Showing posts with label treviso. Show all posts
Showing posts with label treviso. Show all posts

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Italian Beer Series: San Gabriel "Birral della Scala" (Busco di Ponte di Piave)


Founded in 1997, San Gabriel is a brewery located near Treviso that is committed to the "purity" of the Reinheitsgebot and the greatness of the products of the Veneto.  Following the basic Bavarian recipe, the company sources much of their barley and hops from local producers, and they take great pride with their local source of water.  However, they also produce seasonal beers from local products that are definitely not kosher with the Bavarians:  figs, radicchio, and chestnuts from Treviso; yellow peppers from Zero Bianco; rice from Isola della Scala.  Despite their professed adherence to the Bavarian law, this brewery is, in the end, an Italian type through and through.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Palio of Castelfranco Veneto


Our recent trip to Castelfranco was largely a chance encounter, the result of a search for a new diversion after Treviso proved largely a bore.  I have been to the small, walled town before, to see the Giorgione exhibit which brought together all of the master's known works for the first time (including the town's own, "Castlefranco Madonna," which is housed in the town's cathedral).  This time around, I witnessed an example of one of the country's more typical autumn celebrations: the medieval festival.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Villas of the Veneto: Villa Barbaro (Maser)



Built in the 1550s, Villa Barbaro, located on the feet of the Asolani hills and right on the prosecco-producing hills of northern Treviso, was a turning point in the construction of countryside villas.  For the first time, the barn--the two adjacent wings that are dominated by the large series of arches leading to the two outer towers used to hold pigeons--was united with the central villa, used to house both the business of the agricultural operations of the villa, as well as the living quarters of the owners.  This was the start of the five-part profile, with a central building harmoniously flanked by two elements on either side. 

Friday, May 13, 2011

Italian Beer Series: Acelum "Freya" (Castelucco)


Brewed by a company that made the switch from producing equipment for wine production to  producing equipment beer brewing, Acelum only started making beers as a way to demonstrate the capabilities of the machineries and parts that they produce.  A year later, the company decides to commercially manufacture and bottle their "sample batches" due to the overwhelmingly positive feedback they receive.  One of the four beers they produce is Freya, named after Freya Stark, the turn of the century British travel writer who wrote about exotic locales in the Middle East but called the hills of Asolo her home.  Freya is a 4.5% Belgian style ale perfect as a session beer, the lightness of which is made more pronounced by the fizziness reminiscent of the area's prosecco. The color is a deep and hazy gold that produces a god solid head.  The aroma is of citrus and hops with the sweetness of honey.  The flavor is nice and balanced, with the bitterness of hops and citrus peel coming in the middle.  A great beer--hopefully the company decides to make more than just a side project of their brewery!

Monday, March 7, 2011

Italian Beer Series: 32 Via dei Birrai Oppale (Onigo de Pederobba)

32 Via dei Birrai's most important contribution to beer making is its official designation as 100% Italian made beer, the first in the country. It seems like a minor feat, but official designations of production or origin in Italy are taken seriously. Parmigiano Reggiano, for example, are strictly defined as the hard, aged cheese from the area around Parma and Reggio-Emilia. Having it any other way isn't just illegal, but also shocking and insulting, indicating a producer willing to abuse tradition simply to make money. In this context, it is then important that a beer in a country of proud wine producers and drinkers is considered "100% Italian". Not to over-inflate its significance, but to some extent such designation allows the country to own the production of beer, despite constant and almost cliché idea that they are not good beer producers (an idea even prevalent with Italians).

Be that as it may, there is one thing that irked me about the beer. After one pops the crown off, one usually expects aroma and ultimately beer. But 32 Via dei Birrai decides that that is not enough. As if trying to straddle the middle ground between common-beer and fine-wine (in a country where common-wine isn't uncommon, guess who this beer is marketed to), the drinker must deal with a funky little cork after opening the bottle. Not really a cork, but an artificial stopper with a cylinder in the middle to tell the drinker where to put the corkscrew. Nevertheless, there is a cork. This begs--nay, insists on--the question: there is a cork!? It's a silly pretentious thing to do, a gimmick to suggest the drinker is encountering a beer more special than any other beer. It's along the line of the tendency among Italian beer producers to dress things up nicely with pretty labels and gaudy bottles to put the "discerning drinker" at ease with the profane drink he or she is imbibing. It's as if they are scared of letting the beer speak for itself, which it is more than capable of doing. Put the thing in a bottle, slap a label with your brewery's name on it, sell it, and call it a day. It can be distinctive like the American micro brews, but I think one of the cornerstone of Italian design, especially modern Italian design--which is also apparent in 32 Via dei Birrai's design for the bottle itself--is its capacity to say so much using so little or few elements. Let's just stick to that and not charge me a premium for the packaging, please?

Anyway, back to the beer. Today I present 32 Via dei Birrai's Oppale, a Belgian pale ale that clocks in at 5.5% ABV, which is fairly low by Italian craft beer standards. The aroma is of fragrant hops, with a slight fruitiness presumably from the yeast. On pour, the color is of light rust, cloudy, producing a medium head. Mouthfeel is moderate, with a somewhat strong carbonation. On first sip, one tastes a bit of acid that turns into yeasty sweetness in the back of the throat. The sweetness is the last to disappear, and everything is finished off with a bold hoppy bitterness. It's nice how the sweet and the bitter balance each other out, but the ending is all bitter. A nice beer, but it wouldn't be particularly my first choice. Nice thing is this is fairly ubiquitous in the Veneto, so if I do want one it wouldn't be too hard to find.