Skip to main content

Swill: Drinking Beer from Concentrate, For Science

Swill is our bi-monthly column dedicated to liquor, wine, beer, and every other delicious dram that falls under the broader umbrella of booze. But it’s more than just tasting notes scribbled on a cocktail napkin — Swill is about getting outside of your comfort zone, trying new things, and exploring the big, wide world of libations. One week you might catch us halfway through a bottle of single-malt scotch, and the week after that we might be buzzing on some Ugandan moonshine made from bananas. This column is just one big boozy adventure, so grab yourself a glass and join us for another round.

Beer and backpacking are two of my favorite things — but unfortunately they don’t really agree with one another, which leaves often leaves me conflicted. On the one hand, beer is a pain in the ass to pack in — but then again, what could be more refreshing than cracking open a cold pint after scaling a goddamn mountain?

For years I grappled with this dilemma, and apparently I wasn’t the only one. Turns out there’s this guy named Pat Tatera that had the same problem, but unlike my lazy ass, he decided to come up with a solution.

Long story short, the dude developed a way to make beer from concentrate. If you care about the process, Popular Science explains it pretty well:

“He boils water and malt to create wort—unfermented beer—then cools the mixture and adds yeast to ferment it. Instead of finishing the brew there, he builds a concentrate. He vacuum distills the mixture and reserves the ethanol, leaving behind a syrup. Then he starts the process again, adding the syrup instead of water. He ferments again, removes the ethanol, and repeats. In total, he brews each batch four times. He then soaks hops in the reserved alcohol and adds it to the syrup. The final concentrate is 10 times the strength of beer, and with the addition of water, it’s ready to drink. Just add bubbles.”

I first heard about Pat’s Backcountry Beverages about a year ago, but it wasn’t until the other day that I actually got a chance to try ’em out. Here’s how it went:

First of all, please don’t make the same mistake I did — don’t drink the concentrate straight. Or do. Whatever. Just be warned: the Black Hops concentrate tastes like soy sauce flavored moonshine, and the Pale Rail concentrate tastes like how hot compost smells.

But believe it or not, once you add some carbonated water, the flavor profile really fills out and both flavors actually start to look and taste like beer. Not great beer by any means — but not horrible either.

In comparison to a real pale ale, the from-concentrate version was lacking in flavor, but it easily trumps your run-of-the-mill light beer. I’d take it over a Rolling Rock any day of the week.

The Black Hops was my personal favorite. It’s not quite the same as a real dark ale, and I can’t quite put my finger on what’s missing, but it’s got a lot of the same roasted malt flavors going on, and would definitely serve as a worthy stand-in for the real deal after a long day of tromping through the woods.

I wouldn’t order one at a bar (not that you could anyway), but if you have some extra room in your pack, Pat’s Backcountry Brews are definitely worth the weight.

Editors' Recommendations

Drew Prindle
Drew is our resident tech nerd. He’s spent most of his life trying to be James Bond, so naturally he’s developed an…
Kick off Hispanic heritage month with these 2 incredible tequila drink recipes from mixologist Javier Ramirez
These recipes are great all year, too
Cantera Negra

September 15th through October 15th is Hispanic Heritage Month. There’s no better way to kick off this month of celebration of the achievements and contributions of Hispanic Americans than by imbibing some well-made, delicious tequila. There’s no spirit more entrenched in Hispanic history and one that deserves not only a month of celebration, but a whole year of celebration.

For those unaware, the spirit must be made in Mexico to be referred to as a tequila. It can’t be made in Milwaukee and then listed as a tequila. That’s a major no-no. As Walter Sobchak states in The Big Lebowski, “There are rules.” But, while bourbon can be made anywhere in the United States, tequila has more specific geographic rules. It. can only be made in the state of Jalisco (where the town of Tequila is located) and a few areas in the states of Nayarit, Tamaulipas, Michoacán, and Guanajuato.

Read more
Costco has a secret online store, Costco Next, that any member can access – here’s how
It's just like Costco, only premium - and there are no hot dogs
Ft. Wayne - Circa August 2017: Costco Wholesale Location. Costco Wholesale is a Multi-Billion Dollar Global Retailer X

 

Whether you have a bunch of kids and need that Costco membership for the snacks or are entering your middle-age era and have started shopping for your jeans there, Costco membership holders are die-hard people. There are whole Reddit pages dedicated to how to best shop at the store and plenty of TikToks showing how to maximize Costco hauls. Plus, where else do you get a hot dog and a drink for $1.50 these days? But we all know that staying home and ordering online from your favorite store is where it's at, so get ready to be blown away by how to access Costco Next, Costco's best-hidden feature.

Read more
The science of drinking at high altitudes (plus, expert tips for your mid-flight cocktail)
Curious about the science of high-altitude drinking? Here's the breakdown
Man drinking at sunset.

The Denver Nuggets won the NBA Finals this year and some say it's due to an invisible factor. Yep, because the team is based in the Mile High City, the air is thinner and there's less oxygen. So how does being at a higher altitude relate to the science of drinking?
It's pretty common to grab an in-flight cocktail or apres ski drink way up on the slopes of your favorite mountain. And if you've been that person, the alcohol may have rubbed you in a different way. Here's what happens when you engage in high-altitude drinking.

The science of high-altitude drinking
Frankly, there’s not a lot of good research out there on the topic. Back in the 1930s, freshly post-Prohibition America was thirsty again and at least a few people were asking the question. A Columbia University psychologist named R.A. McFarland looked into it, concluding roughly that at altitudes of 10,000 feet above sea level or higher, two to three drinks is more like having four to five drinks for low-altitude people.
But other studies suggest the body deals with alcohol the same, regardless of how high up one is. Researchers in alpine Europe looked into how beer was processed by the human body at sea level versus high up in the mountains at roughly 10,000 feet. The results? No difference, at least in terms of blood-alcohol content.
It’s a topic of some discussion within the aviation world. In fact, it’s easy to imagine pilots enjoying a Mai Tai pre-takeoff during the party-on-the-plane era of 1960s and 1970s. You know, the golden era of flying, when Pan-Am ran the show, people dressed to the nines (and wouldn’t even think about reaching for their Juicy-brand sweatpants) for flights, and smoked and drank excessively in the cabin. But studies in this regard, too, generally point to zero impact on the part of elevation.
Physiologically, it’s all about oxygen. Alcohol works its way through the bloodstream and tweaks hemoglobin’s ability to absorb oxygen. In the thinner air of higher locales, where there’s less oxygen present, it’s easier to feel something akin to tipsy (a little light-headed, dizzy, etc.). Alcohol’s effects aren’t magnified so much as that you’re simply imbibing in an environment with less of something you so vitally need — oxygen.
Which is to say altitude sickness exists and is thrown unfairly into the alcohol conversation. This condition is common enough that it’s estimated to affect some 200,000 Americans per year. Also called acute mountain sickness, it’s the physical distress some feel when higher, where oxygen levels are lower. Generally, symptoms include headache, nausea, and shortness of breath. Sound mostly like a hangover?
In the thinner air of higher locales, where there’s less oxygen present, it’s easier to feel something akin to tipsy.

Read more