Saturday, October 9, 2021

Wooden Ship Jazz Night Series: Smoked Saison (Part one of three, Biking to Birthday Beers 2021)

The Bitter Nib freely admits, and of this it is certainly not proud, to being prone to procrastination. Many planned posts were never written, or half-written but never finished, and they haunt me to this day. Now and then, though, you will hear about things here, despite the events being less than timely. It is my way of making good, for isn't late being better than never? 

A bad picture. I'll replace it 
sooner, or later.
And now we will drink a beer purchased two weeks ago, a crowler filled over five weeks ago, and talk about an event over three months ago. It was the fourth year in a row that I celebrated my birthday by biking to breweries here in the city of Minneapolis with friends.* (See footnote below.) The plan this time was to begin our little trip at my home, bike to the Linden Hills neighborhood south of Bde Make Ska Lake, and east of Lake Harriet, for the Wooden Ship Brewery, where we might meet more friends. 

This was the third encounter I had with the brewery. The first one was a sampling from crowlers dropped off at the retail store where I currently work. I wasn't impressed by the pale ale and the saison, but enjoyed the smoked porter quite a bit. (We still haven't begun to sell them, although the plans are at last in motion.) Encounter #2 was a Saturday night in May, while COVID regulations were in effect and reservations were required. I biked out there on this lovely night around seven PM to find a line down the block to make reservations. I enquired whether I could take a seat at the bar. No, it's full, I was told. Of course, it wasn't, but in these times, full meant half full. I vowed to try again, and that next try was with Jason and Angie on Sunday, the 27th of June. 

It's Jason, and Steve, and Angie. I forgot to tell
Jason to watch the birdie, I guess.

We pulled up to a bike rack not far from the brewery a few minutes before they were to open, at noon, and I found an old friend waiting. It's good ol' Steve, who had walked there from his home in Uptown. Steve is a very dedicated pedestrian. We found a table for the four of us, and started peeking at the beer list. 

Within about fifteen minutes, this small taproom had nearly filled up. I had guessed that this would be the case, for their isn't anything remotely like this in the neighborhood, and it's a neighborhood that would surely endorse a local taproom. The only question is, how good would the beer be? With a captive audience, it might not need to be the greatest, though bad beer doesn't keep a brewery open. 


Here's where time and memory conspire and lead me to missing some facts, unfortunately. I can't recall how many beers were available or which ones they were that day, although it wasn't as many as the dozen that they are doing now. Nor can I recall what my friends were drinking. There was some cross-over, and between the four of us we tried everything, so that means it wasn't more than five or six. There was common consensus, and that was that we all enjoyed what we had. Mine were the witbier and the smoked saison. I wouldn't be taking any crawlers along during this bike trip, but I've had them both in crowler form eventually, and the notes on Smoked Saison will follow at the end of this post.

The patio fills up faster than the inside, of course.


There was some discussion about the artwork the graced the walls of the taproom, the restroom, the crowler labels, and the website. The folks behind the brewery are represented on the About Us page on the website by illustrations from the same artist, and it seemed to me that the subject of one of those caricatures was behind the bar at the moment. I approached him and asked if he was the same Alexandr Jones, whose drawings dotted the taproom, and he admitted that he was. All I wanted to ask him at that moment was if the Jazz Night series reflected a future project that included live jazz in the taproom. Alas, not, it instead referred to a ritual among the owners involving smoking cigars (or was it something else?), drinking beer, and listening to jazz records. If you know me at all, you know I can dig that. 

(Months later, I noticed that all of Mr. Jones artwork gone from the space, and learned that he has left the brewery "for personal reasons.")


Here I am, drinking the beer described below.


After about an hour of enjoying our time at the taproom and the beers, it was time to depart for Stop #2, which I will discuss in a future post, along with #3. 

Since then, I've paid Wooden Ship (which will inevitably be confused with Edina's Wooden Hill again and again, of that there is no doubt) many visits, usually on Friday afternoons. It's a convenient stop after work. I merely get on the Minnehaha Creek trail so close to the store, take that to Lake Harriet, bike around the trail along the lake until it's time to jump off around 47th Street, then a short trip to 44t and Zenith. Around this time, the taproom can actually be fairly full and getting fuller, but I always seem to find a barstool among the six or so standing, and the staff is always friendly, knowledgable and enthusiastic. I seem to make it out there once every couple of weeks, and always enjoy my stay. Although the question arises what I will do once the weather turns cold and I am no longer biking to and from work. Time to figure out some bus plans, I guess. I am not as dedicated a pedestrian as Steve, that's for sure. He walks six miles to work, every day! That is something I would never do. (It's actually less than two miles to Wooden Ship from my home. I should give the walk a try some day.)

More about the beers. Several visits ago, I noticed an overwhelming preference for a certain style: saisons. On one stop, half of the twelve beers on tap were either saison or farmhouse ale, with various variations upon them. I would like to see a little more balance, but it is refreshing at a time when most breweries rely heavily on hazy IPAs and fruited sours, and never consider saisons. My impression of their brewing is getting better and better. A few weeks back, I was knocked out by a rye stout (another rarely seen style), an American IPA called A Normal IPA, and an Oktoberfest. Just last night, I made another appearance and was impressed once more by a tart saison, a smoked pale ale, a fruited, foraged saison, and a peppery, smoked porter. Good things coming out of this place. You'll keep hearing about them here. (Some of the above will appear here shortly.)

And here we have notes from a crowler of one of the first beers I had, back in June. 

Smoked Saison, Jazz Night Smoked-Beer Series. 

5.4% ABV. Wooden Ship Brewing, Minneapolis, MN.


"Smoked Saison", eh? Have I ever had one of those? Is this a first? 

Clear, bright golden/amber coloring, small white head. 

In the nose: the telltale smell of saison yeast wafts from the glass, keeping time with a whiff of smoked malt. Let's go in deep. There's the funk, the barnyard esters, the twist of citrus and spice, with the smoke twirling up and entwining it. Intriguing. 

In the mouth: Starts out smooth, fruity, and exceptionally refreshing. Citrus and stone fruit. Orange, and apricot. Smoked flavors lingering lightly on the palate. 

A French saison, brewed with oak and beechwood smoked malts.



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