Some aspects of zythology (the study of beer and brewing) remain a mystery to this day. One such aspect is the exact mechanism by which the changing of the seasons is echoed by the changing of the malts used in beer.
How is it that the sunny yellow of pilsner is supplanted by the dusky ambers, browns, and blacks of roasted malts? Why is it that the fresh, light biscuit of the summer is replaced by the toasted, warm caramel and roast of fall and early winter? Is it entirely a fact of tradition? Part of a long culinary history of people serving heartier, “warmer” foods and beverages when it is colder outside? Or, is it perhaps dictated by the natural order somehow—a sort of fait accompli that we merely perceive to be a choice due to our limited understanding of the inner workings of the universe?
In short, do we make dark beer, or does dark beer make us?
Alas, I claim no special insight into this matter, and must resign myself to singing the song of dark beer this time of year regardless. However, as a matter of resistance, I’ll focus on the “lighter” end, and stick with dark lagers. There’s time enough for their maltier and boozier ale cousins in the depths of winter.
Schell's Brewery: Schell’s Dark
Dark lager / 4.8% ABV / 20 IBU
What can I say? If there's a beer that tastes like fall/winter in Minnesota, it’s Schell’s Dark. I’ve been buying 12 packs of this stuff for over 15 years, and I’ve yet to be disappointed.
If you “don’t like dark beers,” Schell’s Dark would beg to differ. It’s a solid first, hopeful beer of your Thanksgiving get-together. You know, before your brother-in-law brings up the election, and any semblance of family togetherness dissolves in an instant, and you wonder why you ever even hope for anything other than complete nonsense to come tumbling out of his dumb mouth, leaving the entire room dumber for having heard it, and reinforcing your belief that it was a mistake to come and that you ought to just do separate Thanksgivings after all—even if the idea makes mom sad.
Where was I? Oh, yes, Schell’s Dark has a light caramel malt flavor with an equally light noble hop herby bitterness. It all adds up to a faint pretzel vibe. Presumably a dunkel at one point, Schell’s Dark is now about as American as hot dogs, but like, in a good way.
Humble Forager Brewery: Hook Setter
Amber lager / 5% ABV / ?? IBU
What is life without the humble amber lager? Don’t answer. I don’t want to know.
Hook Setter, from Rochester's Humble Forager Brewery, is about as solid an amber as I’ve had recently. It’s all bread and toast, toast and bread. And, at least to my palate, black tea. The malt comes through nice and even, with just enough bitterness to keep it from being sweet, while the body is light enough that the carbonation really shines. I’ve only tried fishing exactly once: at eight years old, near a campground my family went to occasionally, and where the image of a worm being skewered by a fish hook was seared into my memory forever.
So, I may be missing some important angle that makes this beer especially delicious while fishing, given the name and can design. However, based on my testing it’s pretty good for sitting on your couch with your partner rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the third time as a way to distract yourself from the way the world is. So, there’s that.
Unmapped Brewing Co.: Flannel Roots Fall Lager
Märzen / 5.4 ABV / 29 IBU
A märzen in November?!?! Yup. In fact, this might be a controversial opinion, but I think a märzen is better in November than it is in late September/early October, especially American märzens which tend to be bigger and bolder than traditional märzens. This one from Minnetonka's Unmapped Brewing follows that pattern with a toasty aroma, and a very toasty malt profile—more than I expected for a märzen.
It’s surprisingly effervescent, and quite enjoyable. If you’re not a pumpkin pie person, you could pour this on some ice cream and have yourself a beer float while the rest of your relatives eat a substandard frozen dessert and act like it’s really good so your uncle feels like he contributed something to Thanksgiving dinner.
Modist Brewing Co.: Oak-Aged Pretty Metal
Dark lager / 4.5% ABV / ?? IBU
Has anyone gotten sick of me reviewing oak-aged lagers from Modist yet? No? Well, they keep making them, and I keep liking them. So if you are sick of me talking about them, bring it up with Modist. The basic Pretty Metal is a tasty dark lager, but the oak-aged version is just *chefs kiss.* Also, when Modist says “dark lager” they mean dark. But don’t let that fool you, it’s a very light and refreshing beer.
Some of that comes down to Modist’s use of midnight wheat, a very dark malt made to give beers a dark color without any of the bitterness or astringency associated with normal black malt. It also adds some body and sweetness without turning the beer into a roast bomb. Really, it’s fantastic stuff. Scientists, man. What are they gonna do next? Pretty Metal is still lightly roasty, though, with a very balanced flavor, and the oak in this version—as always—is appreciated.
Schram Haus Brewery: Nacht Nacht
Schwarzbier / 5.1% ABV / ?? IBU
I’d never actually had Schram Haus’ stuff until recently when it popped up at a couple local liquor stores. I’m happy to report that I’m quite excited to try more from the Chaska brewery. Nacht Nacht is a great schwarzbier. It’s roasty, smooth, and malty fading to a light astringency. It has lots of body for a beer that’s only 5.1% ABV. Drinking it reminds me of how adults would always sit around the table after holiday meals growing up, warm cups of coffee in hand, drinking and talking through the food coma until eventually someone got out the cards and decided that the time for pleasantries was over, and the time for humiliating each other through Canasta was at hand.
