Columbia Finally Gets Her Limelight



Oregon Rain!!
Roger and Dr. Al Haunold
performing the Willamette
Valley Hop Dance, Goschie Farms.
"These are my babies," beams
The People's HopMeister.

Introducing, finally, after being banished by the King of Beers in the hop basement for two decades, the fragrant, the durable, the the unsung sister of the Queen of Oregon Hops, the soon to be mighty Lovely Miss Columbia!!  
We've written previously about our efforts to resurrect Columbia, the forgotten sister of Willamette. To recap, back in the Summer of Love, Dr. Al Haunold was asked by Bud to breed a hop similar in character to Fuggles. Several years later, early in the Disco era, he presented two new cultivars, Columbia and Willamette.

Bud's team of six brewers evaluated pilot beers using the new little "Fugglish" darlings, and all six selected Columbia as the winner. Rank, however, has its privileges. Along comes their boss, Bud's head brewmaster, Frank Schwaiger. Frank zeroed in on the chemistry. Columbia had a slightly higher alpha acid profile than Willamette (8-9% AA vs. 5-7%, respectively), but otherwise the oil profile was virtually indistinguishable. Our German born Brewmeister prophesied that the US consumer would never go for a higher alpha acid hop (a prediction that ranks right up there with Henry Ford's lawyer advice that the automobile was simply a fad and the horse was here to stay).

The result: Bud chose Willlamette, which went on to fame and fortune, and Columbia never saw the light of day. Until now. Yesterday, on a brilliant, sunny day in the Valley, we walked the hopyards at the idyllic Goschie Farms with Columbia's proud papa, Dr. Al Haunold. Al last saw big green Columbia cones dangling some 40 years ago. Needless to say, he was happy to see Willamette's slightly bolder sister finally get her moment in the sunlight.

Separated at Birth.
Pointy Columbias, on the left,
and plump Willamettes, on the right.

And so are we. Columbia and Willamette share the same parents and yet they sport amazing differences. Take a look at the picture to the right. The Columbia cone is longer and narrower with spiked bracts (granted, this is approxiately 2-3 weeks before harvest). Willamette is fuller, rounder and plumper. As mentioned, the chemistry profiles are slighlty different. As for aroma, based on an in-the-field rub & sniff, both have superb aroma, but the Columbia has a subtle "lemon twist" at the finish that seems to trigger an eye-lid flutter response and cheeky giggle.  

Welcome to the light, Miss Columbia. May you enjoy many more moments in the sun as we, the beer drinking public, finally get to revel in your glorious bounty.

Roger Worthington
8/19/11







A Man Outstanding in His Field.

Here he is -- the man who

brought us 23 public hop varieties.

Dr. Al Haunold, surrounded by Columbia hops.







HopTalk with Al Haunold, Part XI

Freedom Hops: The Case for Public-Private Breeding Partnerships

Those who know me understand that I tend to fixate. I get the sandy grain of an idea, apply loads of constant pressure (with maximum compression around 3 in the morning.) and either a blood vessel bursts or out pops a pearl.

Here’s my latest pearl in process: the need for public-private hop breeding partnerships.

Here’s what started the itch. I was perusing the Strategic Plan of the Hop Research Council (1998, updated in 2007). By way of background, the HRC consists of a few larger brewers and all the usual merchants in Yakima. These are the insiders who have a tremendous influence on the direction of how public research dollars are spent. They also assess themselves certain fees and make additional money from HRC available through research grants.

Now, everybody knows that I think the world of Dr. Al Haunold, an extraordinary public servant I’ve heralded on this blog as “the People’s Hopmeister.” After escaping the Nazi War Machine and emigrating to the US, eventually my Austria-born mentor came to work at the USDA in Corvallis where from 1965 to 1996 he took the lead in releasing to the public over 20 new hop varieties.

Twenty! For Free! Al didn’t patent those inventions. He never saw a dime from any royalties because there were no royalties – not then, not now. Neither did Uncle Sam, nor anyone else on Al’s team of public breeders. Anybody can get access to rhizomes for hall-of-fame US varieties like Cascades, Willamette, Nugget, Liberty, and others – all the hopwork of our Nation’s No. 1 Hopmeister. Anyone can get ‘em, and anybody can grow ‘em.

Al retired in the late 1990s but his final collaborations were not released until the early 2000s, to wit: Newport and Mt. Rainier (both crosses made by Al in 1994), Horizon (cross made by Al in 1970), and the low-alpha Teamaker. By the way, Teamaker’s roots go all the way back to 1970. The brewers were not keen on it because it contained virtually no alpha acids. But his technicians loved it for brewing hop tea.

Since then – the early 2000s -- not a single variety has been released. What happened? Did the USDA lose its edge? Did they surrender? Or did they just in fine George W. Bush fashion hand over the keys to the candy store to private industry?

To answer that, let’s go back to that HRC “strategy” statement that has so jarred me – a statement which in truth prompted me to get into the game and to sponsor an aroma hop breeding program at Oregon State University.

Here it is, verbatim, from the HRC strategic plan (click here to read the entire text).

"While varietal development is a critical requirement for the continued success of USA hop growers, there is some concern that public breeding programs should not be involved in the development and release of varieties."

Huh? What’s so egregious about public servants serving the public? Who voiced this "concern"? Private breeders who saw an opportunity to fatten up with their snoots in the public’s trough? I asked Al whether there was any fuss about him taking his work too seriously, that is, depriving private breeders of their chance to make a buck on the public’s dime.

Al shrugged off the strange insinuation. "No, I wasn’t aware of any concerns. We didn’t start seeing any private breeders in the US until the mid 1980s when the laws for patenting agricultural products became more lenient. Before then, I actively worked with brewers, farmers and merchants, and we all got alone fine." With stellar results.

The HRC statement continues:

"Several private breeding programs actively work towards developing and releasing public and proprietary varieties grown with the support of a marketing system that helps growers sell their product on the world market." (Italics added).

Private breeders release “public” varieties? Well, that’s a new one. Al just had to laugh. “That’s an oxymoron. A private company can’t make a public release. I don’t know what they’re talking about.” Aside from this nonsense, the meaning is clear: the merchant-big grower-breeder industrial complex has set its sights on controlling the world market. That hop hegemony begins with patenting varieties and granting licenses to selected growers. An excellent strategy for controlling the price and supply of US hops.

It gets better:

“In almost all other crops, public breeding programs no longer serve as the major developer of varieties but do serve as developers of germplasm containing a specific trait… Germplasm developed by public programs is then utilized by private breeders for use in the development of superior varieties – the better the germplasm, the better the varieties that are ultimately made.”

Whoa doggies! First, the phony argument that “everybody’s doing it.” Second, no attempt to proffer evidence that the public is hurt by an aggressive, efficient and amazingly productive public breeding program. Third, the cavalier way in which the privatizers skip over any ethical issues and swinishly assert that the fruits of the public’s labors is their god-given birthright.

“I disagree,” Al offered modestly. “If the public program develops the tools that help us breed superior varieties, then the public should continue to be involved in bringing new varieties to market. In fact it’s more efficient, as the tool makers generally know best how to use those tools in the field.”

What does this mean for Al’s legacy of public service? “Well,” Al pondered, “it’s appears to have been ruined by the pursuit of profit. The private breeders smelled the money. They want the public to subsidize the creation of the tools – the germplasm, which can select for higher yields, disease resistance, etc – but not share anything in return. They want to restrict access by farmers. That goes against everything I worked for.”

The privatization model kicked in about the time Al retired (nice send off, boys!). How many aroma varieties have sprouted since then? Amarillo? Well, that’s an aroma, but it wasn’t the result of a private breeding program—the Gamaches found it on their farms and trademarked it, which means only they or their chosen few can grow it. Ahtanum? It’s relatively recent, but we don’t know much about its parentage. Citra is a recent privately developed hop, and by all accounts it’s a home run. But we don’t know much about where the germplasm came from. Was publicly owned germplasm exploited? If so, did the patent owner agree to share any royalties with the public?

And that’s the point. There is absolutely nothing wrong with private breeding. It should be encouraged. It’s risky. It’s expensive. It’s time consuming (8 – 12 years on average). As long as there is robust access to public varieties, the profit margin on any new variety is a matter of speculation. And any breeding mission will necessarily involve brewer feedback, just as Citra did with Sierra Nevada and Deschutes, to name a few.

The wicket gets sticky when private breeders utilize public germplasm, develop a “new” variety and then attempt to patent it for their own personal gain without sharing the fruits. Since patent applicants generally insist on keeping secret their formulas, recipes and designs, they jealously guard the pedigree of their plants like the proverbial rich ugly old maid and her silver spoons.

How are competitors going to know what’s off limits? And how does permanently restricting access to varieties by farmers, growers and other merchants help grow the craft beer industry anyway? And think of the potential for corporate espionage: it’s not inconceivable that breeders will raid USDA germplasm depositories before the cell-lines are publically released. (See the History of CTZ, here.)

That’s one big reason why Indie Hops funded the aroma hops breeding program at OSU. Public hop breeding, especially of aroma varieties, had essentially died not too long after Al retired. Our goal has been to empower OSU to invent, invent, invent. With inventing comes ownership. With ownership comes the right to impose reasonable conditions. With conditions comes the potential for royalties. With royalties comes a predictable revenue stream, a big chunk of which can be re-invested back into a public-private program.

The death of public hop breeding programs, we believe, is not only a shame, it’s a punch in the stomach to the work and legacy of The People’s Hopmeister, Al Haunold. Indie Hops stepped in after InBev/AB pulled out to fund a first-ever aroma hops breeding program in large part to continue Al’s pursuit of hops.

Does this mean we believe we are entitled to complete ownership of any new hop “invention?” Absolutely not. We believe in sharing. We look forward to executing on a public-private model that exacts sweat, skill, equity and labor from each stakeholder and commensurately rewards them while also serving the hop growing and hop-loving public.

Roger Worthington
8/26/10

Optimal Oil Extraction 101.

Whole Cones vs Turkish Espresso Pellets: Where’s That Sweet Spot?

How does a brewer get the most hop oil for the buck? Does he dry hop with whole cones? Or with pellets? The research shows that a brewer using pellets can extract about 30-35% more alpha acid in solution than he can from whole cones, but I’m not aware of any oil extraction studies pitting cones vs pellets.

It’s not a perfect analogy, but assuming the same holds true with respect to oil extraction – that a pellet offers up more oil for extraction than a cone, what is the optimal design of the pellet?

In short, where’s the sweet spot? On one end, we have a properly harvested, dried, baled and stored whole cone flower. On the other, we have that same flower pulverized into a fine Turkish espresso powder compressed to a 3 mm pellet.

How do we open up the flower to best utilize the oil inside the resin glands without unduly exposing them to the ravages of oxygen and heat? And why do we need to “open” them up at all?

The answer to that last question is intuitive. Look at a whole cone. The oil together with the resins is inside the tiny cup- shaped yellowish resin glands. The glands themselves are coated with a permeable membrane, or skin. Even though it seems logical, there’s no definitive research proving that heat or air have an impact on the gland’s permeability. The permeability varies between hop varieties.

The inside of the gland consists of many molecules, including the hop resins, the oil (about 250 bio-chemically distinct compounds) and anti-oxidants (like quercetin and xanthohumol), which themselves help prevent oxidation and prolong the shelf life of both the oil and the resin.

Nature designed the cone to protect those precious glands from predators. They’re tucked around the vertebrae of the cone (the strig) where they cling to the bracteoles, the internal scales shielded by the weather-exposed bracts. If you poured water over the cone, it’s not likely that much would penetrate the bracteoles and reach the resin glands (like water off a duck’s back).

If you dipped the cone into an aqueous solution, more water would reach the central axis, but the process of extracting the oils from the glands is not very efficient. This became clear to me when I recently scooped up a handful of spent whole cones that had been dry hopped. I opened a few up and I could plainly see a few yellowish glands, all perky and plump.

It’s not a great analogy, but think about coffee beans. You can’t dip coffee beans into hot water and efficiently extract any appreciable amount of oil. To bring out the oil, you need to grind the bean up. The question is, to get the best flavor and aroma out of that bean, how do you preserve the bean, when do you grind it up, and how finely do you grind it?

I’ve been applying these same questions to the hop cone. It’s clear to me after examining several pellets from different pellet mills that the size of the pellet and the coarseness/fineness of the grind dramatically influence both the quality and quantity of utilizable oil. Granted, I haven’t measured the “extraction” rate or amount in a laboratory. But it’s fairly well known that hop oils degrade rapidly when they’re exposed to heat, light and air.

If the key to optimal oil extraction is maximal lupulin gland preservation, but the oil glands are tucked inside, how does one “process” the cone, or open it up, and shake out the glands, without unduly rupturing, cooking, or shattering them? I called the People’ Hopmeister , Dr. Al Haunold, for help.

It turns out there is a middle ground, but I’ m not sure how sweet it is. Dr. Al tells me that there was a technique developed years ago for shaking the lupulin glands out of the cone and capturing them fairly whole: pure, concentrated glands containing resins and oils. The shake-out process requires freezing the dried cones followed by a “gentle” shaking. The cones are not compressed into a bale. The process is laborious and both time and space consuming.

The shake-down-and-out method might work in a Willy Wonka-ish factory run by oompa loompahs who never complain. But, after investing a few million in a pellet mill, not sure I’m ready to throw down for a massive shake down operation. Nor do I think there’s an immediate demand for pure unfractionated hop oil, as brewers are accustomed to using pellets and cones, and few have drilled down to knowing precisely which of the several dozen popular oil “essences” they want for each brew style.

Al explains that the resin glands during picking and drying tend to fall out of the tossed-about cone. The rate at which the glands fall or shake out depends on the variety, the moisture content, and the harvest date – if the cone is harvested late and is therefore too “fluffy,” then the glands are more likely to fall out – a phenomenon he calls “shattering.”

A badly harvested, picked and dried cone can lose up to 40% of its lupulin glands. Where do they go? They fall on the floor. Per Al, you can separate the good farmers from the mediocre or worse by the concentration of yellow lupulin glands on the picking and drying floors – the so-called “Yellow Floor” syndrome. And by the way, according to the Hop Oracle, it’s not unusual for the farmer to scoop up all that yellow gold and sell it separately to extractors in years of hop shortages. In good hop production years, there may not be much of a demand for such sweepings.

All that piney, citrusy, mango-ish, floral oil, together with all the bittersweet alpha, swept away like dust in the wind. A tragedy!

So, where do we go from here? We continue to question and tinker. I recently met with a brewer who said he wanted to experiment with dry hopping using both pellets and whole cones. He’s convinced that while traditional, and perhaps even romantic, dry hopping with whole cones leaves a lot of juice on the table (in addition to soaking up a lot of valuable beer). He wants to dry hopping using cones, in one batch, hand, and coarsely ground and fatter IH pellets, in another, and evaluate the differences.

Straight up he says whats driving his curiosity is a blend of both wanting to up the quality of his brew and save money by using fewer hops but extracting more flavorful oil. We like that. Question everything.

In the meantime, we control the things we can. For example, we will freeze our freshly harvested 2010 bales on receipt. We’ll hammer the flowers minimally and squeeze them through our die lovingly at under 110 Degrees F. And we’ll double nitrogen flush our cool pellets, wrap them in an impermeable layer of foil, and whisk them right back into the deep freeze in under 70 minutes. Can’t wait to crank it up!

Roger Worthington
7/27/10

In Pursuit of Hop Heaven: Getting High at The Indie Hops Mt. Hood Cycling Classic

Hood River, Or. Two races under my belt, two to go. Building up a mighty thirst. Maintaining my one-brew-a -day discipline, but can’t wait to go rogue on Sunday just after I finish the windy-grindy criterium around the iconic Full Sail Brewery.

I plan to celebrate with a brew I just discovered today – Full Sail’s “Hop Pursuit.” Great minds think alike? I stopped by Full Sail after finishing the notorious Columbia Gorge time trial (can you say “intentional infliction of emotional and cardio-pulmonary distress”), hoping to chat with brewer Jim Kelter.

Exactly one year ago today, before we had a pellet mill, before we had farm contracts, I met with Jim to talk about our pursuit of noble hops. Then, Indie Hops was just a dream. He suggested I come back when we had hops.

My mission today was to get Jim’s feedback on the diameter, coarseness, oiliness, dispersal, entrainment and aroma of our hop pellets. As you may have read, we’re proud of our new “patient” pelleting mill, but the only opinion that matters is that of the brewers. Their feedback is critical in our mission to “get it right.” Our goal is nothing short of the best designed hop pellet using the best aroma hops in the world.

Jim wasn’t in, but I hope to hook up with him on Sunday in our VIP tent. Full Sail has been a long time sponsor of the Mt. Hood Cycling Classic. Their support of cycling has always impressed me. The cork-screw criterium around their brewery is like a roller coaster – you’re constantly diving, angling, swooping and sprinting. On a sunny day the course presents challenges. If it rains, better notify the local ER to bring in a few more trauma doctors.
Here’s something funny. Several months ago, we filed for a trademark on the phrase “In Hop Pursuit.” The phrase captures our mission to both breed new aroma hop varieties as well as resurrect a few of the unsung heroes. Plus it reminds me of the mixture of harnessed rage, nut crazy discipline, and unrelenting desire that helped me win a few medals as a pursuit-ist on the velodrome Back in The Day (way back in The Day!).
Thank goodness my lawyer’s instinct to file first and ask questions later has mellowed as I’ve transitioned from litigator to budding hopmeister. I’m hoping Full Sail’s Hop Pursuit is a huge success and I want to be part of that glory! Since tomorrow I’ve got to climb 10,000 feet over 92 miles with a mountain finish at Mt Hood Meadows ski resort , I’m going to hold off on draining this bottle of Hop Pursuit that’s staring at me.

I admire the label, but the ingredients are making my mouth water. From their website:

“We brewed it with the less aggressive, old school craft brewing hops– Cascade, Willamette, and Mt. Hood– to celebrate more of the hop flavor and less of the hop bitterness. These give the beer a nice and fresh citrus herbal character without a lot of intensity; instead it has a softly flavorful character with touches of orange and lemon. We dry hopped for two weeks to amplify these delicate hop flavors.” (http://www.fullsailbrewing.com/brewmaster-reserve.cfm

Yes! Here’s to the “old school” greats, brought to you by the People’s Hopmeister, Dr. Al Haunold, my hop Svengali. Normally, before a big race, I’d be nervous . Plus, since I won this race last year, I’d be feeling the pressure to repeat (see cool shot of this hop-fiend on point: http://www.mthoodcyclingclassic.com/rider-list/featured-riders ).

But not this year. Knowing I’ve got a 22 ounce bottle of Hop Pursuit waiting for me at the finish line virtually ensures that even if the race is pure wicked Hell, soon enough I’ll be entering hop heaven.

Praise Hell. Get to Hop Heaven.

Roger Worthington
6/4/10
Reporting from the Indie Hops Mt. Hood Cycling Classic, Hood River, Or. Hop On! http://www.mthoodcyclingclassic.com/

Hoptalk with Hopmeister Al, Part IX

Aromas? Yes. But Can the Willamette Valley Handle Dual Purpose Heavies Like Centennial, Horizon and Chinook?

If the Willamette Valley is renown for its aroma hops and Yakima Valley for it’s high alpha, where do “dual purpose” hops fit in? Since most mid to high alpha hops hail from Yakima, does that mean they don’t or wouldn’t thrive in Oregon?

First, a bit of background.

“Dual purpose” is a term of art that first emerged in the mid 1990s, about the time that our hopmeister Dr. Al was hanging up his cover-alls and putting away his clipboard. “We never used that term,” recalled Al.

All Purpose Cluster

“Actually, when I first came to the industry in 1965, brewers talked about three major categories of hops. Aromas, high alphas, and general kettle hops. The latter referred mostly to Cluster hops, such as Early Cluster, California Cluster, Yakima Cluster, and Late Cluster. All of these were virtually indistinguishable by quality characteristics. They differed only by their maturity and harvest dates. California Cluster seemed to rank above the others for reasons that I never quite understood.“

The industrial brewers, continued Al, “reluctantly” used Clusters, since they were cheap, easily available, and supplied generic bitterness to their beer. “They boiled the heck out of those Clusters to get every drop of bitterness,” Al laughed, “and then finished it off with an aroma or general kettle hop.”

By the mid 1970s, the emphasis shifted. “General kettle hops” went the way of the Do-Do as the Big Boys simplified the choice between aroma and high alpha. It wasn’t until the 1990s, that a third party re-emerged, this time at the urging of the craft brewers, who demanded the best from both worlds -- hops that could be used for bittering and European style aroma. Thus was born the utility or “dual purpose” hop.

Perle the Pioneer

The closest thing to a “dual purpose” in Al’s hey day was Perle. When grown in Oregon, which is lower in latitude than its home-hopyard in Germany, Perle alpha averaged around 10-11% AA, which back in the day came pretty close to the high water mark for alpha hops.

To qualify as a noble aroma, however, a hop needed to have storagability similar to the classic old-time aromas such as Hallertauer mittelfrueh, Tettnanger or Saazer. A hop’s storagability, explains Al, is an index for measuring the life a hop’s original alpha acid content.

When kept in non-refrigerated space, the land race aroma hop often lost nearly half of their original alphas. Consequently, they were considered to be “poor keepers.” Is that a bad thing? No, says Al. “The loss of original alpha does not mean that the bittering potential had decreased by a comparable amount. Experienced brewers recognized that when alpha acids degraded, the resulting compounds could still offer bittering, even though those new metabolite compounds couldn’t be assayed by a routine alpha analysis.”

Which to me sounds like hops, like wine, can age with grace. Instead of evaporating down to nothing, the hop oils and acids instead can generate new downstream compounds.

Whether a hop is a good, fair or poor keeper is really a message to the grower on the level of TLC that will be required to preserve the best of the good stuff. Why? Because mishandling a hop during or after harvest compounds the natural loss or degradation of alpha acids. How is that measured? It isn’t. To know whether a hop has been handled, you need to know the skill, patience and infrastructure of your grower, as well as your supplier.

Let’s go back full circle to Perle. Perle’s “good” storagability made it too good to hang with the “poor keeper” nobles. In the brewing process, Perle acted more like a high alpha hop than a finicky, thin skinned and easily bruised noble.

Dual Purpose: Good Keepers

Nowadays, in addition to having fair to good storagability, dual purpose hops are generally about twice as high in alpha than nobles, with about twice the total oils. Signature examples are Centennial (11-14% AA, 2.5 oil ml/100g) and Horizon (12-14% AA, 2.0 oil), the latter being another one of Dr. Al’s hop creations (released in 1998 after Al retired).

Newport (15% AA, 2.0 oil) and Chinook (13-15%, 1.8 oil) are two more popular bittering hops with aroma characteristics, both of which Dr. Al struggles to classify as “dual purpose.” “I was approached by Miller Brewing Company in the early 1990s to breed a back up hop to high-alpha Galena. I crossed Magnum, a German super alpha hop with Galena and Hallertauer mittelfrueh parentage, with a male seedling of Brewers Gold, Fuggle and Late Grape parentage. The outcome was Newport.”

Dr. Al did not make the crosses for Centennial, which was originally bred at the USDA facility in Prosser, Washington. Dr. Al did assist in field testing the selection in Oregon.

Green Greatness Denied?

Although Dr. Al had a hand in the creation or testing of these four high alpha/medium aroma cultivars, none of them – Centennial, Chinook, Horizon or Newport, and you can add Mt. Raineer to that list - have flourished commercially in the Willamette Valley.

To be sure, Horizon, Mt. Raineer and Newport have failed to catch on anywhere, whether in Oregon, Idaho or Washington. With respect to Chinook, which ranks as the 5th highest use hop by craft brewers (BA 2009 hop usage survey), the entire US crop of such hops in 2009 was harvested in Washington. As for Centennial, surpassed only by Cascade as the most popular hop in 2009 among crafties, only two Oregon growers harvested Centennial in 2009, both going off radar to do so. Washington brought home nearly the entire supply.

Why is this? Do dual purpose hops grow better in the Yakima Valley? Are the yields in Yakima higher? Are Oregon growers not up the challenge? Do dual purpose hops “keep” or “store” better in the high plains of Eastern Washington?

According to Al, the answer has to do with history, habit and logistics and nothing to do with terroir, or farmer skill, or passion.

“For years the hop merchants have been contracting with Yakima farmers to grow Centennial. A dual-purpose hop like Centennial needs to be harvested, dried, cooled and refrigerated quickly, to avoid combustion and oxidation,” Al instructs soberly. “Most of the cold storage capacity is in Yakima. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to truck tons of volatile hops in non-refrigerated trucks from Oregon when they can be grown a few miles from the storage coolers in Yakima.”

Heat Blows

Hops in general don’t like heat, but higher alpha hops in particular have been known to combust or “self-ignite” when not properly cooled and stored. It’s imperative, stressed Dr. Al, that before stacking bales in a warehouse, the temperature at the core of the bale, as well as the ambient temperature, must be brought down to the 70s.

Hops with high total oils, such as Bullion, Chinook, Newport and Centennial, can generate tremendous heat inside a tightly compressed 200 pound bale. The heat needs to dissipate. It’s critical, reminds Al, that hops be allowed to cool off after drying in a loose stack when removed form the kiln. “If you bale them while they’re hot, and stack them up end on end in a closed room without allowing the heat to dissipate,” Al warns gravely, “they’ll self ignite. They’ll blow.” As in sky high. As in you better have good insurance.

If heat is an enemy, then the Willamette Valley must be a safe harbor. By comparison, the day time ambient temperatures in the Valley around harvest time are six (6) degrees cooler than in Yakima. Impatience is another enemy. Hops must be allowed to cool down for at least 18-24 hours before baling. Hops are dried in the kiln at about 140F (often much higher on especially hot summer days). The optimal temp of a baled hop before storage should hover around 72F. The optimal temp of baled hops in in cold storage drops below freezing.

A hop baled before it’s time and temp is a recipe for blackened, oxidized hops, or worse. Ka-Blam!

What about yields? According to Al, the yields between Oregon and Washington should be compatible. What about alpha acid product? Compatible. What about disease resistance? Per Dr. Al, growing Chinook in Oregon may pose a challenge because of the risk of downy mildew. However, he assures, that risk can be managed by good farming technique and vigilance.

Centennials Busting to Break Out
What about those Oregon-grown Centennials? Are they any good? I haven’t seen any data comparing the chemistry profiles, not that the numbers alone tell the story. We have received feedback from brewers who have used Centennials harvested in 2009 from Goschie Farms (one of our farm partners). In so many words, the consensus sounded something like … err uhh, Damn! This is good sh**!

Here at Indie Hops, we’re satisfied that the Willamette Valley terroir is well suited for both aroma and dual purpose varieties. In the end, it comes down to the talent, skill, patience, experience and passion of the grower. We’ve got two of the finest in Goschie Farms and Coleman Farms.

Cooler, Greener, Richer

In 2010, Indie will be planting “Salmon Safe” Chinook (gotta love that!), Centennial, Horizon, Perle, and a host of aroma hops (e.g., Cascade, Liberty, Mt. Hood, Ultra, Goldings, Santiam, Crystal and Columbia).

If storage is a problem, we can fix that. We’ve got the space. Our patient pelleting mill is now running, which means there’s no need to truck Oregon’s finest beer flower 250 miles to Yakima in the dog days of August. We’ll be able to quickly convert baled cones into fresh, oily, happy pellets within a few days of harvest. We’ve lowered the temperature of the pelleting die below 110 degrees F and our storage cooler is always below freezing.

But more on that later.

Roger Worthington
4/2/10

HopTalk with Hopmeister Al Haunold, Part VIII

If You Like Willamette, You’re Going to Love its Forgotten Sister, Columbia
Columbia, not to be confused with the super alpha Columbus, is your proverbial hop diamond in the rough. Released to the public in 1977, this aroma cultivar has never found it’s niche in the marketplace. Like it’s namesake, the mighty Columbia river, we think Columbia is indeed a mighty hop, but it’s potential has historically been dammed up or drowned out, ironically, by the super star status of her big sister: Willamette.

An Internet search yields little reliable information on Columbia, for good reason. The BA hop usage data shows that zero pounds of Columbia were used by crafties in 2009. The reason for that is simple: crafties don’t know much about it, merchants aren’t endorsing it, and farmers without forward contracts simply aren’t growing it.

Nipped in the Bud

Indie Hops intends to revive this long-buried, unheralded but busting-to-break-out aroma hop. We’re planting several acres this year on the verdant Goschie Farms in the Willamette Valley, where, you’ll learn, the seeds were literally planted, harvested, brewed and promptly scuttled over three decades ago.

We believe that but for the snout and cloud of one very powerful brewer more than 30 years ago, Columbia today could easily share the leading role with her ballyhooed sister, Willamette.

Here’s the story.

In 1967, our eager young hopmeister Al Haunold was charged with the task of breeding a new Fuggle-like hop, to replace the old English Fuggle hop, which had not produced well in Oregon. At the time, Cluster was all the rage in Washington, and Brewers Gold was the market leader in Oregon, as both generated hefty yields.

Industrial brewers at the time (you know: Strohs, Schlitz, Pabst, Falstaff, Rheingold, Anheuser Busch, Miller) were having trouble securing reliable supplies of imported Fuggles from the UK and Slovenia. (As a sidenote, many moons ago Fuggle had been transplanted to Yugoslavia, whence it emerged as the hop marketed today under the name “Styrian”).

In the USDA greenhouses at Oregon State, Dr.Al succeeded in doubling the chromosome number of the original Fuggle to create a tetraploid Fuggle hop, which was identical to the original Fuggle (is there anything this man can’t do?). He then crossed this tetraploid with an open pollinated male Fuggle seedling, one teeny-tiny hop flower at a time, deftly wielding a Q-tip to pollinate the male (picture Geppetto breathing life into Pinnochio).

In the year (1968), the master hopcrafter germinated the seeds, strung the tiny plants in the greenhouse, and obtained about 1000 healthy potted plants, the following year were moved to the field. After a few years of testing small samples, Dr. Al selected the six most promising genotypes (all obtained from the original Fuggle) and submitted one pound bale samples for test brewing.

The new hops were brewed and presented to a taste panel consisting of about eight brewers from Anheuser Busch, which back then was big but not yet ginormous. The selected “Fugglish Six” included what later became Willamette and Columbia.

You might think Columbia would be the clear winner by name alone. In the early 1970s, before the Feds established the EPA, the Willamette was essentially an open sewer. Papermills along the river between Eugene and Portland spewed their untreated chemical waste into the dying river. Cities dumped their untreated sewage. Salmon runs were a thing of the past. Parents warned their kids, myself included, to avoid the stinky river like the plaque (which of course meant that’s exactly where I cooled off during the hot summers!)

Selected But Not Chosen

The AB taste panel overwhelmingly preferred Columbia. The hop cultivar had higher alpha acids than Willamette (8-9% vs. 6-7%) and a higher production yield. But it was also higher in Co-Humulone (36-40% vs. 29-32%), registered a higher H/C (humulene/cryophyllene) ratio in its oil and matured 4-7 days later than Willamette.

Why did the panel choose Columbia? It’s hard to say, concludes Al. “The alpha acid and oil levels were so close it would have been very hard to distinguish flavor differences.”

Enter Frank Schwaiger, AB’s German-born master brewer. “Frank was amazing,” recalled Al. “Before instruments were readily available for measuring alpha acid and oil components, Frank had developed an incredibly keen sense of aroma and flavor.” Dr. Al credits Frank with catapulting AB from the back of the pack to its current leadership position.

Banished by the King of Beers

Whether Frank was following his nose or simply injecting a cynical business acumen is not known, but the titan of industrial beer rejected the consensus winner. He overruled his colleagues, choosing Willamette instead. And thus was Columbia relegated to the dark basement as the ugly old sister, while Willamette flourished in the limelight

What was going on here? Was aroma the deciding factor? Both offered mildly fruity and earthy aroma. Or, as a sign of things to come, did Frank pull Willamette through because it was lower in alpha acid, and thus thought to be less bitter? We can only speculate. So that’s what we’ll do.

However, before doing that, Al wanted the record to be perfectly clear – Willamette was (and is) one helluva hop. He proudly remembers what Frank told him years ago: “Willamette,” Frank thundered, “is the closest to the original Oregon-grown Fuggle of any other hop I have ever tested.” High praise indeed and well done young Al.

Back to the story. Now, at about that time, the industrials were trending towards lighter beers that promised not to offend the average consumer, who was sought to actually prefer coca cola (sweet) to beer (bitter). In the 1970s, the bittering units of popular beers hovered around 14 IBU. Today, the global market is demanding hopped-out beers that average below 9 IBU, a level which is on the cusp of being “undetectable” or below the flavor threshold.

Less is More Money?

Perhaps Frank saw the future, a future in which the most profitable beers contained the least amount of hops and malt. Instead of targeting connoisseurs, maybe he envisioned targeting a dumbed down mass audience with a beer-flavored beverage that would be served at super cold so as to numb the taste buds to whatever hop bitterness managed to sneak through.

Maybe Frank detected more bitterness in Columbia. At the time, before the advent of High Pressure Liquid Chromatography (HPLC) in 1979, Frank probably wouldn’t have known that Willamette had a lower CoH than Columbia. Cohumulone, once boiled and converted to iso-cohumulone, is thought to contribute mightily to the finished beer’s bitterness. Perhaps, with his refined snout and sensitive tongue, Frank sensed Willamette would better serve a consumer market attracted to low to barely detectable bitterness in their beer.

In any event, you’ll notice that it was a Behemoth Brewer who decided the fate of Al’s little green creations. Would a wine connoisseur let Ripple decide what grapes to grow? The criteria for hop selection are completely different. The biggies want processed alpha acid extracts for the most part, the hand-crafties want beer with flavor, aroma, nutrients, color and body.

Reversal of Fortune

In the late 1970s, AB contracted with Goschie Farms in the Willamette Valley to grow a few hundred acres of Columbia. When Frank picked Willamette and doomed Columbia, AB ordered Goschie Farms to destroy all of those lovely hops. None came to market.

Fast forward to 2006. AB again approached Goschie Farms to experimentally grow several varieties, including Columbia. Goschie dutifully and eagerly planted 30 hills of mighty Columbia rootstock.

But, as fate would have it, Columbia never found the open waters of the marketplace. AB sold out to Belgian InBev, who decided to shut down the experimental plots, again dooming Columbia back to gather dust anonymously in the USDA Germplasm Repository (where hop germplasm is catalogued and stored).

Indie Hops heard the story and shouted from the Hoptops: Set Columbia Free! We took an interest in the unsung Fuggle hero instantly, asking ourselves: Why should the fate of a perfectly good US Fuggle Aroma Hop, bearing the pixie dust of the vaunted hop magic man Dr. Al, be decided by one man at Anheuser-Busch? Gayle Goschie went out to her experimental acreage and, as luck would have it, found a few hearty Columbia survivors, begging for a chance to get into the game.

We are excited to revive the abandoned but not forgotten Columbia. Goschie Farms, Oregon’s first hopyard to obtain “Salmon Safe” certification, is the perfect place to let Willamette’s unknown but potent little sister run free.

Roger Worthington
3/12/10

Hop Talk with Hopmeister Al Haunold, Part VII

Buy Local, Go Green and Save Green: The Case for Mt. Hood, Liberty, Ultra and Crystal

By now you’ve noticed a theme that goes something like this.

• Industrial brewers back in The Day (pre-1980) grew tired of paying higher prices for unreliable supplies of European noble aroma hop imports.


• The Industrials tasked Dr. Haunold, the People’s Hopmeister, to breed noble hop surrogates with a similar oil profile but with higher alpha acid, higher yields, and superior disease resistance.


• Dr. Haunold delivered, and then some. He delivered, but it turned out the Industrials, after driving the research and breeding, wound up seldom utilizing the new and improved noble “mimics,” as in the late 1970s they began trending away from aromatic lagers and pilseners and towards super alpha varieties for bittering only.


• The craft breweries came along in the mid 1980s and began taking a greater interest in the noble aroma mimic “cast offs’ for uniquely American style pale ales.


• Many crafties, however, continued to be seduced by the mystique and aura of European, Old World hops (Saazer, Tettnanger, Hallertau Mittelfrueh). They were willing to pay more, as securing ginormous supplies from afar was not a major concern for smaller, start-up brewers.


• In recent years, the dollar has weakened against the Euro, which has resulted in higher prices for European hop imports. Meanwhile, overall annual hop acreage in Oregon has dropped significantly in the past decade.


• Yours Truly then ends up ranting that it doesn’t make sense to pay more for low yielding and arguably inferior (well, different) hops just because of a perceived marketing boost. Form over substance! Status. Hype. Yours Truly’s head then threatens to explode when you fold in the fact that buying Euro puts Oregon farmers out of work and puts more greenhouse gasses into the atmosphere. (Quick, you’re a brewer in San Diego. What’s greener: buying hops from Hubbard, Oregon or Mainburg, Germany?)

Here we go again.

We’ve already shown that Sterling and Santiam are darn good substitutes for Czech Saazer and German Tettnanger, respectively. For many of the same reasons, the same holds true for Mt. Hood, Liberty, Ultra and Liberty, all excellent replacements for Hallertau Mittlefrueh, another august noble aroma from Old Bavaria. How old? The literature says Hallertau hops began gracing Bavarian gardens in 736 AD and sanctifying brews in about 1100.

Bigger, Better, Stronger

Dr. Haunold released all four of the U.S. mimics of Hallertauer mf between 1990 and 1993 (the “mf” refers to the “medium early’ maturation date, circa late August in Germany). For each of the above named varieties, the yields in the US are much higher. The US varieties have higher alpha acid percentages (except for Crystal). The oil profiles are comparable. The comparative risk of crop-devastating diseases, pests or climactic “acts of god” for US varieties is far lower – summer hailstorms in the German Hallertau region are not freak occurrences.

Each, with the exception of Crystal, found favor with the Industrials (viz, Anheuser Busch, Strohs, Coors, Labbats, Modelo), largely because Al boosted the alpha juice. Crystal’s alpha, however, stayed even with it’s land race progenitor at around 3-5%, and the Industrials rejected it. Al was ready to toss Crystal and would have but for the lobbying of a single hop merchant who thought the burgeoning crafties would like its aroma and he convinced Al to release it.

Al is particularly fond of Mt. Hood, which is a ½ sister of Ultra, Liberty and Crystal. It’s parentage is as follows: 2/3 Hallertauer mf, 1/6 Early Green (a UK hop that came to the US in the early 1930s and faded away with little fanfare), and 1/6 unknown German aroma male. Mt. Hood, as well as its half-sisters, are triploid cultivars, which, Al explains, means that it tends to be vigorous, higher yielding, and nearly seedless, which is a bonus for hop happy craft brewers.

The Valley is Hotter

Mt. Hood is not an early maturing hop like its Bavarian blood mother, probably on account of the differences in terroir. Summers in the Willamette Valley, with its South-North mountain ranges, tend to be much hotter and drier than the Hallertau region in Germany, which is nestled at the base of an East-West mountain chain. Mt. Hoods mature around August 27th, while the German noble mother is primed for harvest around August 25th in the Fatherland.

Take a peak at the analytics. German grown Hallertau mf is poor yielding, low alpha (3-5%), low cohumulone (20), low total oil (0.8 ml/100g), low myrcene (40), high H/C ratio (3.4), has a trace of farnesene and stores fairly to poorly. Oregon-grown Mt. Hood, by contrast, has excellent yield, higher alpha (5-7%), slightly higher cohumulone (23), twice the total oils (1.6), a lower H/C ratio (23) and stores much better.

Flavor and aroma? They are nearly super-imposable. Mount Hood: “refined, spicy aroma and clean bittering.” Hallertau mf: “mild spicy and pleasant.” Liberty: “spicy, mild, resiny, flowery.” Of course, neither Al, nor this budding hopster, would presume to be the ultimate arbiter on taste.

How about overall US consumption? Here’s where I scratch my head. It appears a few crafties continue to be willing to pay more for the mystique. In 2009, German grown Hallertau mf imported to the US ranked 17th (34,123 lbs). The US grown cultivars ranked as follows: 9th, Crystal (65,631 lbs); 20th, Mt. Hood (32,148 lbs); and 83rd out of 88, almost dead last, Ultra (250 lbs).

Missing the Boat

“They’re missing the boat,” concluded Al, when I read to him the rankings. “Mt. Hood is a superb aroma hop. I don’t understand why it doesn’t rank higher among craft brewers. Of the four Hallertau hops we bred for US production, Mt. Hood was my favorite. The flavor and aroma are excellent. High yields. Good oils. Locally grown.”

Hmmm. Why would some crafties want to spend more for German grown hops? Even if it means a bigger carbon footprint, a less reliable supply, and putting Oregon hop farmers out of work? Perhaps it’s all about the grand experience of boarding a plane to Munich in the late summer ostensibly to inspect the hop harvest. Hey, we got beerfests in the Northwest, too!

Finally, consider this. Aroma hops grow and mature differently than super alphas. They need more care, and thus their price is higher. The plots are smaller. An investment in Oregon hop farmers will help secure a diverse, reliable, sustainable, and quality pipeline in the future.

Roger Worthington
2/26/10

Hop History with Dr. Al Haunold, Part VI

Saazer vs Sterling: Do You Want Sizzle or Steak?

Saazer is a land race, noble aroma hop whose “Old Europe” mystique may overshadow a few telling flaws. It’s a low total oil, low alpha acid, low co-humulone classic hop renowned for its spicy and herbal flavors. Over the last 700 years, Saazer hops have survived wars, famine, invasions, Nazis and Communist collective farming in the tiny town of Zatec (formerly Saaz), in what’s today the Czech Republic, about 50 miles south of Dresden, Germany.

In 2009, Saazer (Cz) ranked as the 7th most used hop in the Brewers Association 2009 hop usage poll, just behind it’s more robust US offshoot, Sterling. Sterling, as we’ll see, may not carry the mystique of a land race Euro hop (think castles, coats-of-arms, Oompah bands), but US farmers and craft brewers love it.

The Wages of Communism

Saazer hops have been beset by unsteady availability and small yields. The acreage has not expanded in decades (centuries?) and the yields by US standards have been dramatically low, which of course has helped push up its price. It was the uncertain supply and wild price fluctuations that prompted US brewers back in the early 1980s to grow Czech Saaz in the U.S. At the time, the walls of Communism were beginning to crack and the Czech people were poised to embrace the promise of capitalism.

A prominent US brewer began growing Czech Saaz in Northern Idaho in the 1980s on a farm near the Canadian border (aka, “the Boundary Farm”), which was owned by Anheuser Busch. The latitude of the Boundary Farm was similar to the Saazer region but the former’s growing season was a tad shorter. Dr. Cal Skotland, a plant pathologist stationed at Prosser, WA found and destroyed the Prunus Necrotic Ringspot Virus in the original planting stock he got from Czechoslovakia This virus, commonly found in many older hop cultivars around the world, was probably retarding the yield of the hop back in its homeland as well as reducing its alpha acids potential, but went unheeded under a see-no-evil Communist regime.

So, in the late 1980s, the stage was set. Noble aroma? Check. Low yield in it’s Bohemian homeland? Check. Low alpha acid? Check. Low oil? Check. Throw in the Ringspot Necrotic Ringspot virus with a gathering threat of the Apple Mosaic Virus and you have all the elements of the kind of perfect hop storm that our very own Dr. Al Haunold was put on this Earth to clean up, amp up, oil up, and let her rip.

Purging the Rootstock

Al obtained virus free clones in 1990 from the Washington Experiment Station at Prosser, and immediately set to work cooking up a new cultivar. His mission: higher yield, more alpha, similar storage potential, disease resistance and a compatible oil profile.

All very good, kind sir, but wait a second. The rootstock was infected? This budding hopster was still hung up on the virus thing.

RGW: “Do you mean to tell me the noble Saazer directly from it’s idyllic birthplace was chronically infected? And that’s probably why the yields – then and now – have been so puny? Why didn’t your colleagues back East get mad as hell and knock those viral bastards out? Good lord! Didn’t the virus skunk up the beer?”

Al, being Al, of steady hand and disciplined demeanor, first calmed me down. “Viruses are not uncommon,” he assured. “Usually in about 10 to 15 years the rootstock will get infected with mechanically transmitted viruses, such as the Prunus Necrotic Ringspot virus. Roots can get contaminated when machinery moves from one hop yard to another without first being cleaned. Workers can also act as hosts if they labor in multiple yards without cleaning up first. That’s why it pays for farmers to take every precaution – steamcleaning machinery, vigorous hand washing, targeting pathogens by hand, etc -- all of which are par for the course in the Valley.”

He continued. “This is also why scientists need to constantly monitor and why growers should check their rootstock before planting. Why did my colleagues in Czechoslavakia send us virus-infected Saazer during the good glasnost times of the 1980s? I don’t know, maybe that’s all they had. The virus detection kit was certainly available in the 1970s. Detection wasn’t the problem – it was the solution. Massive acreage of infected hops would have to have been sacrificed. It takes 2 to 3 years to bring in a healthy crop, so all of that investment would’ve been lost.”

“At the same time,” Al mused, “it was a centrally planned government that didn’t readily admit to flaws or imperfections. Maybe nobody wanted to be the one to admit that the fruit of their almighty Communist labor was infected.”

Building a Bigger & Bolder Saaz Offspring

Al decided to cross the virus-free Czech Saaz female with a vigorous male plant that had Cascade and German aroma parentage with a smattering of higher alpha potential from Brewer’s Gold. His vision was to design a lush growing hop plant that would fill in the spaces between plants in each row, so it would look like a solid green wall with plenty of side-arms and lots of cones, in contrast to the sparse cone set normally obtained with Saaz plants.

“Czech Saaz have puny sidearms with short secondary and tertiary branching,” he noted grimly. “The cone volume is weak, about 20 per sidearm. We wanted longer sidearms with 30 to 50 or more cones on average. Also, Saaz cones tend to be light, brittle and smallish. We wanted something more substantial.”Done. Al bred a robust cultivar whose parentage was ½ Saazer, ¼ Cascade, 1/8th German aroma, plus a smidgen of Brewers Gold, Early Green and more mystery hop. The yields shot up about 80% (4 bales, or about 800 lbs per acre on average in Czech hop yards vs. 8 - 10 bales, or 1600 to 2000 lbs per acre, in the Valley). Alpha acid edged up from 3-4% to 6-8%, while co-humulone, one of the major alpha acids fractions stayed in the expected Saazer range. Total oil pumped up from .6 to 1.3 ml/100g, while farnesene, the characteristic Saazer hop oil component, stayed within the expected 11 – 15% range.

Meanwhile, Al’s creation retained the ostensibly ignominious title as a “poor keeper.” Al explains. “Then, as now, alpha acid retention tends to dominate the conversation particularly with super-alpha hops destined for extract production. A ‘poor keeper’ is not desirable for making hop extracts but is not a particularly bad thing with aroma hops, of course with certain limitations. For aroma hops, it’s probably desirable to be a ‘relatively poor keeper.’ Oils, as well as the acids, oxidize relatively quickly. During the beer making process, the oils break down into dozens of new compounds which,” our master of precision noted with a twinge of frustration, “by some mysterious process impart the flavor and aroma that we like.”

The Crown Sterling

“I decided to name it Sterling to keep with the currency theme. Word play with Gold had been exhausted but I wanted to suggest a solid, reliable standard, like the pound sterling. Thankfully the Brits didn’t convert their currency over to the Euro.”

Al established a four acre plot in the Valley in 1991. At around that time, Coors took an interest. The details are sketchy, but after it’s initial romance with Sterling, Coors broke it off in a few short years. Another source, not Al, who retired from the USDA in 1995, advised me that a farmer in Washington hijacked a few experimental Sterling-related rhizomes, planted them before they were ready, and harvested the cones too early before its oils fully flourished.

The net result was Coors soured on the imposter, which wasn’t a bad thing, since the crafties thereafter discovered Sterling when it was finally released in 1999 by Al’s successor, Dr. John Henning. The crafties, we know, have been hopping up their brews ever since, including Deschutes, which showcases Sterling in my favorite brew, Green Lakes Organic Ale, the brainchild of Ueber Brewer Larry Sidor.

Now you might think that an eight year lag between a promising cross and it’s public release speaks of pokiness. You’d be wrong, according to Al, a hard charging man who by no means suffers dilly-dallying gladly. It takes time to get it right. For example, he teaches, a farmer cannot rush into harvesting Sterling. It cannot be plucked before it’s time. If he does, the brewer is not likely to get the desirable oil profile or its characteristic citrusy flavor and most likely not the full alpha acids potential.

The Hop Whisperer

How does a farmer know when it’s time to pick Sterling (or other US aromas, for that matter)? Is it simply a matter of analytic testing? Or, like those warthogs who can sniff out a truffle under two feet of mud, does one instead need a sensitive snout, a delicate touch and an acute ear? For Al Haunold, it’s all about the personal touch.

“Aromas are not super alphas,” says Al, emphatically. “If you have 400 acres of Magnum, but only 4 acres of Sterling, you can’t let the economics of harvesting the alpha crop drive the harvest of the aromas. Aromas need more time. The oil has to develop.”

How does one know if the Sterling aroma hop is ready? This is the kind of question the answer to which separates the book smart from the hopyard-hardened. “You break out your magnifying glass and you pick apart a cone. Is the lupulin gland an inverted cup and pale in color? Then it’s not ready. The cup [i.e. resin gland] must runneth over— plump, full, rich and yellow. The sprig [the central axis of the cone] – if it splits easily, she’s not ready. When you rub the cone, does it squeak or rustle? It’s not ready if it doesn’t rustle.”

“Agronomics are important. It costs money to clean the picking equipment between varieties. It’s more efficient to pick everything at once, even if grown at different locations. But aromas don’t respect labor and time charts. Factory farming high alpha and artisan aroma hops just don’t mix.”

Well said, Al. And thanks for the reminder to take the time now and then to stop and listen to aroma hop wunderkinds like Sterling.

Roger Worthington
2/17/10

Hop History With Dr. Haunold, Part V.

Perle: Is it an Alpha Hop? An Aroma hop? Or Something In Between?

The Germans, to this day, insist Perle (pronounced Purr-lay) is an aroma hop. When grown in Germany, the alpha acid content is a reliable 7 - 8% -- not exactly the subtle levels of an esteemed Hallertauer mf, which hover below 5%. That disparity, however, as a matter of historical record never stopped German hop merchants on the hunt for premium prices from suggesting a mild Hallertau “infusion.”

Not until, that is, they were busted in the late 1970s by a scientist who, at an international meeting, stood up and said, “Wait a minute you bearded Bavarian boys in lederhosen, this hop you call Perle quacks, waddles and paddles like a Northern Brewer. Pray tell, what’s in it?” For years the Germans resisted disclosing the pedigree, vainly trying to keep the lid on the truth as long as possible, during which time they could happily exploit the alleged Hallertau lineage.

Finally, in 1978, the Germans gave up the goose and admitted their beloved Perle was actually the progeny of a Northern Brewer crossed with a male of unknown pedigree (I guess it could have Hallertau bloodlines). As hopworld “dust-ups” go, this was big – big enough to draw out the young Dr. Haunold, our very own People’s Hopmeister and delightful stickler for the truth.

Trust, but Verify

Al recalls that during the 1960s and 1970s the Germans jealously guarded their rhizomes like the proverbial rich ugly old maid with her silver spoons. But, he noted, the Germans wanted something he had just cooked up: Galena and Nugget. “So we made a trade. But I forced them to confirm that their Perle rhizomes were indeed the offspring of Northern Brewer and an undisclosed male parent. I was skeptical about their boast that Perle belonged in the vaunted noble family, so I did some testing.”

In 1980, Al propagated a plot near Corvallis, harvested same and tested it. The alpha of the German grown Perle hovered around 8%, but the alpha in the Oregon grown cones shot up to 11%, with some tests ringing the bell at 12% or slightly higher. Al and his chemists had spent years evaluating “noble aroma hops” in order to figure out their mystique so he knew a little about the major quality components that traditional brewers expected from these esteemed, boutique hops for which they had unflinchingly paid premium prices.

But what made the Oregon- grown Perle richer in alpha acids? It’s all terroir, baby. The answer, to this day, remains something of a mystery, but if Al were to speculate --speculation being a rank and vulgar practice of histrionic lawyers and pseudo-scientists, -- the good hopmeister would offer the following.

Size Does Matter

Oregon’s hop yards line up with the 45th Northern Parallel, while the German yards are further north on the 48th Latitude. As a rule of thumb, the closer a hop vine is to the equator, all other things being equal (ceterus paribus!), the higher the acid in the cone (as a % of weight). Added to which, size does matter: the smaller the cone, the bigger the alpha juice jolt (your basic inverse relationship). Oregon Perle cones were generally smaller than their German grown sisters, but probably due to a confluence of agronomic, water supply, soil quality and climactic factors, the Oregon yields tended to be higher. So there – rank, raw, crude, unwholesome speculation.

The question you have to be asking by now is, OK, how does any of this affect the price of hops in Hubbard, Oregon? Here’s the deal. Let’s say you’re a brewer. Your recipe calls for Northern Brewer. We suggest you consider Perle. Why? Oregon - grown Perle has higher yields than Northern Brewer. Indeed, the main driver of N. Brewer in the States for years was Anchor Steam Brewery, but few growers wanted to hassle with it since the yields were so low, in part because the hop was infected with several viruses.

Yields of US grown Perle (mostly virus-free) are reliably between 1,400 and 1,600 pounds. Both are touted for their “minty” or “evergreen” flavor, but Perle has higher alpha, and stores quite well – as Al puts it, “Perle is a good keeper.

Think Globally, Buy Hops Locally

If you’re vacillating between US Perle and Germany Perle, consider these factors. The US - grown Perle has much higher yields and probably more reliable (Verticillium wilt is not the scourge here that it is there).You will get 20% more alpha. You will be keeping US growers alive. Buying locally will also save you money, especially today in view of the strong Euro and weak dollar. And besides, why reward the Germans for perpetuating the myth that their Perle has Hallertau bloodlines, a ruse designed to jack up both the mystique and the price?

Finally, let’s say you want to examine those lovely cones on the vine dangling in the summer breeze. Are you going to book a flight to Munich? With Oregon - grown Perle, which matures earlier than most sister hop varieties in the Valley, you can walk the Salmon - Safe certified hop yards at the Coleman farms like a kid in the candy store. “I’ll take a bale of this, two bales of that…”

Unlike the cultivars we’ve discussed to date, Al did not breed a new Perle derivative. He was simply the first to pry a few rhizomes from the Germans and plant them in Oregon, where in fits and starts they’ve flourished ever since. In the 2009 BA Hop Usage survey, brewers surprisingly continued to buy more German Perle than US Perle (29,550 lbs vs. 21,965 lbs, respectively).

Indie Hops will plant Perle on the Coleman Farms near St. Paul, Oregon, in 2010 with our baby harvest in 2011. We’re excited to get brewer feedback as, over time, who knows exactly what exciting flavors and aromas await. Al’s expertise stops when the hops hit the boil. For that, we defer to the nose and tongue of the brewer.

RGW
Feb. 12, 2010

Hop History with Dr. Haunold, Part IV

Santiam, US Tettnanger, Fuggles: Will the Real Tettnanger Please Stand Up?

Many of you may be buying “US Tettnanger” with the belief that you’re getting a hop that carries the same oil, aroma and flavor profile as its noble namesake from Germany.

But you’d be wrong. The so-called “US Tettnanger,” according to Dr. Al Haunold, is actually Britain-born Fuggles. Al tried to correct the misnomer back in the late 1980s, but his call for truth in advertising and science fell on deaf and dumb ears, and the myth persists today.

Lets go back to the 1980s. Anheuser-Busch (AB) was importing German-grown Tettnanger hops, a landrace noble aroma hop which thrived in a small terroir in the Southwest region of Germany near the Lake Konstanz on the Switzerland and Austrian borders. AB wanted to free itself of dependence on Germany for Tettnanger, whose oil and alpha acids profile was similar to Saazer hops from the Czech Republic.

The German Tettnanger was an early maturing hop with lower yields and thus a relatively higher price. AB began to grow a hop in Northeast Idaho which they fobbed off as “US Tettnanger.”

Dr. Haunold propagated a small plot in Oregon and noticed a few oddities. First, Tettnang was supposed to be an early maturing hop with classic bronze and reddish coloration on the main stem near the side-arm branches. AB’s version matured slightly later and the relevant regions on the main stem were dark green.

Second, Tettnang was supposed to be high in farnesene (11%), but AB’s version was much lower (4%). Our Public Hopmeister ran the usual battery of tests and discovered that ratio of alpha to beta also did not fit the expected Tettnanger profile. Hmmm. Something’s fishy. This isn’t Tettnanger, Dr. Haunold concluded – it’s actually Fuggles.

At a conference in the mid 1980s, Al raised the discrepancy with an AB apparatchik, who promptly shut him down. Al recalls the exchange: “I pointed out from the agronomics and chemistry that a mistake had been made – it would be like calling a Chardonnay grape a Pinot noir. They told me they were going to continue to use the Tettnanger appellation anyway and I shouldn’t worry about it.”

Al wasn’t going to “worry” about it. Instead, he’d gotten busy making the real deal. In the early 1980s he crossed a female Tettnanger with a male that consisted of ½ Cascade and fractions of Brewers Gold and Early Green (an early and little known English aroma variety). His goal was to closely mimic Tettnanger, which he noted had a similar profile of Saazer – “Saazer and Tettnanger are nearly the same.”

Al had just put the finishing touches on his four Hallertauer Mittelfrueh progeny: Liberty, Mt. Hood, Crystal and Ultra. “I wanted to focus on the farnesene levels and develop a Tettnanger/Saaz mimic that would produce much higher yields,” noting that in Germany typical yields in the Tettnang region were around 5 - 6 bales (about 1200 lbs) per acre, well below the desired output of about 8 - 10 bales, a threshold level above which growers could actually earn a profit. .

Dr. Haunold met his markers in 1997 with the public release of “Santiam,” an aroma hop which he named after the nearby river which flowed from the Cascades mountains into the Willamette River. Santiam’s chemistry was close to Tettnanger, explained Dr. Haunold, “with an added bonus. Santiam had a slightly higher alpha content than Tettnanger [5 to 7% vs 4 to 5%], a similar cohumulone content [21 to 24], and much higher yields. From an aroma standpoint, it’s a very good substitute for Saazer and Tettnang. The big difference is price – Santiam can be grown economically in the US and sold for far less than imports, especially today when the dollar is so weak against the Euro.”

Unfortunately, today, very few hop merchants are contracting with US growers to plant Santiam. According to the BA survey of hop usage in 2009, brewers used only 249 pounds of Santiam, compared to 77,500 pounds for Saaz (CZ) and 3,230 pounds for Tettnanger (GR). It looks like the bigger crafties (think Boston Brewing) are content paying more for European imports on the image-driven premise, oddly enough, that Euro hops carry more panache than American varieties.

Meanwhile, the great bait ‘n switch continues. According to the BA survey, in 2009 crafties used 17,921 pounds of hops that were erroneously labeled as “US Tettnang,” which we’ve known since the mid 1980s are actually Fuggles. Note to Self: At Indie Hops, we need to remember to advertise “US Tettnanger” as really “Fuggles.”

Is Dr. Haunold upset about the perpetuation of this… er… fraud? Not exactly. He chalks up the misnomer to “benign neglect” but notes that were he a German grower from the Tettnang region he’d have a bone to pick. “That appellation is worth a lot of money – Tettnang. Fuggles is a great hop, but it doesn’t carry the same weight as Tettnang. Why they don’t pursue legal action to protect the Tettnang name is beyond me.”

So there you are. Why spend more for European Saaz and Tettnang hops when you can buy Santiam, which is nearly indistinguishable, has slightly more alpha and it can be grown locally? Indie Hops will put substantial acreage of Salmon-Safe Santiam in production this year with our Oregon farmers (the original test plots for Santiam were located in the former John I. Haas “Alluvial” hop yards which are now part of the Coleman farms).

We are pleased to help revive this unsung aroma hop hero --let the Santiam run free!

RGW
Feb 10, 2010

Part III: Dr. Al Haunold Hop History

Alpha Obsession: Origins of the Race for More Bittering “Juice”

Today it’s well known that alpha, or “juice,” is a form of hop currency. In an industry run more and more by bean counters who are eager to sacrifice a bit of quality to make a few more pennies, when it comes to choosing hops, the juice content of a hop is more often than not the deciding factor. Put simply, the more a processor can extract from a single cone , the fewer cones he has to buy.

Where did this obsession with alpha acids begin? To answer that, I spoke to Dr. Haunold, who it turns out was on the front lines in the race for more alpha. The race began in the early 1960s with a challenge that resulted in a hunch that yielded a breakthrough that the growers hated so much they threatened to suppress it with legal action. Oh my! Read on.

Early 1960s: Pride of Ringwood Rules

In the early 1960’s, when it came to high alpha acid, a hop from Australia called “Pride of Ringwood”(PoR) ruled. It sported a hefty 11% juice content, the high-water mark for commercially available bittering hops worldwide. PoR, however, did not thrive in the US. Instead, we (especially in Oregon) relied on the UK-born Bullion and Brewer’s Gold, which weighed in around 10% alpha. One problem with the UK B&B is they didn’t store well, losing as much as 50% of their juice in 4-5 months of unrefrigerated storage.

In the mid 1960’s, hop processors began to experiment with extracting the acids from hops. They saw the future, and the future was bitter syrup served up in air tight steel canisters. A Canadian chemist, Dr. Lloyd Rigby, had years earlier discovered that alpha acid resin actually had three major components: humulone, cohumulone and adhumulone, which made up about 10 or 11 of the total weight of a dried hop cone (e.g, the B&B sisters).

Dr. Rigby seized on the juice craze. He forecasted that each percent of additional juice was worth millions, so it was well worth trying to engineer new hops with a higher alpha content. John I. Haas hired Dr. Rigby to develop a hop extraction plant in Yakima. Dr. Al Haunold met Dr. Rigby in the late 1960s, and the former challenged the “new kid on the block” to breed a new hop that pushed the alpha envelope.

“I accepted the challenge,” recalled Al, who had just joined the USDA as hop geneticist in 1965. At the time, the predominant all-purpose hop in the Pacific Northwest was Cluster, which stored well (refrigeration was uncommon in those days), carried a low price, and depending on the year and the test often rang the juice bell at close to 8 %, but was reputed to have an undesirable “black currant” aroma. The growers generally were content with Cluster.

At the time, the hop cognoscenti ordained that no hop could exceed 11-12%. They also prophesied that no high alpha could be stored more than a few months since juiced up hops were branded as “poor keepers.” Juiced up hops were also expected to have high co-humulone content (above 35 %).

Gold Fever

Undaunted, Dr. Haunold, driven by the new orthodoxy that each 1% percent alpha was a “gold mine,” began tinkering appropriately enough with hops related to Brewers Gold (BG). He started with a female BG-derived seedling that he crossed with a male (which had a sprig of BG and a sprinkle of German aroma hops in its genetic blood). “You never know for certain in science what will work, but I had a hunch that we’d strike gold with this parentage,” said Dr. Haunold.

He started in the early 1970s with 400 seedlings of the above mentioned cross and by 1976 had narrowed the lot down to 36 thriving seedlings selections. Dr. Haunold began growing the “super alpha” selections in a few replicated plots near Corvallis. Most selections showed promise for mildew resistance and above average alpha. The cones were compact, easy to pick, clean, and they dried and stored well – in a word, they were “gorgeous.”

Al knew he had the tiger by the tail when his chemist tested a few cones, read the results and suspected that somebody had “doctored the numbers,” as the alpha acid content weighed in at a scorching 13-14.5%! About 50% more juice per cone! A new world record!

Noting the parentage and the shape of the big bold cone, Al decided to name his brainchild “Nugget.” Now emboldened, our young over-achiever was ready to start growing Nugget in test plots in Idaho, California and Washington.

But a funny thing happened on the way to more juice. The Washington hop farmers grabbed their pitchforks and torches and fought back, sort of like blacksmiths shouting down the new gas-powered Iron Horses. The Washington growers were satisfied with Cluster (up to 8% alpha). A survey at the time showed that of 10 “priorities” , developing higher alpha acid hops ranked 9th, just above the bottom.

Too Good to be True

One can understand the grower’s protest. In the quest for higher juice, brewers and hop processors, who by then had figured out how to hop flowers to alpha juice, both demanded super alpha varieties. The more juice they could suck out, the fewer cones they needed, which meant that fewer acres needed to be planted. They of course did not pay extra for each percent of alpha, since they bought the cones by the pound. The Washington growers retaliated by closing their the borders to the Cluster-bustin’ Nugget, even for testing.

However, Dr. Rigby – recall, he’s the hop chemist who John I Haas hired as their Master Extractor – said “wait a minute, Nugget sounds like the Holy Grail, I want some!” So he arranged to have a few acres of the lupulinona non grata Nugget grown on J.I. Hass’ property. To be sure, our budding hopmeister certainly wasn’t a troublemaker – far from it. He was surprised by the protest. At the time, USDA hop scientists like Al under a “tristate agreement,” which included Washington, Oregon and Idaho, had a perfect right if not duty to test and evaluate hop selections in these key hop states. To prevent any one state from gaining an undue growing advantage, all 36 of the most promising selections were provided to each state under strict guidelines.

Nonetheless, the Washington Hop Commission and some of its grower members were outraged. They threatened legal action. That didn’t work. Then they threatened to order the local police to trample onto Haas’ private property and physically uproot the blacklisted Nugget rhizomes.

Dr. Rigby responded to the threats by promptly erecting a 10 foot high Cyclone fence around his precious crop and installing motion sensors and flood lights – everything short of pit bulls, claymore mines and armed Pinkerton agents. Over my dead hop! Across this line, you will not cross!

The Patience of a Public Servant

In the end, the bluff was called and Dr. Rigby nursed his Nuggets. However, because of political pressure, Dr. Haunold did not release Nugget to the public until late 1981 , even though it had been ready to roll since about 1978. Why? “I was a public servant,” said Dr. Haunold modestly. “Since a very loud fraction of public clearly did not want the fruits of my labor, I just waited until the time was right.”

But wouldn’t Nugget serve the public? I mean, this was your major opus, your brainchild, your baby? Didn’t you want to unleash your masterpiece? “No,” he replied with typical matter-of-factness. “The Hop Research Council and the Hop Commissions of several states asked me to delay release for a few years because the growers felt threatened. End of story.”

During those three years between 1978 and 1981, while Al was waiting, his
coworker in Idaho (Dr. Bob Romanko), was putting the finishing touches on his own Super Alpha pet hop. Dr. Romanko had been experimenting with a new cultivar that came to be known as “Galena.”

Suddenly, in 1980, a world-wide hop shortage struck, and the need for US grown bittering hops just ratcheted upward, as the price for alpha extract instantly quadrupled. Unlike Al, who answered to all three states, Romanko answered only Idaho’s hop commission, which basically said “bring it on!” In early 1981, the Idaho Agricultural Experiment Station at Parma released Galena to the public. Galena’s juice came in just under Nugget’s, at 12% by weight.

1980 Hop Shortage: Brewers Scramble as Alpha Spikes

The world-wide shortage of alpha acids following the 1980 harvest had brewers scrambling to obtain additional alpha, at any price. This affected especially those brewers who had not entered into forward contracts and thus had to pay as much as 11 dollars for a single pound of hops, an unheard of price at the time. Farmers did not get rich since they had long-term contracts and had to deliver at the lower contracted prices. The few farmers who had excess production (above the contracted prices) could, however, sell their non-contracted “spot hops” to the highest bidder. And bid high the brewers most certainly did.

Hop dealers now offered ever increasing prices for forward contracts of high-alpha hops, with premiums of up to 25 cents for each quarter percent alpha above 9%. Growers could make more in premiums than they could get just for a pound of hops with Galena and Nugget. Dr. Haunold responded by launching a massive Nugget propagation program and established multi-acre test plots in Oregon, Washington and Idaho, this time, without having to duck pitchforks or rotten tomatoes.

Galena rootstock was freely available at that time and Washington growers stampeded to get their hands on available root stock despite a quarantine of importing non-inspected rootstock into the state. Alpha was suddenly all the rage and its emergent value changed the way hops were priced.

Al recalls that one Oregon grower told him that he had forward contracted at the alpha premiums for 4 years starting in 1982. By early 1984, however, high alpha hops had flooded the market and the price began to slide. The dealer went back to the grower and offered to buy back their high priced contracts for 50 cents on the dollar, provided the grower would pull out his alpha plots that were contracted out for a few more years.

According to Al, the grower accommodated, even though it meant he’d be eating major labor costs. The grower had just finished stringing on the Friday before the deal was cut on a Monday; on that same day the grower ordered his foreman to go back and take the strings down as they were no longer going to be growing what they had contracted for.

What have I wrought?

Dr. Haunold looks back on those days with a mixture of pride, surprise, and perhaps even a tinge of regret. “I guess I opened the flood gates. The race for higher alpha acid hasn’t abated. We were told back in the early 1980’s after my Nugget that ‘no way’ can you breed a hop with more than 14 or perhaps 15% alpha. Now, there’s new hops juiced to the gills at over 18%, both in the US as well as in some other hop growing areas around the world. ”

“I didn’t want to make a fuss about not being able to release Nugget earlier. The farmers, it turns out, were absolutely right to be worried. The big brewers today can get the same amounts of alpha at very reasonable prices from one-third less acreage. Farmers back then and still for the most part today get paid by the bale, not alpha points. I can see why they’d resist, especially today when it seems like the alpha craze is retarding the growth and variety of aroma hops.”

Roger Worthington
1/26/2010