“My list has a lot to do with memory,” Covaleski says. “With only six selections, these can’t be desert-island beers—they have to have a strong memory component.” For Covaleski, that beer memory—of time, place, and the company with which it was enjoyed—is far more valuable than simply admiring a beer on its technical merits.
“I admire Budweiser from a technical standpoint,” he says. “With twelve locations and twelve different water sources, their product consistency is technically impressive. But it’s not in my dream six-pack.”
“Good DJs are just editors,” Covaleski says. “They can play anything. But choosing what to play is the real skill. Here are my six right now, but as soon as [we’re done talking], I may change my mind.”
Tripel Karmeliet
(Brouwerij Bosteels, Buggenhout, Belgium)
Tripel Karmeliet is one of those beers I discovered after becoming a professional brewer, after we started brewing Golden Monkey. It’s nuanced across the spectrum and just lush and luxurious, with notes of orange blossom and honey. Don’t pigeonhole it as a tripel—it’s pure liquid seduction that stretches outside of time and place—and I admire it for those qualities.
I’m an evangelist [for great beer] as much as [I am] a brewer, and this beer so perfectly breaks misconceptions of beer as thin or bitter. No matter what kind of bad start someone may have had with beer, Tripel Karmeliet can break them of those bad memories.
Our beers aren’t directly inspired by anyone else’s beer, but when I sit back and drink our V Twelve [Belgian-style quad], I sense some of the things I love about Tripel Karmeliet.
Stone IPA
(Stone Brewing Co., Escondido, California)
Like so many people in the world of craft brewing, I had my mind blown by Sierra Nevada Pale Ale back in 1984. It set up my lust for hops and hops expression. That came full circle in my first taste of Stone IPA.
What I find amazing about Stone IPA is that it’s somewhat restrained. It has this huge hops character, but it’s not just playing loud to play loud. I don’t mean to be demeaning to the category, but something about [Stone IPA] froze time and said, “This is what we’re all heading for.”
They’ve balanced a lot of flavors and components in a way that makes it a great expression of what an IPA should be. People don’t use the word “nuance” with IPA, but the way they’ve constructed it is almost haunting to me.
Herzogliches Braustuberl Tegernsee Maibock
(Herzogliches Braustuberl Tegernsee, Tegernsee, Germany)
This beer takes me back to 1987 when Ron [Barchet, the other Victory cofounder] and I took our first trip to Germany and Belgium together. That trip opened my eyes to the bigger world of brewing culture, and the location on the lake there is stunning.
The Maibock itself was so soulful, almost like a big dog—intimidating with heft and character, but gentle, warm, and inviting—with a copper malty deliciousness you can fall into liter after liter (then not be able to walk). So very memorable, it showcases malt and warmth and richer flavors yet still has that spicy German hops lift and alcoholic note on the finish that keeps it light and edgy.
Fullers 1845
(Fuller Smith & Turner PLC, London, England)
Fullers 1845 messes with my head as a brewer, and I’ve spent a lot of time hung up on what components make the flavors I’ve perceived. At first I ascribed the plum flavors to the yeast, but then it tails off in another direction and seems to originate in the malt.
It’s not a confounding or frustrating beer—it soothes me because it’s rich and big and warm—but it plays inside my head. There are so many things going on, but they’re restrained and play to the right level of subtlety. Fullers 1845 is more orchestral than other beers.
It’s funny, but I never really buy a single bottle, because I know I’ll want a second one. I love it with Indian food—it has the perfect depth to balance the heat of Indian dishes. I drink one for the beer itself and enjoy the second one with the meal.
Allagash White
(Allagash Brewing Company, Portland, Maine)
White just nails refreshment and is a durable food partner. I haven’t tasted anything the beer doesn’t work with. It’s just a great beer; I don’t know how to go more in depth. It’s not the most characterful, and there aren’t a ton of things going on, but it’s just perfectly dialed in for what it’s supposed to be.
Keesmann Bamberger Herren Pils
(Brauerei Keesmann, Bamberg, Germany)
I would put my own Prima Pils in my six-pack because I gain so much pleasure from it, and for a brewer to say that, it says a lot, since we’re generally not so motivated toward self-promotion. The thing that brings me back again and again is the flavor-to-body ratio—so much flavor reward and herbal hops presence and dry bite to it for a 5.3 percent ABV beer.
Outside of Prima, my most memorable pils is Herren Pils from Keesmann in Bamberg. It has that light German pils body that you expect and layers and layers of herbal German hops deliciousness.
People often say, “I don’t like hops,” but what you find is that they just don’t like American varieties of hops. I’ll get them to try a pils, and they often don’t think it’s hoppy. I’ve been fortunate to have Herren Pils on a couple of occasions. The brewery is situated across the street from Mahr’s brewery and in striking distance of two other breweries, so singling them out is a pretty lofty statement.
Germans are really good at sticking to style, but [Herren Pils] is differentiated and not what you would expect when I say, “German pils.” The German public measures quality based on similarity to style, but I find nuance to the Herron Pils that separates it from others.