Organics and fruit?

I’m not an organic beer fan. As far as I’m concerned, most good beer that’s not mass-produced is good enough for me, organics be damned. Malt, water, yeast and hops are the primary ingredients in higher-end beers including the crafts and imports, and they generally don’t contain adjuncts or preservatives. Unless you’re a purist, why spend the extra money? Flavor is what counts the most for me, and unless those certified organic ingredients make the beer taste better enough to justify the increased cost, I’ll pass.

In fairness, I have had organic beer that’s easily as good as non-organic beer; the organic-ness certainly doesn’t do the beer any harm, but organic-ness isn’t going to make a diamond out of a lump of coal.

I feel the same way about fruit beer, but for different reasons. I’m just not a big fan unless it’s background fruit used as an accent in an authentic Belgian lambic. For example, a mass-produced raspberry wheat beer that uses fruit extracts or even artificial flavors altogether doesn’t do me any good, but a puckering, sour-ish, cherry-infused Flander’s red ale (think Rodenbach Alexander) makes my socks go up and down.

Three organic fruit beers were foisted on me recently and I was smitten.

Samuel Smith’s organic fruit beer is nothing short of incredible. Given my own personal challenges with organic and fruit beers, I was a skeptic, but not even the discriminating Fermento can turn down free beer. It sat in my refrigerator for the better part of a week before I hauled it off to my remote mining camp, knowing that down there I would have some less discriminating palates to pass it off to should it not pass my muster.

I’ve had other Samuel Smith’s beer before and have been pleased with the likes of Taddy Porter, a benchmark within the style, Nut Brown Ale, another stalwart, defining beer and even the brewery’s seasonal Winter Welcome, but only when these beers come to us fresh and not so travel weary. Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery is in Tadcaster, North Yorkshire, England. It’s not like this stuff is FedEx’d to us over here. Most of the time beer from across the pond tosses around in the bowls of some freighter on the way to our East Coast, then is either trucked or rail shipped to Seattle where it’s re-distributed up here to us, again, either by barge or truck. Some of it may come ashore on the West Coast; I don’t know—either way, heat and time take their toll on a beer’s stability.

I didn’t alert the others in camp what I was up to, and secretly poured a sample of the first one I tried, Samuel Smith’s Organic Strawberry Ale. I was surprised that the beer poured orange/amber with a very faint red tinge rather than blood red. This was actually a good sign; beer made with real fruit doesn’t impart the dye-like colors that concentrates or artificial flavorings do. I took a tentative sniff. Then another. Then I found that I almost couldn’t keep my nose out of the stuff. It smelled exactly like very fresh strawberry preserves. I was entirely blown away. A good strawberry beer is tough to come by. My experience is that real fruit or not, somehow, in combination with malt and hops, strawberries in beer come out dryish and chalky tasting. Not this one. I closed my eyes and smelled and tasted again. Instantly I was digging up more sampling glasses to play this game on my cohorts in camp. “Close your eyes and smell this,” I challenged. Unanimously, fresh strawberries or strawberry jam was the consensus. I couldn’t wait to dig into the others.

Next, I popped the top on the Samuel Smith’s Organic Raspberry Ale. My reaction wasn’t as profound, but that’s probably because my head was still buzzing with the allure of the first one. Still, again the consensus was we were drinking the real deal here. In both cases thus far, the fruit is prominently featured, but amazingly, both malt and hops come out as well. The hops, of course, are simply doing a juggling act, keeping both the fruit from being too cloying and the malt from being sappy, but there was a no-kidding hop flavor that didn’t for a second fight with anything else. Again, the real fruit flavor and the freshness are intense in this beer.

I saved what I was hoping would be the best for last: Samuel Smith’s Organic Cherry Ale. The beer pours mahogany and slightly red in color with a pink tinge to the head. The aroma is strong, sweet and alluring. The same fruit, malt and hop dance plays out on the palate for a perfectly balanced beer. If this stuff is fresh, like the others, expect intensity in fruit aroma and flavor. I have had world class Belgain fruit lambics that feature cherries, and will admit that I’ve had better, but much of this comes from preference, not the beer’s quality. A slight tart note is very appropriate in this style and Smith’s delivers, but for me, a dead ringer is when I can even taste some essence of the cherry pit. This was absent, but certainly no defect.

Would I run out and buy this beer again? Certainly. Would I drink a lot of it? Probably not, but that’s not because this stuff isn’t worthy. Each of these beers is heavy and filling, and that’s by design. These are not intended to be tossed back with abandon, but rather slowly and thoroughly enjoyed, much like I did, with a discerning, appreciative group of friends.

What food would pair well with these sweets? Possibly something (and the brewery’s website offers some ideas) but I won’t make any suggestions. Enjoy them for what they are, possibly for dessert or as a special treat. I’m sure the culinary artists out there have minds that are going a mile a minute; I’m sure preparing food with these wonders would be great. But I’m a different kind of drinker.

If you have someone that you’ve wowed before with the likes of the Lindemans Framboise, Kriek, or Peche (raspberry, cherry and peach) candy beers, give these a whirl. Lindeman’s makes a fine product, but at least in the Samuel Smith’s line up, you can still tell you’re drinking beer.

Expect to find these in bottles only at the finer liquor stores around town. And expect to pay a little more for them. I’m okay with that, because this time it’s worth the cost. Oh, and remember: Beer’s not just for breakfast any more, but don’t get caught drinking this brand of fruit juice at work.

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