In 2013, sales
of Session IPA grew 450% in the US,
helping it jump from non-existent to a core range beer within two years. And
because the US is where many brewers look for the latest beer trends, we’re
seeing Session IPA brewed all around the world. But there’s a few things about
this hot-right-now IPA iteration which don’t work for me.
In today’s Americanized
beer parlance ‘Session’ means something relatively low in alcohol content (4%-5%
ABV) and it’s a basic simplification based on the British idea of a session ale – but this American context is not the same
as the British context.
British ‘session
ales’ are a broad group of beers (pales, milds, bitters) that you drink a few
of and still happily want more, where they’re best enjoyed in the pub with
friends. There’s a simplicity to these beers that belies their depth and
balance and makes their drinkability somehow increase as you go from pint to pint during your drinking session –
and that’s where the name comes from: it’s from the extended session of sipping
pints. Many Czech and German beers have a similar quality where they manage to get
their quenching malt-hop-alcohol balance just right to make you want more and
more. It's that crucial quality of wanting more, and not simply that they're low enough in alcohol that you can drink more, that is the difference. American session beer isn't like that.
I’ve never
tasted a Session IPA that’s sessionable in the British sense and they are
almost ironically unsessionable; too dry, too bitter, too intense in aroma and flavour
– they are unbalanced towards the IPA instead of the Session. And sure, the alcohol
content is often (but not always) low enough that we could drink four or five or six, but they are so powerful in
flavour that we soon want to move onto something else: they are
session-strength but not sessionable.
But this is
where I get stuck. IPA owes its popularity to the fact that it’s a beer with an
impact that’s so different to what most people think of as ‘beer’: that huge
aroma, that gripping bitterness which makes you want another taste of the
sweeter, bulking malts, that heightened buzz of alcohol. There’s something
incredibly impressive about IPAs and they have a flavour profile that so many
drinkers have come to love. But that alcohol content is anti-socially high – a
few pints of 7% IPAs leaves us drunk and done. Beer is a social drink and the ‘session’
is the ultimate setting for that.
Yet I do love Session IPAs. I love the flavour and aroma of hops and I want to drink them. There are also some great British Session IPAs and I do see their place between the other hop-forward styles (more aromatic and bitter than pale ale, gentler than IPA). I also like that we can get all the aroma and flavour of an IPA with less of the alcohol, which suggests a shift towards a maturing of the collective beer palate, one which is slowly looping around from the hollering extremities of brewing towards beers of greater drinkability and balance (even if they still come with a distinct US accent).
In a way this is
already happening. Or at least the session trend is evolving with the
generically-named ‘Session Ale’. It’s a broad category but indicative of how
‘Session’ has thrust itself into beer’s vocabulary as the latest cool word,
where it really just means low-ish in alcohol.
If you want hops
and sessionability then we don’t look
to the US and instead we look to British brewing and the pale and hoppy session
beers (the history of which Boak and Bailey have written about here) which are
at the tasty intersection between calm British sessionability and excitable
American impact. We’ve had beer like this for years now, inspired by the
qualities of an American IPA but brewed with the British drinking temperament
in mind. Many of these are really great beers, beers we can drink buckets of,
nailing that malt and hop balance plus the delicious addition of beautifully
fragrant hops, which is all enhanced by the subtle elegances of being pulled
from the cask. I would argue that these are becoming the flagship British craft
beer style today, indicative of where past and present meet in our pint
glasses.
Session ale is
small beer making big gains in the American craft beer market and it’s having
an impact around the world, primarily with Session IPAs, which have become the
latest style which many brewers are attempting. That full-on flavour of hops
with the modest alcohol content is a great addition to the bar, just don’t
expect to have an actual session on Session IPA before needing to change up to
something else (probably a full IPA...).
Top image from Chicago Tribune who ranked 22 Session IPAs with Stone's Go To IPA as number one. That's a great beer.
had similar thoughts a few years back: http://www.fuggled.net/2012/05/session-hopping.html
ReplyDeleteI love Session IPAs and can happily polish off a 6 pack, but given that my definition of a "session" begins at my fourth imperial pint, I couldn't pull an all nighter on them.
A very good analysis: "pale and hoppy" seems to be a style that has developed in the best way possible, from a combination of consumer pull and producer push, and I suspect that if anyone is looking for the "next new thing" this is probably already it.
ReplyDeleteI don’t think the problem is that such beers are intense in flavour: it’s more that they are one-dimensional and have nothing to keep you coming back or ordering another. Mmm, hops, that’s nice. Mmm, hops. More hops. OK, hops. Want another? No, I think I’ll have something else. Whereas a true session beer has a certain magic complexity about it where you get a different aspect of it with every sip.
ReplyDeleteThere is something about how half way through a pint you think "I'll have something else next time". I think the lack of body is part of the problem.
ReplyDeleteYou're absolutely right to highlight the British "pale'n'hoppy" style which, when done well, offers a perfect mix of drinkability and strong hop character. One of the first was Whim Hartington Bitter which originally came out in the early 90s.
ReplyDelete"We’ve had beer like this for years now, inspired by the qualities of an American IPA but brewed with the British drinking temperament in mind. Many of these are really great beers, beers we can drink buckets of, nailing that malt and hop balance plus the delicious addition of beautifully fragrant hops, which is all enhanced by the subtle elegances of being pulled from the cask. I would argue that these are becoming the flagship British craft beer style today, indicative of where past and present meet in our pint glasses."
ReplyDeleteThat just nails it for me. A sensible piece which all railway arch brewers and their ilk should have shoved down their throats until they understand it.
Beers in the 4-5% ABV range are just about the right strength for a sensible and reasonably prolonged session. Czech pilsners, and German Helles, pitched at around 5% take some beating, especially when consumed in their native countries.
ReplyDeleteOver here, I prefer something a little weaker; say around 4.5%, although I am perfectly happy with Harvey’s at 4.0%. This is possibly due to British ales having a little more body; something to do with the use of crystal malt?
Stronger Fest Biers, such as those served at Oktoberfest or Annafest, which weigh in towards the 6% mark, don’t really do it for me, and they definitely don’t lend themselves to being served in litre measures either!
Is it really just because a pale ale has been given a poor rap? If you made a good pale in the US and labeled it as such even though it is far hopper than one would expect, would it not sell better as a session rather than a pale based on consumer tastes/preferace? Truly a buzz word by American standards. I've had many British milds and pales I would totally consider a session ale by American standards.
ReplyDelete