The beer is cloudy and has a tropical and fruity aroma. But one sip answers the skepticism when the senses are overwhelmed with flavor—grapefruit, peach, melon, tangerine. This cloudy IPA finishes smooth and creamy, with little to no bitterness.
The beer is exciting. Its appearance tricks you, and you wonder how the brewer managed to pack in this burst of flavor. It’s no coincidence that breweries, is tapping into an IPA craze that’s taking the country by storm.
In defiance of American drinkers’ long-lasting penchant for bland beer, hop-forward India pale ales continue to dominate craft beer. It remains the fastest-growing sector of the industry, and just as craft surprised a drinking public accustomed to boring beer, controversy surrounding the IPA now captivates craft.
The New England IPA (sometimes called Vermont IPA) has made a big splash in the United States, with some claiming it’s the way of the future—cloudy, smooth, and fruity, with an artfully refined bitterness. What’s interesting is that those who brew the style usually attribute its name to the press and beer enthusiasts, not to the breweries themselves.
Dave Carpenter, editor of Zymurgy® magazine, when asked about the New England IPA, touched on an interesting aspect. “The impassioned ‘brewer’s lore’ that surrounds the style [is most intriguing]. Some speak in whispers about origins of yeast strains and swear by internet videos that suggest stratospheric levels of water hardness, while others draw battle lines separating haze and clarity. It’s like a secret society or the New England mafia. If you can stand on the sidelines and watch, it’s pretty entertaining.”
With the likes of New England breweries such as Fiddlehead Brewing, Hill Farmstead Brewing, Other Half Brewing, and Tree House Brewing all pumping out cloudy, fruity IPAs, this new take on the style appears to have gained momentum beyond its region of origin and finds itself in a national discussion about the validity of the style and its hazy appearance.
Chill haze, hop haze, etc., aren’t anything new in beer. But the proliferation of a distinctly and intentionally hazed IPA category has been significant over the past year. Note that hazy IPAs go back well past a decade. Most origin stories head back to The Alchemist’s Heady Topper, which in turn leads to The Alchemist’s John Kimmich’s time brewing with Greg Noonan at Vermont Pub & Brewery (which was reportedly doing hazy IPA as far back as the mid-1990s). Many of the newest breweries pouring examples at this year’s Great American Beer Festival cited Trillium Brewing Co. and/or Tree House Brewing Co. as inspiration. Fittingly, these beers are also referred to as “Vermont-style IPAs” or “New-England-style IPAs.” A lot of folks are digging this creative space—and I took a broader view with the examples sampled, ranging from session up to imperial.
Some brewers get haze from yeast strains that don’t readily fall out of suspension, leaving a ghostly aura. Other breweries have indicated that they’re using higher-protein malt bills (oats, wheat, etc.—the same stuff that promotes foam retention) plus late hop additions, in some wizard-like fashion that keeps hop polyphenols in suspension. Many folks mention flour, though the reliable Tired Hands Brewing Co. seems to be the main player there via its Milkshake series. (There are at least as many methods as there are potential category names) Nearly everyone seems to be aiming for greater juiciness, which certainly mirrors the recent ascendance of fruit IPA that we dug into earlier in 2016.
There’s no lack of people who find the hazier-IPA trend off-putting, gritty and in some other way antithetical to something an IPA should be. They are not without good technical and/or historical reasons. But the likelihood of anyone accusing me of being a purist is pretty low. I enjoyed these and other recent examples I’ve tried. They’re smooth, packed with juicy hop character and orchestrated in a fashion that I wouldn’t at all mind revisiting. While concerns of decreased shelf life (especially with the yeasty examples) and occasional gritty textures are warranted, there’s also genuine creative progress here. People are looking for hop juice. Brewers are looking to bring it.
Some additional nuances: Haze is ultimately fighting gravity—and it tends to eventually lose, such that a couple of these were already clearing up when I sampled them. Also: Even those brewers who’ve succumbed to hazing IPAs can disagree over how much haze is appropriate (and I’d be shocked were it any other way). It’ll be interesting to see what becomes the main method for invoking said haze. Yeast choice? High-protein mash? Hops aplenty will help.
More Noteworthy Releases: In addition to the folks mentioned above, you’ll find the hazy IPA at breweries like Monkish Brewing Co., Bissell Brothers, Other Half Brewing Co., Cerebral Brewing and The Virginia Beer Co. The lattermost is doing a series of yeast-hazy IPAs in its taproom, with plans to can. Aslin Beer Co., Block 15 Brewing Co. (for years now), Alvarado Street Brewery, Fiddlehead Brewing and Fieldwork Brewing Co. are offering hazy IPAs. Prison City Pub and Brewery in Auburn, New York, makes its Mass Riot with oats, wheat and the same yeast as Trillium. Yak & Yeti uses no oats but loads of dry-hopping for the tasty Sun Temple IPA. Even Boston Beer Co., maker of Samuel Adams Boston Lager, seems poised to join the haze parade, with its new Rebel Juiced IPA.
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