Mark your calender and reserve your tickets now for the Clipper City beer dinner at Magnolias in Purcellville, Virginia on Thursday, May 22 featuring Oxford Organic Beers, brewers from Clipper City, and me talking about organic beers.

The details:

Oxford Organic Beer Dinner and Book Signing
WHAT: Clipper City Organic beer dinner
WHEN: 6-7pm meet the brewers, 7pm dinner, May 22, 2008
WHERE: Magnolias, Purcellville, Virginia
COST: $75 all inclusive
INFO: http://www.magnoliasmill.com/Events.htm

Greg Kitsock writes today in his Washington Post column about the growing interest in organic beers. His article begins:

“All beers were organic 100 years ago,” says Christopher Mark O’Brien, Silver Spring-based author of “Fermenting Revolution: How to Drink Beer and Save the World.

He goes on to announce the launch of Clipper City’s newly organic Oxford line of beer which includes a raspberry wheat and an amber.

Check out the whole article in the Washington Post right here.

My mom sent me this photo today. I love my mom.

During her presentation last week at the Craft Brewers Conference, Jenn Orgolini, Director of Sustainability at New Belgium Brewing, discussed a surprise finding in their new study that assessed the lifecycle carbon impact of a six pack of Fat Tire. More than half the greenhouse gas emissions from their flagship beer comes from the refrigeration units at beer retailers.

A new group in San Francisco, going by the name Carrotmob, may have the solution to this carbonated conundrum. Here’s the plan: everyone go get some beer.

Okay, it’s slightly more complicated than that and the organization’s founder makes it look a lot easier than it really is, but he does seem to be on to something. He asked 23 local liquor stores how much money they’d be willing to spend on environmental improvements if he rallied hundreds of customers to converge on the store in a buying spree. The winning bidder, K & D Market, committed to spending 22% of that day’s proceeds on energy efficiency upgrades.

They ended up raising nearly twice as much money as the retailer expected (and more than five times what they earn on a typical day) and the revenue was spent on updating the store’s entire lighting system and replacing all the refrigerator gaskets.

I call that beer activism at its finest. Using the carrot, er, the beer, rather than the stick, to advance sustainability.

The front page of today’s Washington Post contains a somber story about mass closings of rural pubs in Ireland. What could be causing the closure of these venerable community institutions in Ireland of all places, the emerald of world pub culture?

Prosperity, so they say.

(Click image for Washington Post video)

Ireland’s booming economy is providing younger folks with higher paying jobs far away from their rural homes. At the end of the day, after a long commute, more of these folks are opting for drinks at home in front of the television or weekend vacations to the continent rather than popping down to the pub for a slow round with the neighbors.

The article goes on to describe how this is leaving many of the older rural inhabitants stuck lonely and at home when they would rather be celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, funerals and other special occasions with the community at the pub.

What’s at stake when pubs close down? The art of conversation, says one pubgoer. Live, participatory music as well. Another community member (in the video above) says when the village pub closed it was like “a sudden death in the family.” And when it reopened, “everything back to life again.”

I wrote a chapter in Fermenting Revolution about how so-called “third-places” like brewpubs can help rebuild community bonds in the U.S. Click here to read my Spring 2008 column in American Brewer magazine on the same topic.

(This originally appeared in the Spring 2008 issue of American Brewer magazine.)

Much of the mainstream beer marketing works hard to convince consumers that drinking a particular brand leads inevitably to good times with friends and family. Beer is a social beverage, so it is understandable that marketers strive to evoke the fellowship of friendly gatherings involving beer. The implicit suggestion in this is that beer helps to build the bonds of community.

But many of the social institutions responsible for building real community have been slowly eroded ever since the automobile began reshaping the American landscape after World War II. Walkable main streets were replaced by strip malls. Corner cafes and taverns closed down as drive-thru fast food chains offered the dubious convenience of eating on the run. Bowling alleys were boarded up across the country as people opted for TV dinners and six-packs of canned beer instead of a night out with the neighbors. In short, Americans moved into isolation in the suburbs.

The pursuit of the customized lifestyle has caused a fracturing of community in America. We are a nation of individuals. The closure of the corner bar is a poignant symptom of a community stricken by what author and filmmaker John de Graaf calls “affluenza” – the sickness caused by pursuit of material wealth at the expense of the non-material things that bring real happiness, such as community. Today, many Americans are seeing the symptoms and yearning for a stronger feeling of community.

A Cure for the Common Affluenza
Small breweries may face disadvantages compared to big brewers when it comes to cash flow, capital investment, and pricing on small quantities of raw materials. But they are uniquely capable of delivering exactly what the corporate beer marketing promises: a better beer drinking experience. Consider that roughly two-thirds of the 1,400 or so breweries in America are brewpubs, i.e. actual social gathering places. Architect Bill Dunster, designer of the renowned BedZED eco-community in London, had this to say when I asked him how his designs fostered strong communities: “A bar is the only way to kick start new community. The pub is at the heart of every one of our communities.”

So what makes brewpubs better community places than any other restaurant serving beer and food? The critical difference is that beer is made onsite by a real person. The power of this should not be underestimated. Food (liquid bread in this case) has been the focal point of community ritual since early human society. Alcohol itself has been at the center of these rituals. The conjuring of handcrafted beer at the sacred site of the ritual itself marks a return to an ancient and powerful social bonding experience – brewing and drinking beer in community. Americans seeking a cure for affluenza would do well to visit the local brewpub, or join one of the growing number of beer-tasting groups, or homebrew clubs.

The Beer that Binds
Cooperation is a characteristic of enduring communities. It appears often in the craft beer community. For example, Moonlight and Russian River, two breweries in Sonoma County, California, share a hopyard. Cultivating, picking, and the results of the harvest are all shared. Harvest time is a family and friends affair, reviving the community hop-harvest tradition. Two brewers in the same community might view each other as competitors, but instead these companies engage in mutual support. They celebrated this new venture by naming the first brew from their own hops “Homegrown Ale,” an appropriate toast to the power beer has to build strong local communities.

Here’s another example that also happens to involve Russian River. Avery Brewing in Bolder, Colorado and Russian River both brew Belgian style beers that each of them independently named Salvation. When the coincidence was discovered, rather than turn adversarial, they chose a path of cooperation. Instead of competing for the rights to the name as might be likely in another industry (or even in this industry among larger companies such as is the case in the ongoing Battle of the Buds), they decided to get make something good out of it – a special new beer brewed together that blends their two Salvations. They called this creation Collaboration Not Litigation Ale.

But my favorite example of community in the pub is an experience I had personally at the Great Lakes Brewing Co. in Cleveland, Ohio. I visited the brewery one day for a meeting with owner Pat Conway. As I waited at the bar for Pat to finish another meeting, an older man entered the pub and nodded in my direction as he leaned gently forward against the bar. His appearance elicited a greeting from the hostess and the bartender who immediately served him a glass of water. When Pat appeared a few minutes later, already running late for our meeting and unaware that I was in the room, he stopped first to chat with the old man, addressing him by name and casually inquiring about his general state of being. Eventually introductions were made all around and Pat explained that Mr. Fox, who works at the cheese counter at the West Side Market across the street, is one of Great Lakes’ best customers. Mr. Fox suggested that I try the Dortmunder, which in his opinion, is Great Lakes’ best beer. I invited him to have one with us, but he declined, claiming that he just drinks water these days, and further explaining that he comes in here because he just likes the place and everyone knows him.

Without trying, Pat and Mr. Fox had demonstrated the nature of a true community brewpub — the number one customer is no customer at all, just a member of the community.

I just returned from five days in San Diego at the Craft Brewers Conference. Over the next few days I hope to post a bit of what I learned there. But first I want to celebrate Earth Day with a beer that’s better than most for people and the planet.

Reunion ‘08 is the result of a multi-tiered cooperative effort. Pete and Alan of Pete’s Wicked joined forces with Dan Del Grande of Bison Brewing, who in turn has a partnership with Butte Creek Brewing in Chico, CA.

Labeled as an Organic Red Rye Ale and billing itself as “A Beer for Hope,” Reunion may sound like a plug for Obama but the hope referred to here is related to the fact that all the profits from this beer are donated to the Institute for Myeloma and Bone Cancer Research in honor of Pete and Alan’s friend Virginia MacLean who succumbed to myeloma last year.

What better way to honor Earth Day than with a beer that celebrates a cancer victim’s life by using barley, rye and caraway seeds that are free of cancer-causing pesticides? Given its northern California origin, this is unusual in that it is not a California hop-bomb but instead its malt emphasis evokes caramel and fruitcake, an American evolution of the traditional English brown ale.

And on a tangential note, here’s another beer-inspired Earth Day sentiment from Don Russell in his Joe Sixpack column in the Philly Daily News - what ever happened to refillable beer bottles?

Some days everything in the world feels just right. Today started out the other way - like we’re doomed to make the same mistakes over and over. The news in the Washington Post was even more depressing than usual: mass rapes in the Congo, budget crises in the state governments, Mugabe continuing to jockey for power in Zimbabwe, China violating human rights, and General Petraeus telling us that the war in Iraq is going just fine.

Clearly, the world is going to hell.

But then the day took a turn for the better. I’m a pacifist - I haven’t heard of a war yet that I think makes a shred of sense. But I have a strange connection to some of today’s news, particularly that involving the U.S. military. You see, the Pentagon is one of the world’s largest offices, housing about 23,000 employees. The building is so big that it undergoes continuous renovations because by the time they finish up one section, there is another section ready for rehab. The contractors who manage these renovations invited my group, the Responsible Purchasing Network, to help them develop a green purchasing policy. Today I found out, unofficially, that we were awarded the contract. Cool.

But then something even more impressive happened. I got free beer in the mail. I love it when that happens. Have I said that before? Sorry, I can’t help it. There is just nothing like the feeling I get when free beer appears unexpectedly in the mail . . . addressed to me . . . and did I mention it was free? And sometimes . . . it’s even organic! My god, I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Today I received three bottles of the new Green Lakes Organic Ale from Deschutes Brewery in Bend, Oregon. Two bloggers wrote about this beer during last month’s Beer Blogging Session, which I hosted here at BeerActivist.

The beer is brewed with five types of certified organic malts. But what I found more intriguing is that it is brewed with ‘certified salmon safe‘ hops. I had never heard of this before. Apparently, Safe Salmon is a non-profit group working to protect salmon habitat in the Willamette Valley of Oregon (where much of America’s hops are grown) by certifying farm practices that prevent run-off and other habitat damage.

The beer itself is a delicious bitter ale. Scorers over at Beer Advocate currently have it clocked in with a B+, while the Rate Beer reviewers have ranked it in the 78th percentile of the Amber Ale style.

In the glass, this beer exhibits a deep, contemplative amber with a steady but moderate flow of carbonation bubbling to topside to produce a reasonable, lasting head with lace that has equally thoughtful stick-to-it-tiveness. An initial blast of bitterness bites the tongue but is quickly followed by a cake-like malt sweetness. Hop citrus notes are apparent throughout but do not dominate. This is a beer I could relish drinking with a group of environmental activist colleagues as we plot strategy for saving the world, one organic barley crop and one salmon safe hop farm at a time.

For readers in Atlanta looking for something to drink, I mean do, on Earth Day, check out SweetWater Brewing’s 420 Festival. Bands, beer, and a good cause. Who can argue with that? Oh, and last year they had a troupe of belly dancers too!

According to a press release from the company, SweetWater also helps campaign for the Upper Chattahoochee Riverkeepers, Earth Share of Georgia, and Georgia ForestWatch.

It’s happened more than once. I have a beer for review or that I am saving for something special. Then I have some people over and forget to put that beer away properly. Next thing you know someone is drinking that beer.

That’s fine, I’ll get over it, except that it always seems to be someone who doesn’t particularly appreciate the nuances of fine beer. For example, I once had a bottle of Midas Touch in the fridge during a raging party. The next morning I found the full bottle sitting on a book shelf with the cap removed.

Clearly, someone had opened it expecting a lager or a pale ale - or at least something recognizable as beer. They probably tipped back a mouthful and had to restrain themselves from spitting it in the face of their conversation partner. “Eww! Chris drinks the worst stuff and calls it beer. I just don’t get it.”

So last weekend, as we were preparing to have some folks over, I moved a bottle of Garde Dog, the new biere de garde from Flying Dog, way to the back of the fridge thinking we’d never work our way through everything in front of it. Sure enough, my good friend Dave showed up toward the end of the party and he and I proceeded to stay up ’til 3am listening to records and working our way toward the back of the fridge.

“No! Shoot,” I blurted out before gaining control of my manners. Dave had the bottle of Garde Dog open in his hand before I realized what was happening. “Drat, well just let me have a taste of that before you drink it,” I suggested after explaining that I had received it from the brewery as a review bottle. So taste it I did, but notes I did not take, and the next day I couldn’t recall a thing about it.

During the next week I felt obliged to find a bottle of this beer so I could write a proper review of it but my efforts to locate a retailer proved fruitless. Tonight, however, I am enjoying a bottle of Saison Vos from Sly Fox brewing, which I picked up on Thursday while visiting a friend in Phoenixville, PA. Saison and biere de garde are closely related styles, the latter being brewed in northern France and the former in Wallonia, the French-speaking western region of Belgium.

Saison typically has a low floral hop presence, a malt accented middle with peppery spice and mild sourness, and a characteristically dry finish. Biere de garde is similar but has a rounder mouthfeel due to a higher sweetness and lack of spicing. Despite its name, the Sly Fox Saison might be better described as a biere de garde or even a Belgian style strong golden ale, with its 6.9% ABV putting it at the very top of the saison range, perhaps due to an addition of candy sugar. Delicious no matter how it is classified.