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

Do Your Pellets Pack Enough Punch? Field Testing from Pizza Port Carlsbad

I dropped by Pizza Port in Carlsbad, California this week to conduct a little impromptu field research with award-winning master brewer Jeff Bagby. The mission: compare Indie Hops’ type 90 pellets with that of the competition.

As reported, we’ve designed a state of the art pellet mill that’s sized and scaled to meet the needs of craft brewers. We’ve increased the average particle size of the grist and lowered the temperature at the pellet die in order to minimize damage to the lupulin glans, home of the rich and aromatic hop oils. We designed the mill with the goal of converting the form of the noble flower without excessively oxidizing the oils.

Pizza Port is near and dear to me. My wife and I have coached our kids for many years in basketball and soccer, respectively, and we wouldn’t think of holding our team “banquet” anywhere but their brewpub in San Clemente. The adults get to drink great craft beer (including outrageously awesome guest taps) and the kids get to run amok with all the root beer they can guzzle

At the 2009 GABF, Jeff won an amazing seven medals and Pizza Port Carlsbad was awarded the Large Brewpub and Large Brewpub Brewer of the Year. Not only does Jeff have the accolades, he’s also an incredibly polite, humble and decent guy who clearly loves his work.

Despite being pulled in about 12 different directions on a typically helter skelter brewing day, Jeff was kind enough to help me conduct a “field experiment” of sorts. I brought with me ice cold samples of our 2009 harvest, Oregon-grown Centennial and Liberty pellets. From Pizza Port’s cold storage, Jeff scooped up a jarful of pellets from the same harvest and variety, both from another supplier.

And thus began the adventure.

Does Size Matter?

The first noticeable difference was the diameter of the respective pellets. Our pellet diameter was ¼ inch; the other’s was 1/8. When we opted for a bigger diameter, our theory was that the less grist exposed to heat during pelleting, the less oxidation of volatile oils. As we’ve come to learn, the bigger the better.

Jeff broke up the pellets. IH’s pellet, he noticed, had a gummier, oilier feel and did not deconstruct into a fine powder. After concentrated finger work, the pellet broke up into small clumps. The other pellet was a tad harder, and the grind was far finer.

The Verdict: “The IH pellet feels stickier, gummier, and fresher. You can feel the oiliness.”

The Solution Dilution

Jeff then weighed out equal amounts of the respective hops and dumped them into pints of hot water. Both broke apart and dispersed at about the same rate. The IH pellets seemed to be more buoyant. They behaved, as Jeff observed, more like leafs from a flower, suspending longer and floating at the top. After a few minutes of settling, the other hop appeared to increase its density at the bottom of the pint a little more rapidly.

The Verdict: “The IH hop tends to resemble a whole flower when it hits the hot water. It’s a bit more buoyant, and there’s less water separation.”

The Exploding Flower Factor

The density of the hop-shake was substantially different. IH’s pellets blossomed into a thicker solution that resembled a creamy-clumpy milkshake. You could literally float a quarter on top of the IH “shake.” The other’s hop solution was thinner.

I had heard that the original sizing of the particles and circumference of the pellet was driven by the notion that a thinner solution would be easier to wash down the drain after the wort was sent to the heat exchanger. Jeff theorized that the thickness of the IH hops would not pose any sort of clogging problem. “We drain our hop residue into the public sewer system, which I’m sure can easily accommodate a coarser hop grind.”

The Verdict: “The Indie Hops pellets were like a thick Texas chili; the other was more like pea soup.”

What about the aroma?

Finally, the aroma. First, a disclosure. Jeff has been a brewer for over 10 years and he has been using The Other Guy’s Centennial pellets for at least that long. He is accustomed its aroma and uses their pellets in his award-winning Shark Bite, a hopped up IPA which is the beer I usually order when I bring my family to Pizza Port up the road in San Clemente. The point: Jeff is both accustomed to this hop and obviously satisfied with it.

Now then. Jeff noted that The Other Guy’s Centennial hop brew exuded a “sharp, skunkier, marijuana aroma.” The IH pellet, brew by comparison, had a “more herbal, spicy, peppery” aroma.

The Verdict: “I was amazed at the difference in aromas. Each had a distinct aroma, both nice, but the [Indie Hops brew] smelled fresher, greener. It’s incredible when you think they are the same variety harvested the same year.”

Pizza Port’s supplier of the hop in question was from Washington, but we don’t know where the hops were grown. Nor do we know exactly who pelleted said hops. The IH hops were grown on Goschie Farms in the Willamette Valley, Oregon. They were pelleted about 2 months ago at our new “patient” pelleting mill in Hubbard, Oregon, located only a few miles up the road from Goschie Farms.

Thanks Jeff, we appreciate your candid feedback. Throughout the session, I nursed a pint of Sharkbite, which featured the Other Guy’s hops. I loved it. It’s hard to imagine improving an already delightful taste, but like my partner Jim says, “The day you stop getting better is the day you start getting worse.” At Indie Hops, we aim to get it right. Brewer feedback is not only essential, it’s fun. It’s even more fun when it validates our theories about the linkage between pellet particle size, pellet surface area to volume , and pellet die temperature.

As another well respected brewer in nearby San Marcos, Tomme Arthur of Lost Abbey, recently suggested to me: if less oxidation is the Holy Grail, why not process cigar sized or even hockey puck sized pellets? Good question. We’re on it!

Roger Worthington
5/28/10

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