Remember when you’d be at a dinner party or similar gathering with friends, drinking wine and not really overthinking things, when someone would hit everyone with some “Mmm, wow, this Medoc claret really has legs, but if they chaptalized the must any more they’d end up with that stemmy plonk you like to drink, Blaine, HAHAHAHA!” and while some people there would chuckle and cut their eyes, you would close yours and take sensual sniffs of what’s in your glass, wondering what the hell that person is talking about? Yeah, we all hate when that happens. Craft beer has been moving and evolving so quickly, consumers are struggling to not only keep up with drinking what’s new and hot, but clearing as many Saturdays on your calendar as possible so you can get to those beer festivals and not end up with FOMO on Friday mornings.
And yes, there is beer lingo being bandied about not only by brewers and distributors, but by consumers who (at least act like they) are in the know. Never fear, however, we’re going to go over a few terms I hear being used more and more on the customer-side of the beer world that tend to have people stumped. I’m going to skip the serious science and keep it all in layman’s terms, but will hopefully shed as much light as you’ll need for day-to-day beer situations. Let’s go to school!
Original Gravity, or O.G.
I often hear people ask brewery employees at festivals and taprooms “What was the original gravity on this?” And from a beer drinker’s point of view, I have to ask myself “How is that relevant?”
Gravity is the measurement of a liquid’s density in relation to water at a particular temperature. For instance, a gravity of 1.068 means that the liquid being measured is 1.068 times more dense than plain water. On the whole, this translates to the amount of sugars, usually fermentable, present in the wort (pronounced “wert”) which is the brewing liquid that later becomes beer. There are a number of gravity measurements taken when making beer, and they give brewers an idea of how the brewing is going, as well as providing a benchmark for changes to various stages of the brewing process. The starting, or “pre-boil” gravity is the gravity of the wort going into the kettle. The original gravity is after the wort has been boiled, but before the yeast has been pitched. Final gravity is after the yeast has fully attenuated and the beer is ready to be carbonated, packaged, kegged, etc.
Why are these gravity readings important? For one, the number you get for your original gravity will give you a ballpark figure for the beer’s alcohol content by volume, or ABV. For instance, if your OG reading is 1.055, you should end up with a beer with an ABV of around 5.5%. This isn’t the case for some beer styles or beers brewed with certain yeast strains, but if you’re dealing with an American pale ale or brown ale, for instance, that’s a solid ballpark figure, if everything goes to plan. Secondly, using the original gravity and final gravity readings together will tell you how much alcohol your beer is actually touting. Determining the beer’s actual ABV uses a relatively simple equation. While pro brewers and homebrewers (who have had too many Brew Day beers to be bothered with math) use websites or apps like BeerSmith, homebrewers typically use the formula (OG – FG) x 131.25 to find alcohol content.
So why, as a beer drinker, would you need to know the OG of a beer? I have no idea. There isn’t much you can do about it, yet I see more and more beer labels and menus with this information on them. But hey, now you know what that’s about!
Esters and Phenols
People often make general claims like “Hops contribute aroma, malt contributes flavor and carbonation contributes mouthfeel.” Why do I think these statements are incorrect as-is? Because the ingredients used to make beer are synergistic. Just as aroma, taste and mouthfeel combine with other factors to create what we call “flavor,” hops, malt and carbonation, along with other ingredients like water and yeast, all contribute to taste, aroma, mouthfeel, and therefore flavor. Most beer drinkers underestimate what yeast bring to the table when it comes to these factors, and that’s why I’d like to talk to you about esters and phenols.
Put simply, and in the case of drinking beer, most esters are good, while most phenols are bad. That’s just a generalization, however. These “good guys” and “bad guys” are formed by a number of factors during fermentation, and if the yeast become stressed they may produce an excess of these compounds that can cause unwanted flavors and aromas in your finished beer.
Esters are formed in the presence of alcohol and certain enzymes present in the wort during fermentation (I know you’re probably thinking “He promised he’d skip the chemistry.” Believe me, we aren’t even looking at a place where we might scratch). Examples of “good” esters, i.e. characteristics in your beer that are desirable, include banana and bubble gum in Bavarian wheat beers, raisins and figs in dark Belgian beers, apple, pear and orange in English and lighter-colored Belgian beers, and citrus notes in saisons. In addition, beers treated with fruit additions for secondary fermentation will have notes of the fruit used, e.g. raspberries, cherries and peaches. These are compliments of the yeast, as well! Examples of “bad” esters are the presence of nail polish remover character, or any banana notes in a “clean” beer or beer made from a clean yeast strain.
Phenols come from a number of sources, such as chlorine present in your brewing water or in residual cleansers, as well as the fermentation characteristics of the yeast used to make the beer. Examples of “good” phenols are the spicy, clove-like notes in Bavarian wheat beers and Belgian ales, the peppery notes in saison styles, and the smoky, barnyard, horsey, goaty, earthy, damp soil, leather, wet wool notes in various styles brewed with wild yeast strains like Brettanomyces (more on that later in the article). Examples of “bad” phenols include plastic or chlorine notes in any beer, as well as medicinal, band-aid or antiseptic notes.
Most American beer styles are brewed with a “clean” yeast strain in which the fruity, estery characteristics are muted to the point of almost being non-existent, especially when you put those bold American hops on top of them. So most American drinkers drinking American beers don’t really have the chance to talk much about esters and phenols. You, however, are now an Official Smarty-Pants.
Spontaneous Fermentation
Sours and farmhouse ales are all the rage, are they not? One common term you’ll hear when people are referring to these beers is “spontaneous fermentation.” This isn’t nearly as alarming as spontaneous combustion, but rather refers to the manner in which a beer is fermented. You’ll often see the words “wild” or “farmhouse” on the labels of beers fermented in this way. After the wort has been boiled, it is set out (often outside!) in open vats, open fermentation vessels or open, flat, relatively-shallow rectangular tanks called “cool ships.” As the wort cools, wild yeast strains present in the air collect on the sugar surface, the most viable of which will begin to ferment the beer. If you’ve heard of the term “terroir,” then a spontaneously-fermented beer will by far deliver that in a beer. These beers produce a variety of esters and phenols (Remember those?), as well as a truly unique beer that will never be had again.
“Brett”
Most of you have heard of some guy named Brett who either works at their local brewery or helped their homebrewing neighbor make beer. You know, “We brewed this one with Brett and it turned out really nice.” Unfortunately, you’re probably misunderstanding what these references to Brett actually mean. Unless, of course, they’re really talking about a guy who brews named Brett, and trust me, he may not be all that happy about it, any more than Blake, Jacquelyn or Aaron are at their new jobs. What’s being referred to is the yeast strain Brettanomyces (pronounced bret-TAN-o-MY-sees), a strain of yeast that’s found in the wild, but also has a number of sub-strains that brewers find desirable in farmhouse, sour and wild ales, and are therefore cultivated in labs to preserve those traits. Brettanomyces, or “Brett” is typically used as a secondary yeast strain added after primary fermentation is completed, and often used in bottle-conditioned and barrel-aged beers.
While you can brew many kinds of beers using only Brettanomyces yeast and get some of its typical characteristics, Brett really shows its stuff when you give it a long, causal stretch of time (like years) in bottles or barrels to go to work. During that time, Brettanomyces will scour whatever oxygen may be left in the bottle or barrel and will break down leftover sugars in the beer to create a lighter body and more carbonation. This yeast’s sensory characteristics (Remember what those are?) are varied and plentiful, depending on various conditions, but include fruity notes such as citrus, pineapple and stone fruit, as well as funk, barnyard, horse blanket, goaty, wet wool, damp earth…the list goes on. And while that may not sound like something you want in a beer, when found in harmony with the beer’s other characteristics, it can be an amazing experience.
Lacing
Sometimes mistakenly referred to by the wine term “legs,” lacing in a beer refers to the aesthetic effect produced when drinking a beer due to head retention and clean glassware. Many things contribute to the foamy head on top of beer, the most prominent of which is the amount of carbon dioxide in solution and how it interacts with the residual proteins in the beer. When drinking your beer out of proper glassware and that glassware is nice and clean, the beer will leave lines of foam behind on the glass as you drink it, which often looks a little like strips of lace.
No lacing? There may be a few reasons for that, such as you may be drinking a style with little to no carbonation, like an old-school lambic. Another reason could be that the beer was brewed with a malt bill that had less proteins, or there are oils from additions like fruits and nuts, which are reducing head retention in the beer. Yet another reason is that the glassware your beer has been poured into may not be very clean. There could be a soapy film left from cleaning, or a greasy film left from attempting to clean the glass in dirty water. One final reason could be that you’re drinking the beer through a straw. Do other people know you’re doing this?
There you have it, folks. You’re now armed with some savvy beer terms to decipher what Seth was bleating about when he gave your favorite beer a .5 rating on Untappd, and the next time you’re at that dinner party and Tucker starts going on about his leggy wine, you can fling him a helping of “I wouldn’t know, I’m over here digging the lacing on this spontaneously-fermented Brett ale and whiffing these killer cherry esters.” Maybe he’ll dribble that BOGO wine on his summer scarf. Cheers.