Our
northern Vermont “beercation” nears its climactic end. On a leg of the tour that
proved to be both trying and rewarding, we visited a very small brewery that
many hardcore beer fans would not only declare tops in New England, but also
rank as one of our country’s elite. The brewery’s called Hill Farmstead and
DBNE was more than a little anxious to finally see it.
To
be honest I was not aware of Hill Farmstead during the first few years that I
became passionate about craft beer, because it’s not a name one sees casually
in stores or at their neighborhood watering hole. Why? Because outside of a
few bottles occasional showing up in a store in Montpelier VT, the only place
to buy their beer is at the brewery. And trust me when I tell you this – you do
not live near Hill Farmstead. Its locale defines the phrase “out of the way.”
Already
deep in northern Vermont, DBNE left its temporary base in Waterbury to trek even
deeper into Vermont’s “northeast kingdom”. Ninety minutes deeper in fact, up to
Greensboro VT. We saw little else in Greensboro other than trees, and I don’t
remember more than two cars passing by. As we motored down the highway in
the middle of nowhere, there was a small dirt road off to the side that was hardly marked. I'd heard this was the sign that we were two miles from the brewery and that from here on we had to travel on dirt roads that were, at times, mud pits. They were. And our car
still hasn’t forgiven us.
We
arrived at the brewery only a few minutes after their scheduled opening time,
and meandered confusingly around the almost abandoned-looking property searching
for an entrance to their tasting room. After accidentally opening the door to
the brewery’s back room, we eventually found our way to the correct door around the side of the building. Head brewer, Shaun Hill, was right inside the door, on Facebook.
Who knew Facebook was known this far up in Vermont?
Shaun’s
a humble-looking young guy. He’s just thirty-two years old, but has worked
a number of years in breweries, both domestically and abroad at Nørrebro Bryghus in Denmark. His beer is praised and he has begun to acquire minor celebrity status among hardcore beer geek circles. His personality conveys
that he’s aware of how highly he’s spoken about. Yet, it seems he’s
uncomfortable with it. We easily got the sense that he’s tired of media calling
him for redundant profile stories, and would let out a big sigh if he had to
explain the history of Hill Farmstead again. Instead, he motions to an article
about his story posted on the wall that you can read. His initial timidness seems to be a natural reaction he has towards anyone who he meets for the first time. You can tell he wondered if we’re going to be one of the annoyingly chatty visitors who loiter for too long, one of the jerks who resell his beer for astronomical prices on eBay, or a genuine visitor simply interested in tasting his beers.
I
guess we won his approval because in the end he became friendlier. To Shaun’s
defense, he mentioned when we arrived that he had to handle the tasting room in
addition to brewing today; as if the guy who typically handles tastings and bottle
purchases called in sick. So in between pouring something for us to taste, he
would run back and forth between kettles and tanks to add hops, move hoses,
tweak equipment settings, etc. He was definitely busy, but encouraged us to
shout out questions as he worked. And at one point, on top of a short ladder across the room, he had a bucket of Columbus
hops in his hand and asked us in pure giddiness, “have you
ever smelled raw Columbus hops before!?” We said no and he came down from his
ladder and eagerly brought the bucket over to us so we sink our faces into it.
Many
of Shaun’s beers are named after family members, and when I pointed to an old
black and white photo of what looked like relatives, he smiled, stopped
what he was doing, and happily explain who the people were in the picture.
Speaking
of the beers, we tasted six. And they all live up to the hype.
First
was “Edward,” which I had once before, and is easily the best pale ale I’ve
ever had. Arguably, it has one leg in IPA land and blurs the lines between the
two styles like no other. Its rustic full body and amazing hop profile trick you into thinking you’re drinking something bigger than just a 5.2% ABV pale ale.
Next
was “Harlan.” Shaun’s most common IPA. Out of all of Shaun’s beers we’ve had,
this is my least favorite, but it’s still very good and I would never turn it
down. Looking almost like a Belgian Wit, it offers a pleasant, yet somewhat
subdued, tropical aroma and flavor. This is an easy-drinking IPA at 6.0%ABV.
Not
named after a relative, the next beer, called “Columbus,” is named for the one
hop type it uses (typically beer is brewed with multiple hop varieties.) This was another pleasant IPA, though unlike Harlan, its flavor and aroma offer more
earthy, spicy, and resiny notes.
Back
to family-named homages, we then tasted “Abner,” a double IPA. One of my
favorite styles, this version is a knockout. Big tropical notes dance over a
dank hop undertone. And its earthy malt profile comes across a bit chewy. This
one is beyond satisfying.
One
of my other favorite styles is a Porter, and Shaun’s version, called “Everett,”
is a homerun. It’s a robust Porter sitting at 7.5%, which is just shy of imperial level.
So it’s most similar to something like Smuttynose’s Robust Porter. Everett
could not be any smoother. It’s very full bodied. Thick even. But it drinks like silk. The
flavor brings to mind Nutella, oats, nuts, and dark chocolate, but with a touch
of acidic hop in the front of it all. Its alcohol is more hidden than
Smuttynose’s version.
Lastly
we tasted a wonderfully decadent black IPA called “Society and Solitude 2.” It
blends pine and a little orange with heavily roasted coffee and charred
unsweetened chocolate. Because of its full flavor and the 9.5% ABV, it’s more
of a sipper.
We purchased a few bottles to take home. We wanted a bottle of everything, but Hill
Farmstead is a cash-only establishment, and we only had $41 on us. We wound up
with 750ml bottles of Edward and Abner, a smaller bottle of Everett, and pre-bottled, honey-infused saison called Anna that we didn’t get to try during our visit as
it wasn’t on tap.
Just as we started to make our purchases and head out, other
people started to pour into the room that, until that point, we had all to
ourselves. I could see Shaun beginning to get mildly irritated from a couple of
the questions a new visitor was asking, as if he was thinking to himself,
“what do you mean what's the difference between the two beers...the answer’s right on the board in front of you!”
Just
minutes after looking annoyed in the tasting room, Shaun gave us a cheerful
wave as we drove away. And that perfectly sums up our interaction with him. He’s
a genuinely nice guy who at times maybe feels victimized by the hype his skillful
craft brings him, and annoyed at the same silly questions he always gets. At one moment he conveys a child-like friendliness, then
another moment he struggles socially, or looks aggravated. But we don’t fault him for it. When he
claims that he enjoyed the craft beer scene more a few years ago, I assume he’s
indirectly referring in to the hype his beers have gained since that time, and wishes
he didn’t have to always deal with it.
Normally,
I wouldn’t talk so much of the brewer and inadvertently raise the pedestal that
others put them on. I prefer to let the beers speak for themselves. But Shaun was
just too interesting of a character during our visit to not talk about him here.
Ultimately,
while Hill Farmstead is a chore to get to, it’s absolutely worth visiting at
least once to taste tremendous beers straight from the source. Heck, you have to visit it if you want to actually
buy their beer. If you go, bring cash
and a four-wheel drive vehicle.
Side
Note – there is one other business we were aware of in Greensboro before driving through “town”. Do you like cheese? Then familiarize yourself with
Cellars at Jasper Hill. These skillful people produce the most delicious and
complex cheese I’ve ever tasted. Named “Winnemere,” this cheese is washed in
Hill Farmstead beer, wrapped in tree bark, and looks like the pasty glue you
smeared all over your hands in 3rd grade art class. It is
divine.
Jasper Hill also takes a pedestrian cheddar from Cabot, wraps it in
muslin, brushes it with lard, lovingly ages it for fourteen months, then hands
it back to the folks at Cabot with – as I like to envision it – an unprompted “you’re welcome,” because it’s
a million times better than its original state. I swear they use a magic wand
somewhere in that process. Although we discovered that the Jasper Hill farm was very
close to Hill Farmstead, we didn't see it. Turns out they don’t have a
visitor’s center, anyway. I was upset at first but realized it was best to let
Jasper Hill exist only as it does in my imagination – a Willy Wonka-like wonderland of
cheese wheels and whistling elves who never stop smiling and often break into
song.
Hill
Farmstead Brewery
403 Hill Rd
Greensboro Bend, Vermont, 05842-8813
Ph: (802) 533-7450
Greensboro Bend, Vermont, 05842-8813
Ph: (802) 533-7450
