"Found" Beer?

Can you call something "found" if you never knew it was lost in the first place? It was there all along, after all.

I've spent a few hours over the past couple of nights screwing around in the brew garage - listening to music, organizing small bits into storage drawers, putting away stuff that I finally got around cleaning... I even recorded a video for "Home Brew Wednesday" on YouTube (https://youtu.be/TfaZyKQWk6Y).

I'm not sure what possessed me to move some stuff at the front of the shelf where I cellar beer, but I discovered a long-lost gem at the back: one of my first Rye Pale Ales (based on the Can You Brew It Terrapin Rye). That episode aired in the middle of 2010, and I ordered the ingredients from Northern Brewer on my lunch hour at work, so that had to be in May or June of 2010.

I don't think I can adequately express in words the feelings I had when I made this discovery... Excitement? Elation? Anticipation? Amazement? Intellectually, I do know a couple of things about that discovery however... I loved that beer, and have loved it every time I have made it; and I was going to drink it. Soon.

I was already set for that evening as far as beer intake goes. Plus, I wanted to set myself up right for this tasting: clean palate, note taking materials, proper chilling, etc. So I placed it in the laundry room fridge, careful not to disturb the yeast at the bottom of the bottle.

It was remarkable how brilliant the beer appeared in the bottle: I could easily read 12 point print through the beer in the bottle! The ring of sediment at the bottom was further evidence of how time had cleared this beer. I went to bed longing to try this nearly-five-year-old beer! In fact, I dreamt about the tasting session - a surreal dream where several of us sampled the beer and discussed its merits and detractors...

The next day, there was a break in the weather, and I opted for the responsible choice and began my evening by mowing our lawn for the first time this year... That 2010 Rye Pale would have to wait. And then I had to make dinner. It was beginning to feel like I would never get to the beer!

With my tasting notebook and a purple fountain pen in hand, I finally settled in to pour my 2010 Terrapin Rye Pale clone at about 8:30 PM. I was excited and nervous at the same time! It was a great beer in its prime, but had it stood the test of time?

Appearance:
As previously mentioned, I could sense its brilliant clarity in the bottle - a careful decant preserved that. It poured a brilliant copper with a tall, white, rocky head that lasted and lasted - it simply would not dissipate. I'm sure the rye malt had something to do with that, and the fact that it had a good foam stand was a good indication that there was no contamination. The carbonation was lively, with tiny bubbles rising to the head. As I drank the beer, the head did not fade, and it left a heavy lacing on the glass.

Aroma:
Virtually no hop aroma remained - at least given the original hop schedule (over an ounce added at 10 minutes and flameout and 1.25 oz of Amarillo as a dry hop). There was a subtle spiciness in the nose - perhaps the rye, perhaps the Goldings or Fuggles hops? I picked up something else in the aroma, something elusive... I couldn't put my finger on it. The closest I could come was slightly vanilla-toffee, just a hint.

Taste:
The only hop character that remained was the overall bitterness - no definable hop character. In other words, I could no longer detect any of the distinct hop flavors: no Fugg

le, no Goldings, no Cascade, no Amarillo - no identifiable hop character. There was bitterness to balance the malt, even after 5 years. The malt had definitely moved forward as the beer aged - it used to be a hop-forward ale, with a spicy-rye malt undertone.

That ambiguous/fleeting aroma that I had a hard time naming was also present in the flavor, which is no surprise given how much smell factors into taste. I believe that aroma/flavor is oxidation-related, because I associate it most closely with bottled British ales, like those from Fuller's or Samuel Smith. It was a bit caramel-like - sort of toffee? It was not nearly as strong as in the aroma, but it was definitely there almost as a subtext... There was a bit of oxidative twang as well, but nowhere near enough to be unpleasant.

Mouthfeel:
I was pleased to find that the beer had not thinned over the half decade it cellared in the garage. I do believe that all of the hop character dropping out of the beer did affect the mouthfeel, because when it was fresh, between the rye and the hops, it had a strong medium mouthfeel, falling just short of chewy. Over time, it had now settled into the medium-light mouthfeel range, and the carbonation helped contribute to that as well.

Overall:
Wow. My excitement at the discovery of this beer was tempered with a heavy dose of apprehension: time is the enemy. Oxygen, contamination, temperature swings - any number of variables could have crushed this beer. It is nowhere near the original beer, but it held up OK. It was enjoyable. Not as zippy as the original, it did have the pleasant oxidative character I like in bottled imported British ales. The clarity, head retention, and lacing were amazing. I kind of wish I had discovered this bottle 2-3 years ago, because I can imagine a happy medium between the original beer and the 5-year beer, and in my mind's eye, that seems amazing!

"Lost" beer? "Found" beer? It is gone forever now. But the record of its tasting will live on...