from the parking lot—or even the foyer of the building.) Perhaps this is a wine thing—though I haven’t seen it in my visits to the Yamhill County wineries. We talk a lot about the many failures of beer to be inclusive, but this reminded me that it has some successes, too. Public houses are, you know, for the public.
It’s a new operation, so maybe they’ll discover that beer drinkers who make a long drive to try their beer are out off by this experience. Or maybe beer drinkers won’t be. I’d still recommend stopping in. The view is incredible, and the beer is worth seeking out. But if it starts raining, be sure to head over to Solera, instead. Their pub is small, but it’s open to the public.