The Beer Taster's Notebook

  • Jonathan Thompson

    The Ten Rules of Beer Tasting

    1. Glassware matters- Use a stemmed glass that tapers inward
    2. Temperature matters- The bigger the beer the higher the temperature. 3℃-13℃ is the range
    3. Size matters- Fill the glass no more than halfway
    4. Foam matters- Raise some head
    5. Time matters- Spend as much time on each aspect as needed
    6. Light matters- Keep the beer away from sunlight
    7. Smell matters- Aroma is the number one contributor to flavour, taste beer in an odour neutral environment
    8. Swirling matter- Swirl the beer, it’s not just for wine
    9. Finish matters- Spend as much time after swallowing as before
    10. Fun matters- It’s only beer 
  • The Worst (and Best) Glasses for Beer

    Jonathan Thompson

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    The Worst (and Best) Glasses for Beer

    Excluding paper cups, coffee mugs and plastic, the worst glass for beer is arguably the shaker pint. Unfortunately, many other beer glasses aren’t much better.

    First of all, the shaker was never meant for beer. This is of course slightly less relevant because a lot of things were never intended for their current use. Occasionally, the novel use ends up being a better application anyways. But the shaker pint fails on many levels. When you stack them, which you shouldn’t do, the top glass forces outward pressure on the one below and so forth. They can become stuck and eventually chip or break. This is a problem for the barkeep and less so for the drinker, but they look bad and cheap, and this is a problem for everyone. No one wants a cheap looking wine glass, and no one should want a cheap looking beer glass either.

    The major issue with the shaker pint is that the shape is neither conducive to aroma nor foam. Both of these are very important.

    Slight upgrades to the shaker are the seidel, dimpled mug, nonic pint, tulip pint, Willi Becher etc. They all have a slightly improved shape and come steeped in tradition. Tradition is fine, but traditionally, we treated illnesses with leaches, and traditionally, a hot dog came with a glove instead of a bun. Traditional does not always mean better.

    These glasses all have something in common, they are cylindrical. The weizen glass, and the pilsner glass, also cylindrical, are designed to support a nice cap of foam. Foam is important as I will continue to say, but it still doesn’t solve the major issue with shape.

    Beer is a complex beverage, full of volatile aromatic compounds, and aroma is the basis for flavour. Simply eat something with your nose plugged and then unplug it if you are skeptical. These aromas need a place to gather, co-mingle, and remain somewhat captive. While the cylinder may allow for adequate volatilization, the aroma molecules simply exit the glass. A good analogy is this: There are twelve people in one room. The exit to the room is six people wide. In another room, the exit is two people wide. A fire starts at the make your own taco bar in each. Which room empties fastest? The volatiles in the glass are no different. Simply put, we want a glass that curves inwards at the top half to trap some aroma.

    The Belgian tradition is to serve beer in its branded glass only, and not to serve that beer if said glass is unavailable. It’s a lovely thing to hold on to, but not if the glass is subpar. I love my collection of branded chalices, but that giant bowl is the equivalent of an open field. The ones with the inward curve at the top are much better, and exempt from malignment.

    Unless you consume beer in a peculiar manner, you hold your beer glass in your hand. This transfers heat into the glass. This is fine if warming the beer is the goal, not so fine if it’s not. I will concede that the handle on the beer mug solves this issue, but it still doesn’t rectify the main problem.

    The stem allows for temperate control. Need to warm it up, hold the bowl. Not so much? Hold the stem.

    The best glasses are shaped somewhat like a wine glass. The Belgian stemmed Tulip is a fine glass, the snifter, and the goblet with an inward curve are all excellent. Even a wine glass works quite well. I am partial to the Teku glass because the lip angles outward after tapering in. This allows for both comfort, and ideal distribution. In other words, the beer flows into the mouth in a satisfactory manner. This is just a luxury add-on to the stem and curved bowl though. Those two are key. I also just like the shape.

    I will concede that in certain unique circumstances, a proper glass is not practical. Guinness, and other nitro stouts would look funny outside the designated vessel, and some of the foamy Czech pours likely would not work as well. For all other beers, I stand firm.

    Beer is a complex beverage and should be treated as such. Find a glass you like, with a stem that curves inward, fill it no more than halfway, and enjoy beer to the fullest.

    Remember, you wouldn’t drink wine from a pint glass, so why drink beer from one?

  • For Whom the Bell Rings

    Jonathan Thompson

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    For Whom the Bell Rings

    Bickford Brewing’s New Releases, an All Day Event, and a Great Cause

    It’s Saturday, and in what appears to be a rare display of kindness, the sun is shining. I’ve just walked into Bickford Brewing on Harbord Street for an all day event celebrating the release of Ring the Bell, a white IPA, in collaboration with @brewreviewphil. A portion of the sales from this and other beers is being donated to cancer research, and it would seem that the new release combined with a good cause has created a pretty solid attraction. To top it off, two other beers were released on Friday. Crown of Wheat, a witbier, and Butter Knife Coffee Blonde, well, a coffee blonde. Clearly, I won’t be trying just one beer today.

    The bar is well peopled, forcing me to host up at a high table by the window and abandon my universal perch. I assume a change of scenery is a good thing. Harbord’s recent overhaul is mostly complete and so the view is pleasant, but more importantly, it drives more foot traffic. Owner/brewer Andrew McCready is at the brewery all day, and we get to chatting about business, beer in general, and of course the new releases.

    Brewer/owner Andrew McCready with the author

    A white IPA is basically a Belgian witbier combined with an IPA. As with all hybrids, it is a style of beer one has to learn slowly. Both the brewer and the taster. Bickford flattened the learning curve pretty quickly on this one I must say, leaving it solidly in the hands of the drinker. Interestingly, they’ve made a hoppy wit instead of a witty IPA, and the result is a yeasty mid tone and a citrusy yuzu undertone, with big motueka hops dominating the nose. Each component both shines through on its own and combines with the others in the holiest of matrimonies. As you work your way through this beer, new characteristics come to light, like watching a movie for the second or third time. Bitterness and yuzu linger into the finish as the hops fade away. It’s one of those times that leaving a bitter taste in your mouth is a good thing.

    Ring The Bell, a White IPA, looking out on to Harbord Street

    The coffee blonde is a complicated affair. It may sound strange, but it’s nothing to sniff at. Actually, sniffing is exactly what you should be doing. The coffee qualities are hard to put a finger on, and there is a certain new character that the blonde base adds to the coffee, or perhaps that the coffee adds to the blonde, it’s hard to say. Like an inside joke where you just had to be there, you just have to try it.

    The crown of Wheat is a very approachable wheat beer. It has that conventional yeasty nose and a bit of the requisite coriander and orange, but all of them remain fairly subtle. It’s less aggressive than some wits, which was well planned, as Ring the Bell harbours enough aggression to go around. This beer is perfectly suited for this kind of weather, long may it last.

  • Jonathan Thompson

    ICE COLD BEER! – Not So Fast

    Why serving temperature matters

    WIce cold beer might sound alluring, and I doubt anyone would salivate over “Luke warm beer!”, but the reality is that ice cold isn’t always ideal. Most fridges run around 3°C and most keg fridges run around the same. That’s 38°F, for those who prefer the F word. Just like fill levels and glassware, we don’t have much control over what goes on outside the house, but where we do have control, we should strive to exercise it. It’s pretty easy really. When planning ahead is possible, remove the beers that require a higher temperature ahead of time. When planning is not possible, well, drink slowly. Hands around the glass are a simple way to warm the beer up a bit too. Of course in the quest for equilibrium, your hands will get cold. Small sacrifices.

    Pale lagers, IPAs, and pale ales work well at fridge temperatures. Imperial stouts do not. The basic rule is the more complex, the warmer it should be. This doesn’t mean warm beer, it means less cold. Colour can be a guide too, but not always. A dry irish stout on nitro works best in the 4-5°C range, where an American stout works better around 7°C. Again complexity matters, and trumps all. Alcohol content may also offer some direction. Despite having more complexity than say a cream ale, or a kölsch, a weissbier works well around 5°C. Light colour, average ABV, medium complexity. It’s an art, and a science. And an art.

    Why does it matter? Well the more complex a beer, the more volatiles we need to release in order to fully experience it. The higher the temperature the more excited those aroma molecules will be. Industrial lagers, despite having stellar QA, first off don’t have a lot going on, and so don’t require a mega release of volatile aromatics. Secondly, some of the flavors in those beers can be less than desirable, and best kept at bay. Cream ales, as a craft example, can have some major DMS, that cooked corn, canned vegetable character. I find cream ales can have a cornchip like quality that is fine when cold, but can become rather uninspiring as it grows. Keeping certain beers cold suppresses undesirable flavours. Which opens the floor to other questions.

    It’s an easy thing to remedy, and your tasting encounter will be the better for it. Here are some guidelines on serving temperature.

    12°C Belgian dubbel, Belgian dark strong, imperial stout, barrel aged beers, barley wine, strong ales, Scotch ales/weeheavy, dunkles bock, dopplebock.

    3°C Light lagers, pale lagers, industrial beers

    5°C Weissbier, wit, pilsners, helles lager, nitro stouts and reds, blonde ales, cream ales, golden ales

    7°C Belgian tripel, lambics and sours, belgian blond, belgian pale ale, IPA, pale ale, Maibock, amber ales, red ales, lighter brown ales, dunkels

    10°C Cask ales, best bitters, porter, stout, dark lagers, more aggressive brown ales

  • In Praise of Haze

    Jonathan Thompson

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    In Praise of Haze

    It may seem like a misguided topic for an article. After all, everyone is brewing them and everyone is doing them. Or drinking them at least. The haze craze doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon, so what am I on about? Well, it goes by many a name, New England IPA ( NEIPA), Hazy, East Coast, or Juicy IPAs, and it is a style that is unfairly and frequently maligned.

    I’m looking at you Dr. Bamforth.

    Before I go any further. And before I start x-raying my mailbox, please read the following statement. There are many excellent beer writers out there, and many experts whose contributions to the world of craft beer are paramount. Any names mentioned in this article belong to those for whom I have the utmost respect.

    In the world of beer, craft or otherwise, Dr. Charlie Bamforth is the GOAT. But, he calls NEIPA chicken soup. Rachael Hudson, of Pilot Brewing, calls it orange juice. I get it. Some of them look like diluted Dijon. Although, weissbier isn’t exactly clear, and nor are kellerbiers. Yet they have managed to escape harassment. Bamforth and Hudson are not alone either. For whatever reason, NEIPA is the beer that beer people love to hate. Maybe the hop burn and astringency of early days are etched in painful memories. Maybe it’s the popularity amongst the masses that makes it unpopular amongst the specialists. Maybe they actually don’t like it. I can’t imagine it’s a subconscious shun to accessibility. After all, no one is going after pale lager.

    But if you are a student of beer, a taster of beer, an aficionado of beer, and especially if you’ve taken a keen interest in hops, these beers are a necessity. Nowhere else can the complexity and diversity of hops aromas shine. Sure west coast IPAs are full of hops, sure Italian pilsners and dry hopped sours can come to play, but the NEIPA is just a hop aroma showcase. Full stop. The yeast is clean, the malt is subtle and supportive, and the restrained bitterness provides for a solid and balanced beverage. All these participants know their place. Providing the supporting drone of the bagpipe, the gentle simple chords offering footing for the singer’s voice, or the attentive class, to whom the professor professes. The hops are the star, and the only star, and everyone knows it.

    Like anything, there are good examples and bad examples. Hop burn is real, but does seem as if, for the most part, it has been reigned in. The haze should be a sheen, not a thick glass of particulate. Orange juice is fine, a gritty milkshake is not. Beware the flavour additions. If you like fruit in your beer, that’s your business. If you want to experience the glory of hops in full, stick with unadulterated selections. Let your fruits come from terpenes and thiols and let the hops speak for themselves. Experts be damned, myself included.

  • Into the Darkness

    Jonathan Thompson

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    Into the Darkness

    The first black lager I ever tasted was quite confusing. It looked like a stout, it kinda smelled like a stout, but it didn’t quite taste like a stout, and it sure didn’t finish like a stout. Then I never saw one again for years. To be fair, the Schwarzbier (literally “black beer”), hailing from the Saxony, Franconia, and Thuringia regions of Germany has been around for quite some time, and is usually available. Dark lagers in the broader sense are even more prevalent. Munich Dunkels, the Bock family, Czech Tmavé, and Baltic Porters are all dark lagers that enjoy a long and rich history, along with the usual wax and wane of popularity. These, in some iteration, are usually available in Ontario. It should be noted that Baltic Porter has become a pretty loose style, and can tread dangerously into porter or stout territory. Though often delicious, maybe not the best benchmark.

    Maybe I’m less observant than I imagine myself to be, but the black lager revival seemed to take place overnight. How long it will last we don’t know. We can only hope. These local versions are a departure from the originals, but cling to the roots, and rightly so. They seem to incorporate more roast than caramel and toffee, and boast more complexity than most of their predecessors. As inspiration seems to stem from the Schwarzbier and the Tmavé, let’s take a brief look. The German Schwarzbier is generally a roasty, toasty attack with a bit of chocolate in the mid, and then a clean clean finish. The bitterness is usually high but not harsh, and not overly aggressive. Acidity also tends to be more restrained than that initial roast impression would indicate. The Tmavé, though, can be a malt bomb. Done well, all kinds of interesting nuances can be exposed. The expected light chocolate, some dark fruit, and sometimes the nutty character expected in brown ales. Toast is often present, but the roast tends to be slightly understated compared to its German cousin. The bitterness is certainly lower, and the finish tends to be maltier, yet clean. Balanced and drinkable. Done less well and it’s hard not to feel like the beer is just a mouthful of caramel. Which might be fine, depending on the occasion.  

    But now enter the Canadian craft brewer. We are held to no rules and no conventions, but are of course respectful of the guidelines. To a degree. Interpretation, modification and alteration are the cornerstones of variety and the launchpad of flavour after all. Without such departures, half the beer styles we enjoy would fail to exist. I highly suggest seeking out these black lagers and trying at least a few. You won’t be disappointed. Everything I have experienced so far has been different and very well executed. From roasty, bitter and clean, to malty but balanced with a lingering interplay on the finish. What they all hold in common is the clean fermentation, leaving us with a glassy smooth feel and a medium finish, rife with ghosts of the last sip.  

    A few to try:

    Silversmith Brewing-The Black Lager 

    Trestle Brewing Company-Noctaglia Black lager

    Perth Brewing-Bonfire Black Lager

    Bellwoods Brewery-Black Rice Lager

    Collective Arts-Nocturnal Flora Schwarzbier

  • The Aroma Files #006: Coconut

    Jonathan Thompson

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    The Aroma Files #006: Coconut

    The Aroma Files #006: Coconut

    WIt’s not uncommon to pick up faint notes of coconut in our beer, more so in Belgian ales or Kveik fermented beer, and even more so in barrel aged selections.  But without the intentional addition of coconut flavouring, where does it come from?  Lets dive in. The coconut aroma can come from three sources. Esters, which are yeast derived, malt, specifically from the kilning, and oak barrels.  

    The specific compounds primarily responsible are lactones, which are cyclic esters.  These form when a molecule has both a hydroxyl group ( -OH) and a carboxylic acid ( -COOH).  Both these functional groups of course need to be on the same molecule, and basically the molecule snaps into a ring.  Most of the lactones exhibiting coconut aromas are gamma lactones (𝛾-lactones), with five-carbons rings, or delta lactones (δ-lactones), with six-carbon rings.  𝛾-nonalactone provides a woody, creamy coconut aroma, 𝛾-octalactone a toasted coconut type aroma and δ-decalactone a sort of peachy tropical aroma.  Cis-oak lactone produces an intense coconut expression, and is more common in American oak.  

    So let’s start with malt as it’s the least significant contributor. Toasted wheat or oats, some crystal malts, and toasted coconut aromatic malt all contain some lactones that can contribute a coconut flavour. Essentially, the toasting process oxidizes linoleic, oleic and palmitic acids, which then get cleaved and esterified and formed into lactones. 

    Yeast on the other hand has an array of pathways to coconut. On the ester side, Ethyl octanoate, commonly found in Belgian Ales, Saisons, and some Kveik strains has a detection threshold of 7mg/L and has a coconut and pineapple profile. Ethyl decanoate on the other hand is more common in big belgians and strong ales, it has a creamy tropical coconut note, and a threshold of 1.5mg/L. Both of these use either decanoic or octanoic acids plus ethanol as the substrates and are esterified by Eeb1P and Eht1P enzymes. But yeast have even more tricks up their sleeves. They can also produce lactones by metabolizing medium chain fatty acids like octanoic, nonanoic, decanoic, dodecanoic etc.  These fatty acids undergo a beta oxidation whereby the fatty acid chain is shortened. Enzymes will then introduce hydroxyl groups to the chain allowing it to cyclize. When both the hydroxyl group and the carboxylic acid group are in the right places the molecule folds up into a ring. This happens during fermentation conditions when oxygen is limited and temperatures are on the warm side. Essentially, the yeast produces hydroxy fatty acids which then snap into a ring spontaneously. 

    So the first step is producing the hydroxy fatty acid. Cytochrome p450 monooxygenase, coded by CYP51,56,61 hydroxylate either fatty acids or sterol intermediaries. The next step is the conversion of the fatty acids into intermediates via beta oxidation. Acyl-CoA oxidase, enoyl-CoA hydratase/dehydrogenase and thiolase enzymes carry out this operation. The intermediates are then reduced to secondary alcohols via alcohol dehydrogenase and alcohol reductase enzymes. This introduces the second position hydroxyls. Finally thioesterases release the hydroxy-fatty acids from the CoA thioester and now it can cyclize.  

    The final and probably most important pathway to coconut is from the oak. The oak itself contains long chain fatty acids within cell walls along with the endogenous enzymes which will produce hydroxylated fatty acids. These are lipoxygenases which introduce hydroperoxy into long chain fatty acids becoming the precursors to cis and trans oak lactones. Hydroperoxide lyases then break these products down further into smaller oxygenated fatty acids.  Epoxygenases then come along and add hydroxyl or epoxide groups to the fatty acids and this generates the structure for the gamma and delta lactones to form during toasting which is what converts the precursors into the lactones. These lactones being cis-oak and trans-oak lactones ( β-methyl-𝛾-octalactone). Cis-oak has the dominant coconut aroma, where the trans-oak lactone is more woody and herbal. This is because the cis isomer has a more compact shape and binds more easily to receptors. American oak has higher levels of the fatty acid precursors versus French oak and ergo more coconut. Toasting levels are important as well. The intensity increases with toasting up to the point where it gets too hot and cracks the fatty acids, reversing the trajectory and reducing the expression.  

    So what about coconut itself?  Coconut flesh contains lauric, capric, and caprylic acids.  When coconut flesh is toasted these fatty acids get partly oxidized and the intermediaries cyclize into 𝛾-octalactone, 𝛾-nonalactone, and δ-decalactone.  It’s pretty much the same pathway as with the malt, but with way more inputs available. 

    And that’s coconut. 

    To further hone your aroma identification skills, Master Cicerone® Jen Blair’ ‘s Aroma: Explore The Wheel offers 100 common beer aromas! https://underthejenfluence.beer/

    Six down, five-hundred to go!

  • A Thirsty Trek through the Nation’s Capital: Ottawa’s Brewing Scene Part 2

    Jonathan Thompson

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    A Thirsty Trek through the Nation’s Capital: Ottawa’s Brewing Scene Part 2

    In part two, I explore the less walkable, but equally impressive.

    Bicycle Craft Brewery 

    850 Industrial Ave #12, Ottawa

    Having pounded a few extra kilometers into my soles, I finally walked through the doors of Bicycle Craft. The brewery is a bit of a hike from downtown, six kilometers from Parliament Hill to be exact, but small labours often culminate in tasty rewards. The brewery is bright and lively, and so are the beers. With a heavy bias towards IPAs, and even more so towards the hazy category, the beverages here are nothing short of fresh and restorative. Just the ticket after the implied two-wheeled journey, although in my case, two-footed. Mindful to avoid redundancy, each beer’s hop bills are carefully curated to provide unique and explosive bouquets of tropical aromas. A flight of four exposed varying degrees of haze, along with an array of hop aromas ranging from classic American citrus and pine to the passionfruit and dried pineapple of New Zealand. A fast tracked education in the dizzying dimensions of hop expression. Don’t walk away with the impression that Bicycle Craft is exclusive to hop heads though. Rotating selections see a Wee Heavy currently on the menu along with an Imperial Stout. Their festbier, an appropriate seasonal offering during my visit, was very well executed, nice and toasty with a slightly malty finish. This was a walk I would gladly relive. Maybe next time I’ll bring my bike.  

    Stray Dog Brewing Company

    501 Lacolle Way Suite 6, Ottawa

    Orleans seemed a bit far to walk, even for me, so I ordered a ride which was pleasantly short and strangely inexpensive, considering it involved a highway. Us Torontonians often forget that there are cities with more than one highway per direction, and that one might be able to drive from point A to point B on said highways without stopping. Several breweries reside out this way, but Stray Dog was the standout. The dog friendly angle is made fairly obvious, and my flight was served in a muffin tin, which was pretty cool and unique. The selection is diverse with a healthy weighting of stouts, something always welcomed in my world. The Oatmeal Stout is a lovely creation complete with a rare depth and complexity, but the Peanut Butter Oatmeal Stout was the showstopper. Like a non-cloying liquid peanut butter cup, with darker chocolate and roastier peanuts, all woven together with restrained but firm hop bitterness and roasted grains. If this beer were a confectionary, I would be in trouble. Big trouble. Discovering that Stray Dog was yet another brewery offering a California common brought a smile to my face as I continue to gain hope for the style’s impending revival. There was one IPA on the menu, a departure from current trends. Of course I had to try it and it was very lovely. A perfect bridge from the Light Lager and Cali Common and into the darkness.  

    Dominion City Brewing Co.

    5510 Canotek Rd, Unit 15 Ottawa

    Dominion City’s beers have appeared in my fridge recently, albeit limited by the LCBO’s inventory. Always a challenge for smaller brewers. With storage conditions and limited distribution, a visit to the source is always a game changer, and boy did the game change. Dominion City, consistent with this leg of my journey, is located in another commercial plaza. Despite the locations, all of these spaces were welcoming and comfortable. I took up residence at the bar for a clear view of the menu and taps, with the big wood barrels filling out the background, and began selecting my flight. Where to start is always a challenge when it all looks so enticing. A very fresh and floral pilsner cleared the way for the main event. Winding Down The Bines is a fresh hopped ale, and boy was it fresh hopped. The aromas just danced out of the glass and that resinous dankness normally reserved for the pacific northwest was front and center. The Double Dry Hopped Maui Nelson was a flavour bomb of major tropical fruit with the New Zealand character lurking in the background, along with a bit of resin, present but shy. The Baltic Porter was both powerful and approachable, managing to push the boundaries without sliding irreversibly into imperial stout territory. Baltic porters are a beer that rides such a fine line that slight movement in any direction can send it into a whole different category. Nailing it is an art, and Dominion City are artists. The menu here is varied. Varied enough that it’s close to impossible not to confidently select something and enjoy it, no matter your leanings. All the beers were on point, but consistent with my experience, there was a stand out. The Wilderness Gothic Vidal Saison is a must try. The barrel fermentation was rendered explicit by some funky and amazing brett character, while the white grape and citrus interplayed with all the big flavours keeping everyone in their rightful place. I’m embarrassed to call this a symphony in a glass, but I will anyway. This beer alone would have made the trip to Dominion City worth it.  

    I stepped off the train at Toronto Union Station and walked out into the rain, my beer filled bags significantly heavier. Rest assured, I will be back for more. 

    (This piece was originally slated for inclusion an Ottawa based publication, hence the splitting of parts. I have decided to publish here after some communication breakdown.)

  • A Thirsty Trek through the Nation’s Capital: Ottawa’s Brewing Scene Part 1

    Jonathan Thompson

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    A Thirsty Trek through the Nation’s Capital: Ottawa’s Brewing Scene Part 1


    WAs a Toronto based beer writer, the hunt for new beers, breweries, and flavours is a never ending quest. The Ottawa region had been popping up on my radar lately, and with the constraints of distribution being what they are, a visit to the source became essential. And so, ticket in hand, I hopped on the early morning train to the nation’s capital, and five hours later, set off to explore some of Ottawa’s finest breweries. 

    Part one- the Walkable

    Beyond the Pale Brewing Company

    250 City Centre Av. Unit 108. Ottawa

    21 George St, Ottawa

    Surrounded by exposed stone and wood beams, old world charm blends with modern fixtures. Beyond the Pale’s Byward taproom is a lovely place to sit and have a few pints. The upstairs is huge and open, perfect for large gatherings. The beer menu is plentiful, and as they charge per sample, instead of a fixed flight, the world is your oyster. This is a key feature by the way, and something we see more and more of. A number of German styles graced the menu, beers accompanied by rigid guidelines with little room for creativity. Not an issue for Beyond The Pale. The beers were all true to style, fresh and delicious. I ignorantly skipped over the Pink Fuzz, assuming it was a seltzer or something I didn’t care to try. My error was rectified by the diligent bartender, to whom I owe a debt of gratitude. It’s an American Wheat with grapefruit zest, a zingy and refreshing pint. Perfect for a hot summer day, or just a thirsty afternoon. Rye Guy, the rye IPA, is a hoppy beer with a grainy spiciness and was a highlight for me. Calcom, their California common, was balanced, on point, and a special treat. Also known as steambeer, California commons are very hard to find.    

    Tooth and Nail Brewing Company

    3 Irving Ave, Ottawa

    Being a bit of a rail nerd, I took the O-Train out a few stops to Hintonburg, although it is walkable from downtown. It’s an interesting little area, rife with cafes and specialty shops, including a year round Christmas store. Tooth and Nail is an open and spacious bar. The lack of footrail is redeemed by the gorgeous stools. The slew of awards housed behind the bar instills confidence, and for good reason. The tasters are individually and reasonably priced, and the glasses, like smaller stemless wineglasses, allow headspace for the aromatics to gather. This demonstrates the brewery’s in-depth understanding of flavour and an attention to detail. While none of my selections failed to impress, two beers really stood out. The aptly named Fortitude stout has some real structure to it thanks to the addition of oats, which contribute a sort of creamy and sturdy texture. A firm bitterness and prominent roast balance out the deep chocolate and coffee notes, ending in a bittersweet chocolate finish. Valour, a saison, manages a balance of approachability and complexity rarely achieved outside the boundaries of Belgium. The peppery character of the yeast couples with a refreshing carbonation and concludes in a dry medium length finish, leaving only a slight bitterness to linger on the tongue. Also, ask to see the Lego scale model of the bar.

    Spark Beer 

    702 Somerset St. W, Ottawa

    Spark has an interesting feel to it. Part pizza parlour, part hip local bar, with lots of 45 degree angles. They are known for their focus on sour beers, but the variety of styles offered will satisfy any palate. I generally stay away from the one-dimensional Canadian kettle sours, but the Voices Carry Rockaberry is anything but. It contains a complexity rarely found outside the wild and funky categories, and frankly, deserves a spot as a benchmark for how sour beers should be. The Aurora Foeder Aged Grissette is intelligently crafted and builds on the brewery’s theme of care and complexity. Take your time with this one. With patience and attention you can coax out the nuanced and multilayered flavours imparted by the oak and yeast. And the pizza was good too.

    Flora Hall Brewing

    37 Flora St., Ottawa

    Flora Hall is a thing of beauty, located in Centertown in a restored early 20th century building. The wood top on the horseshoe shaped bar is invitingly warm, shunning the modern trends of cold hard edges and stone. I was lucky enough to get a spot at said bar, amidst a surprisingly large mid-week crowd. Sitting down on my stool, my feet settled naturally onto the foot rail, an overlooked necessity of comfort often absent in today’s taprooms. On the wall was a large board announcing the available offerings. The variety was impressive and the only challenge was knowing where to start. It’s often wise to begin lower in intensity and so I prudently chose the Bohemian Style Pilsner which they serve via side-pull. The resulting brilliantly clear beer topped with a thick head of wet foam paved the way for what was to come. The taster pours here are served in a Teku glass, which for me is a dream come true. Insider tip – jump at any chance to try a wet hopped, or fresh hopped, beer. The Fresh Hop XPA here reinforces the point. Sadly these beers are seasonal and fade quickly, but the memories do not. The Ordinary Bitter is anything but ordinary, and being a well balanced sessionable ale, one could make a semi responsible afternoon of it. The Hazy Oat Pale Ale is just sunshine in a glass, full of tropical goodness, and can brighten up even the gloomiest of days. For the finale, it had to be the Foeder Aged Imperial Chocolate Stout, a beer whose intricacies almost can’t be articulated. Notes of coconut and vanilla, all dancing around a deep complex chocolate foundation, held together with roasted grain and a warming alcohol presence. A true entanglement of harmonious flavours. I walked away with a bottle, now tucked away in the fridge to be shared with only the most special of friends.  

    In part two, I explore the less walkable, but equally delicious.  

    (This piece was originally slated for inclusion an Ottawa based publication, hence the splitting of parts. I have decided to publish here after some communication breakdown.)

  • Jonathan Thompson

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    2025: A Beer in Review

    My favorite three Ontario breweries for 2025. 

    This year culminated in a lot, but likely not enough, visits to breweries and tap rooms. While I could probably list on fewer than three fingers the number of non-positive experiences, I could also regale you with all the lovely experiences in the Pacific Northwest, La Belle Provence, or New England, but I’ll stick with Ontario for now. I could probably write a 500,000 word article on wonderful breweries our province has to offer as well, but that would be a frustratingly arduous read to say the least. Besides, I might risk expiring before I finish. It should be noted that I have no affiliations with any of these breweries, nor did I even tell them I was coming, nor do a few even know I was there. I’m like a covert beer operative.  Whether this is smart or not I do not know. Why did I pick three instead of five? No idea, but here they are, in alphabetical order for fairness. 

    Bickford Brewing Co. 

    292a Harbord St., Toronto Ontario

    It’s no secret that I have a love affair with Bickford’s beers. I’ll concede that the brewery is close to where I live, but so are many others. All of which are good by the way. Bickford also has a crazy looking postal code as a little side note. The location is small and intimate, with the fermentation tanks right there, behind the bar. The establishment is bright, but still manages to be cozy and welcoming. It is also very clear that they have put a lot of thought into their glassware, which they diligently wash by hand. No offensive dishwasher exhaust to contend with is a godsend in the world of beer tasting. In fact their branded Teku holds court as my go-to for home consumption of almost every beer, with mild apologies to all the other fine breweries out there. And while Toronto is awash with excellent breweries, Bickford brings something really special to the table. Small batch brewing means they can continuously produce new offerings, with no governor on creativity. Most recently a Canadian version of a Kentucky Common, just before that an Oatmeal Brown Ale in collaboration with Babe Brews, and I believe they still have some excellent Saison left. It also means that the core offerings don’t have time to degrade, and all their beer is ever fresh and lively. Beer, especially the hoppiest styles like IPA, hold a common affliction with seafood. They arguably get worse starting the minute after they are packaged. I concede this decay is slow and largely unnoticeable until it is, but fresh is still best. 

    The core offerings range from Pilsner, which they pour via sidepull thank you, through a Pale Ale, available at the LCBO, to an Oatmeal Stout, which is good all year round no matter what you say. And while interesting is interesting, like the Cherry Eclipse, a dark sour with cocoa nibs and cherry. And while bitter is bitter, like the Harbord IPA, which they call a mid-coast IPA and which has the breath of an East Coast and the bite of a West Coast. And while refreshing is refreshing, like the Goses they brew, tart and lactic, and often split between two flavour additions. Sometimes, you just want a good classic pint. Something drinkable, something sessionable, something that reminds you why you love beer. Something you can sit with while you read, or contemplate life, or finish your magnum opus. Or start it for that matter. Beatrice’s English Amber Ale is such a beer. It’s available both on nitro tap, and in the can, both vastly different experiences, both massively satisfying. If you are lucky, you’ll arrive on a day they have it on cask, and you won’t want to leave.

    Brothers Brewing Co. 

    15 Wyndham St N, Guelph Ontario

    I walked into Brothers Brewing on a sweltering April Guelph afternoon. Seriously. The lights were slightly dim, a very inviting feature in a bar, and the decor was eclectic, centered around old wood and brick and chalkboards, with the tandem bike straight from their logo hanging on the wall. Fermenter tanks in full view, as is done. There is plenty of room at the bar, which is where I feel most at home anyways, but there are also plenty of tables, if that’s your thing. The location is convenient too being right downtown. The rotating menu is up on the wall behind the bar, all handwritten on the chalkboard, and it is doozy. Balancing creativity with comfort, the tap list ranged from Helles Lager to Pale Ale to Hazy IPA, all the way to Dark Lager with chocolate and pistachio and a Berliner Weiss. Thank goodness for flights. As of my last check via their socials, there is a Lactose Golden Ale, a Belgian Abbey style ale, more Berliner Weiss and a Cherry Vanilla Oatmeal Stout. Oh, and of course a couple IPAs. This type of curation is of overlooked importance in the progressively narrowly focused beer world. As the majority seem to be riding the haze craze, those bright stars in the diverse universe of beer get lost in the fray. Brothers brewing is helping to maintain the balance. The wall of bottles, a museum of sorts of previous offerings give a further glimpse into a world of creativity.  A fresh lager, a juicy tropical IPA, or something interesting and sour, or something dark and flavoured, all crafted with care, with no palate left behind. I challenge you to walk out of Brothers Brewing unsatisfied.  

    Flora Hall Brewing

    37 Flora St, Ottawa Ontario

    I first learned of Flora Hall when they did a collab English IPA with Bickford, and I then visited as part of a two day tour of Ottawa’s finest. First off, even if the beer were mediocre, you’d still want to visit just for the ambience. Conversely, if the establishment were less than appealing, you’d still want the beer. Luckily, it’s a double home run. The building is beautiful, classy, and inviting with black accented warm wood and glass, complete with a giant glass garage door. I originally mistook it for a restored firehall actually. Like the Ghostbusters HQ. Flora Hall however, resides in a restored 20th century building that I’ve learned hosted various mechanical endeavours over the decades, but neither the fire brigade nor the hunters of the supernatural. The horseshoe wood top bar is complete with a foot rail, one of the most overlooked features in modern locales. There is plenty of room here too, along with a large upstairs area. My focus however was on the beer. The offerings were announced in large letters on a board just above my line of sight, so all I needed to do was pry my nose out of my glass to see what I might want next. Easier said than done. Oh the choices. Their Bohemian Style Pilsner is poured via the sidepull tap, a feature which is rising in popularity across the craft beer world. The result of which, when operated with care, is a glass of golden and brilliantly clear beer topped with a thick layer of wet foam.  Yes, wet and dry foams are a thing. I was lucky enough to visit at the height of wet hopping season too, and got a fresh sample of their XPA. They serve an ordinary bitter, a classic English style whose nomenclature may border on inappropriate. It’s a sessionable bitter, it’s delicious. It’s the kind of beer one could make an evening of, and it’s anything but ordinary. Flora serves their samples in a full sized Teku glass. A style of stemmed glass with some aggressive lines and a lip that angles outwards. Look it up for a visual. This won me over. First off, all beer should be served in a stemmed glass. That’s just my opinion, but I’m right. Secondly, this practice of serving a sample in a full glass allows for a ton of headspace. A place for aromas to gather and mingle, and assemble into the complete picture for the taster to take in and enjoy. But back to the  beer. Their Oat Pale Ale is a glass full of sunshine and frankly should be called the Spirit Lifter, although that sounds suspiciously evil, like a necromancer of sorts, so let’s not suggest that. Risking sensory overload, I ended my visit with the foeder aged imperial chocolate stout. I still have a bottle in my fridge and have been unable to find a special enough evening to open it. It’s that good. The beer is so complex it’s almost a crime to try and articulate it. I dare say I will never visit the nation’s capital without popping into Flora Hall, and I kinda wish I were there right now..