Showing posts with label Portland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Portland. Show all posts

April 7, 2014

From Allagash To Shipyard


A little more than two weeks ago, while the Washington Wizards were off on the west coast losing three of four critical games on their last significant road trip of the year, I spent a couple of days in Portland, Maine watching some NBDL basketball. This was the second year in a row I've taken a trip to watch D-League ball and as it turned out, Portland may have been the perfect place for me to do so. It gave me the small time atmosphere I was looking for in my five trips down to the sub-NBA level since February 2013. 

I've pointed out in this blog last week that my decision to visit Maine (and Springfield, Massachusetts before that), was a cause of some internal strife for me due to my aversion to most things New England. Lobsters, quaintness, the New England Patriots, Boston accents...just not on board with any of that. However, there was a significant ulterior motive to me stopping specifically in Portland: BEER!

Now, if there's a Portland most people associate with craft brewing, it's probably Portland, Oregon. Indeed, most beer enthusiasts consider the west coast Portland to be the cradle of the modern craft brewing industry in the United States. The rise of small brewers started there in the mid-1980s after the state of Oregon passed legislation in 1985 permitting the manufacture and sale of alcohol on the same premises. This was a very important step forward for brewpubs, who were equipped to brew and sell, but not bottle and distribute.

But Portland, Maine, wasn't far behind their left coast namesake in the last couple of decades of the twentieth century. And today the Portland I stopped in at two weeks ago has the highest number of breweries per capita in the United States. A part of this distinction is undoubtedly due to the city's small size. But an internet search for "breweries in Portland Maine" turns up a pretty good sized list. So...basketball and beer? How could I refuse to take advantage of this situation and take a little side quest to explore one of my major passions in life. 

So because it's me taking this trip, there's a lot of planning involved. I didn't want to leave my beer adventure to any sort of chance, so I took some time to map out a route that would cover the whole spectrum of the almost 30 year old beer renaissance in the Portland area. Realizing I had only about half a Saturday and most of the day Sunday to sample all I could, I tried to strike a balance between big and small, well known and unknown, and old and new. Like most things in life, my plan yielded some good things, some bad things, some disappointments and some pleasant surprises. 

For the record, I picked the largest in town (Shipyard), a pioneer (Gritty McDuff's), some place I'd never heard of (Rising Tide) and a brewery I respected but didn't think I knew enough about (Allagash). Here's what I found, in the order I found it.


Allagash Brewing Company
Generally speaking, there are three beer brewing traditions in the world: Belgian, English and German. Most brewers in the United States brew in either the English (ales fermented and conditioned in warmer temperatures using top fermenting yeast) or German (lagers fermented and conditioned in cooler conditions using bottom fermenting yeast) styles. Most craft breweries brew in the English style; mass market brewers like Miller, Coors (yes, I know those two are one company now) or Anheuser-Busch brew in the German style.

Less popular in this country is the Belgian brewing tradition, which is generally ale-based but produces a sweeter, stronger, often way more complex but less hoppy product than those in the English style. That statement is a too simplified version of the Belgian brewing style but for the purposes of this blog post, I'm declaring it good enough. I know, there are beer geeks among the dozen or so people who read my blog gnashing their teeth over the dumbed down, lambic and other unique Belgian beer styles omitting, description of a great art.

Allagash Brewing Company was founded in 1995 around the Belgian brewing tradition but today they are allowing subtle influences from other traditions or just downright experimenting with American improvements on European brewing flavors in addition to sticking true to its roots. I'd had Allagash beer before I arrived in Portland. Their flagship beer, Allagash White, a witbier or white beer, can be found around D.C. in good beer bars and I'd had a glass of Allagash Black once last fall. But I knew I hadn't explored the breadth and depth of beer they had to offer so I was eager to take a tour (the only tour I took) of their brewery and taste some more of their beer.

I've been on a lot of brewery tours in my time, more than I can count on my fingers and toes, from the very small Cooperstown Brewing Company in upstate New York to the largest single site brewery in the world in Golden, Colorado, so touring a brewery was no new thing for me. But what came across in Allagash's tour was the way they built the business and cared deeply about everything they did throughout the process. I was intrigued by the fact they introduce sugar into the beers at both the brewing and bottling stages and impressed by some of the fermentation times (six days for Allagash White but nine months (!) for their Interlude beer).

Allagash White, Saison, Curieux and Odyssey.
Following the tour we were treated to samples of White, Saison (a good, but not the best, American saison I've tasted), Curieux and Odyssey (a dark wheat aged in oak barrels) beers. All were good but the gem here for me was Curieux, a tripel ale (meaning it is fermented three times) aged in Jim Beam bourbon barrels. I've had beer aged in bourbon barrels before but I've never had one like this. Despite its strength (11% ABV), the beer doesn't taste of alcohol or even that strong. The beer is not that sweet but the notes of wood and all the good things about bourbon come through loud and clear without the alcohol aftertaste that such beers sometimes leave on the palate. It's honestly one of the best beers I've tried for the first time in a while. I now have a bottle ($17.99!) sitting in my fridge waiting for me to open it. 

The experience at Allagash was awesome. These guys really care about what they are doing and it shows. The place was packed when we visited and deservedly so. I'd hang out here once in a while myself if I could, although next time I'd make sure someone else drove so I could finish my samples. I gave the remainders of mine to my friend Mike, although rest assured he didn't get any Curieux from me. Two enthusiastic thumbs way up!



Rising Tide Brewing Company
The second stop on my mini brewing tour of Portland was Rising Tide, a place I'd never heard of before but picked out off the internet based on their webpage and what sounded like some good beers. Always dangerous, I know. I made sure we parked our car and checked into our hotel before walking the just less than a mile to Rising Tide's place so I could really sample everything I wanted here.

Unlike Allagash, which is located in a custom built brewery on the edge of Portland, Rising Tide is located in an industrial park made into a sort of strip mall for its thirsty customers. Rather than Allagash's six or so employees, Rising Tide featured only two, dutifully pouring beer for us and the rest of the customers in the place on a mid-Saturday afternoon. 

Rising Tide is an English style brewery, so traditional ales were expected and found here but they managed to go off the path a little like Allagash to create some unique brews. The sampling flight at Rising Tide features small tasters of their tap beers. I found the Ishmael copper ale to be solid but unremarkable, not something I would seek out in Portland or elsewhere. I felt the same way about the Daymark American pale ale (despite the interesting addition of local rye) and the Ursa Minor weizen stout, which when I first heard the description of a stout made from wheat really piqued my interest since that sort of inventiveness is really right up my alley.

But Rising Tide really came through for me with the last two beers I tried here. Their Atlantis beer, a black ale, was especially tasty. I generally disapprove of black ales because I think there is a disconnect between what looks like a really flavorful beer and the inevitable letdown I feel from their relative lack of complexity when drinking them. But Rising Tide's base of cherry wood smoked malt in this beer adds a ton of flavor. I'd say it's one of the best, if not the best, black ale I've had. I felt similarly, although nowhere near as strongly, about the Andromeda, a hoppy sweet beer that I found interesting.

I liked my visit to Rising Tide. I think these guys have something going here and I'd without question get some more Atlantis given the opportunity. It helped finding a New York Jets fan behind the bar, especially since I'd worn my Jets shirt deliberately to thumb my nose at the local Patriots fans. It was good to find a sympathetic soul behind the bar while drinking some good beer. Two enthusiastic thumbs up here, too.


Shipyard Brewing Company
After an hour or so at Rising Tide, it was on to brewery number three, Shipyard Brewing Company, the largest brewery in Portland. I used to love to drink Shipyard beer when I lived in Cooperstown, NY. It was one of the first domestic craft brews I remember being able to get in upstate New York. I especially loved their Old Thumper IPA beer, created from a recipe from the Ringwood Brewery in England, the same area of England that supplied the yeast for my beloved Cooperstown Brewing Company. So I arrived in Portland with a very positive impression of Shipyard and their beer. That changed quickly.

Since their founding in 1994, just one year before Allagash was born, Shipyard has grown. A lot. They have expanded their four of five signature brews into multiple variants and offshoots. They have also acquired other breweries like Sea Dog Brewing Company and have contract brewed for a number of local and regional breweries. We managed to make it into the Shipyard Brewery Store just before 5 p.m. on Saturday and sneaked on to their final tour of the day, a 15 minute or so video followed by a tasting of (seemingly) as much beer as you could drink or stomach, depending on how you view Shipyard's beer.


I've never been much impressed with breweries that use recorded videos to inform you about their beer. I think some of that works if there is someone there in person to reinforce the beer experience in a positive way. I didn't get that at Shipyard. Our "tour guide" who talked us through the beer tasting was less than reassuring. She was extremely enthusiastic, but described their beer using non-beer terminology and didn't display the kind of deep diligent knowledge that I got from Allagash and to a lesser extent, Rising Tide.

The beers we sampled at Shipyard were disappointing. We started with the Shipyard Export, which was described as a Canadian style IPA and which tasted like a sort of junior version of a good IPA; not horrible which in the early 1990s in upstate New York I probably welcomed alongside Old Thumper. But we are not in the early 1990s any more and beer brewing has evolved in this country and standards are higher. We followed the Export two beers later with their Brewer's Brown Ale, a slightly hoppier and really pretty good traditional brown ale. I usually do not care for brown ales primarily due to what I find is a watery finish. This one, if I were ever inclined to drink brown ale regularly, would be towards the top of my list.

But the rest of the beer experience at Shipyard was a bust. We sampled a Sea Dog Sunfish, a grapefruit peach wheat beer that was pretty grapefruit-y, very peachy and about as unappetizing a beer as I have ever had (keep in mind I don't like peaches before you blindly follow me on this). After the first three beers, we were permitted to try as many of the other nine taps as we wanted and I foolishly opted for the Pugsley's Signature Series Smashed Blueberry stout. I don't know who Pugsley was but this beer tasted like it was a dry stout with some IHOP blueberry syrup mixed into it. Not appealing at all. And while I acknowledged earlier I don't like peaches, I love blueberries and stout (hell, I love IHOP blueberry syrup) but I would not drink this beer again.

But the real measure of Shipyard's worth for me came in their Double ESB, a double hopped Old Thumper beer aged in bourbon barrels, much like Allagash's Curieux beer that I found so excellent just hours before. Unlike the Curieux, though, Shipyard's similar beer was excessively sweet, overly bourbon-y and it stank of and burned like alcohol. The difference between the two similar beers was astounding. It didn't help Shipyard's case that they talked this beer up to us. I think my trip to Shipyard was quite unfortunate; I left with a negative opinion of this brewery, a complete 180 from when I walked in. Two thumbs down here, I'm afraid.


Gritty McDuff's
In the late 1980s, right after I turned 21, my dad gave me a pocket guide to beer as a way to introduce me to what was becoming a burgeoning craft brewing movement in the United States that started to bring this country up to an equal footing with the rest of the world. That little book was my guide to buying beers foreign and domestic in the beer shops around my apartment in Ann Arbor and I read the pages over and over (keep in mind this was before the internet). I remember the Maine section of that book contained two breweries that served as leaders in the young American brewing movement. One of these was Geary's, a brewery founded in 1986 and still brewing today. The other was the brewpub Gritty McDuff's, founded in 1988. I knew I couldn't leave without stopping in for a couple of pints at the original Gritty's in downtown Portland.

Let me say this about Gritty McDuff's before I describe the beer I had there: I have imagined going to this place for 25 years and over that time the place has acquired a sort of mythology surrounding it in my head. I imagined a dark, dank (in a good way and yes, there is a good sort of dank), historic establishment with a proud brewing tradition and excellent beers that would make you want to stay there all night, a welcoming place to stay on a cold winter's night in Portland. I am sure this romantic vision of Gritty's affected what I am about to write about its beer.

We stopped in at Gritty's for two pints on Saturday night and another couple with brunch on Sunday morning. The beer to me was reminiscent of Shipyard, although that's probably a little bit of a disservice here: good beer for the late 1980s or early 1990s in the United States but less than good by today's standards. I imagine I would have very much enjoyed this beer 25 years ago; today it is competent but that's about it. The place also didn't live up to my imaginings. The bar didn't look old, the decorations in the place looked like St. Patrick's Day had recently come and gone and we sat on the corner of the disproportionately high bar closest to the door to the street on about a 25 degree or maybe colder night. Not warm, not historic, not welcoming. So my experience at Gritty McDuff's didn't match what I wanted and some of that is probably my fault.

I sampled the Original Pub Style, Best Bitter and Black Fly Stout and none were beers I would crave, although I thought the Black Fly was a serviceable dry stout which I would order again if I ever find myself at Gritty's. I also drank their Red Claws Ale at the Maine Red Claws game, which I thought was the best of the four beers from here that I drank. Unfortunately, the Red Claws Ale is not available at the pub. Overall, I think I was set up for failure by my own expectations. One thumbs down and one thumbs sideways here I think.

So that's it. That's the story of my beer trip to Maine. Last year I took in barbeque on my D-League trip. This year it was beer. Both trips produced some culinary losers and some unforgettable experiences. If you are ever in Portland, I suggest you stop by Allagash and Rising Tide. You won't regret it.

March 31, 2014

Sunday Matinee


I don't like New England very much. I am sure it's because I grew up there as a fresh off the boat immigrant to this country from the United Kingdom and had a series of overly aggressive history teachers who loved to tell all us students about how glorious the Revolutionary War was and how ignorant and disillusioned the British were and maybe in some cases still are. What can I say? It left a bad taste in my mouth. So when I think of quaint New England towns and villages; lobsters and clams; picture postcard perfect lighthouses like the one above just outside of Portland, Maine; and Boston sports teams, I am less than pleased with how that all makes me feel. This is not the first time I have written words like this in this blog. It might not be the last.

Despite my rant in the first paragraph of this post, a week and a half ago I decided to take a trip up to New England on my second trip to explore the NBDL, the NBA's minor league farm system of sorts. Self flagellation, maybe? My first night of the trip in Springfield, Massachusetts was fantastic, with courtside seats, a great local bar and old friends. The morning after, I packed my backpack (traveling light) and my friend Mike into my rented Dodge Avenger and headed north into what was perhaps the most New England-y of all places: Maine. I knew I'd get plenty of everything I railed against a paragraph ago, including lots of Boston sports teams. But in heading there, I finally found what I was hoping to find all along on my two D-League trips so far. And ironically the Boston sports team thing may have helped.

My vision of life in the D-League before I set out last February to find out what it might be like for the players below the NBA level was one of desperation. I imagined paper thin rosters playing in cramped outdated facilities in small towns with inventive / cheesy promotions to get fans in the door. I knew salaries in the D-League varied between the sub-teens to the mid twenties of thousands per season so I knew nobody was getting rich playing at this level. I knew a ten day contract on a call up to an NBA team could easily eclipse a player's pay for entire season in the NBDL and was therefore extremely valuable. And so what I thought I'd find would make me understand why someone would be so desperate to make it to the big leagues. I think I found most of this in Maine. But I also found something wonderful at the same time.

Best logo in the D-League hands down.
Maine's D-League franchise, the Maine Red Claws, is located in Portland, the largest city in Maine and home to about 65,000 in the city itself with a metropolitan area of a little more than 200,000. The Portland area was permanently settled in the year 1633 as a village named Casco with fishing and trading as its primary industries. Throughout its almost 400 year history, the center of settlement in the area shifted from Casco to Falmouth to, starting in 1793, what is Portland today. The area was raided and burned by native American tribes, the French and the British before the United States gained independence and things calmed down and stabilized a little. But the industry in the area remained consistent and fishing and trading (shipping) continues today in a major way in Portland.

In the 1970s, Portland experienced a population migration to the suburbs just like many other cities in America did at that time. And like many of those same formerly abandoned cities, eventually Portland's residents started to appreciate what the city had to offer and gradually people moved back downtown. Today, Portland enjoys a thriving tourist industry in addition to fishing and shipping. Apparently the city has more restaurants per capita than any other city in the United States, just recently surpassing San Francisco. This statistic speaks as much to Portland's tourist industry as it does to its small size and its growing foodie scene.

Professional basketball took a while to get to Portland. The Red Claws were awarded to the city as an expansion franchise in 2009 and started playing ball in the fall of that year for the 2009-2010 NBDL season. The team has without a doubt the best name and logo in the D-League if not in all of professional basketball in this country. In 2012, the team entered into a hybrid affiliation with the Boston Celtics, meaning the team is locally operated but has turned over control of basketball operations to the parent franchise. I don't know if this affected the fan base at all, but I have to imagine that any association with the Celtics is good for business north of Boston.

The Portland Expo. Note the large inflatable lobster (Crusher) out front.
The Red Claws play in the Portland Expo Center, which is the second oldest operational sports complex in the United States. The building was opened on June 7, 1915 and hosted an agricultural show as its first event. The building looks like an old municipal gymnasium, a far cry from the three arenas I found last year in Texas or even the re-skinned MassMutual Center in Springfield a couple of nights before. This is a building with a ton of character and history. I suspected as our cab driver dropped us off in front that this might be a bit different experience.

Sure enough, I was right. The place is small, seating only 3,100 or so spectators, and the stands feature bleachers, not chairs, probably because they need to be collapsed to make the place truly a multi-purpose arena. It had been a while since I've sat in bleacher seating and I don't miss it at all. I'll never complain about Verizon Center's seats again.

The locker rooms for the players are in the basement. The teams emerge from the same portal at the beginning of the game behind the stands at the north end of the arena. Oh and in addition to hosting the Red Claws, the Expo serves as the home court for the Portland High School basketball team. Now this is cool. The only thing that could really make this place any cooler on first blush would be if it were located somewhere in central Indiana.

The atmosphere gets even better once you settle into the place and see the "Crustacean Nation" sign and the two end zone sections named "The Trap." The concession stands serve lobster rolls and lobster tails on sticks and the team even has its own beer called Red Claw Ale, served under the ever vigilant eye of orange shirted alcohol compliance officers. You can consume your Red Claw Ale (or Bud Light if you prefer but why would you?) as long as your wristband is in plain sight when those same officers make their rounds on the sidelines. The colors were presented by the local Kora Shriners, complete with bling encrusted fezzes, and immediately after the national anthem was complete, the sound system played the Maine Red Claws song (When I say "Red", you say "Claws") to get the fans pumped up.


And the fans are pretty passionate. Not truly surprising knowing how into their sports teams Boston fans are. If there's nothing else you can say nice about New England sports fans (and there may not be), they are nothing if not crazy about their teams. The game must have been pretty close to a sellout if not a full house and it showed and sounded like it. We even saw one dude with a Red Claws tattoo on his arm, right below his Patriots, Celtics, Bruins, Red Sox and Portland Sea Dogs tattoos. I'm not kidding. It was awesome. This was the atmosphere I was looking for: big time passion but definitely small time stage; endearing and throwback but at the same time something you would not look back at for a shot in the NBA.

The Red Claws fielded a team of eight that Sunday afternoon. That was their entire roster since they just had a couple of guys called up to the NBA either on a ten day contract or a full ride for the rest of the year. Six of the eight were rookies who couldn't make it in the NBA and didn't or wouldn't head to Europe for more stability but less access to the best league on the planet.

They played the same Springfield Armor that we had seen defeat the Canton Charge two nights before on our first night of the trip and they came out like gangbusters. Despite their small numbers, they jumped all over the Armor, leading 30-12 after the first quarter. From there they hung on, losing the second, third and fourth quarters but only by a total of 13 points and ended up winning the game 100-95. It was the fifth home victory I'd seen in five D-League games but this may have been the best because of how the game and the atmosphere felt. If I lived in Portland (I won't ever), I'd make sure I got some courtside seats and show up for every game.

The Kora Shriners marching the colors off the court after the playing of the national anthem.
I'm not sure how long I'm going to continue to make D-League trips. I have a whole list of other things in this world that I want to see, both basketball and non-basketball related, and there may not be time for a bunch more NBDL trips, especially if the league expands to a true minor league system where each NBA franchise has its own D-League team. But if I never take in another game again at this level, I'm happy my last one was in Portland. The place, the building and the fans made it the best of the five to date.

One final note: on the north end wall of the arena, right next to the very small and non-HD jumbotron (if you can call it that), the team has a couple of NBA Call-Ups banners, a tribute to all the Red Claws who made it out, at least for a short time. The banners are a little haphazardly placed (I'd move the Celtics banner and place the two Call-Ups banners together) but I think its a great gesture to those players who have been part of the Crustacean Nation. There are two former Wizards on the banner: Shelvin Mack, our 2011 second round draft pick who we released at the beginning of last season before bringing him back and then sending him away again, and Morris Almond, who made it to the NBA with the Wizards for the final six games of the 2011-2012 season. I watched Shelvin play in two games in the D-League for the Red Claws last February in Texas. And I'll never forget Mo Almond because the Wizards never lost with him on the team. Perfect 6-0. Maybe there was something there...