A Sixer with Master Cicerone® Rich Higgins

Each quarter, you send the questions to us on social media and we’ll select six and ask a Master Cicerone^® to answer them. This time we welcome Master Cicerone Rich Higgins, brewmaster, beer travel operator, author, public speaker, and consultant to answer your questions.

How long did it take you to become a Master Cicerone?

The short answer is anywhere from 2 to 10 years, depending on how you look at it.

Becoming a Master Cicerone was a milestone in my learning about beer. I don't think that passing the exam means that I know everything about beer. Instead, it proves to me that I really love learning about beer. This passion for learning led me to start paying attention to the beer I drank in college in the late '90s. It led me to start homebrewing (disgusting) beer in college (no knowledge meant no hops and no boil), to educate myself and homebrew delicious beer after college, and to pursue a career as a professional brewer in 2004.

Because I was brewing at brewpubs, I operated complex draft systems, I designed food pairing menus and learned from chefs, and I ran a variety of beer classes, events, and staff trainings. Perhaps most importantly, I developed friendships with other brewers, beer collectors, and beer scholars, and we all pushed each other to deepen our understanding of a huge variety of beer styles. All this pushed me travel regularly to other parts of the US, as well as to Germany, Belgium, the UK, and elsewhere to dive into regional beer culture beyond my home town of San Francisco. 

I didn't realize it, but I had been studying for the Master Cicerone exam for all those years. I first heard about Cicerone in 2008, and by 2010 I had passed the Master exam. So the testing process was pretty quick for me, but I had been preparing for years. I couldn't believe my luck when I went through the syllabi and realized every single thing on them was something I cared about and wanted to learn more about. 

What is the functional difference between yeast and bacteria in a beer?

This is a huge topic of discussion that every brewer would answer differently. To me, yeast is the primary driver of mechanical change in a beer because fermentation by yeast so profoundly alters the taste and mouthfeel of a beer (not to mention the myriad aromas it can add). A beer's fermentation by Saccharomyces and Brettanomyces yeast strains reduces wort sweetness, which in turn increases perception of bitterness, acidity, astringency. Yeast fermentation has further impacts on a beer's mouthfeel by attenuating sugars and introducing carbon dioxide and alcohol. And, depending on the species and fermentation conditions, yeast can also create a huge variety of aromas in beer, and sometimes even some sourness.

Bacteria, on the other hand, have a much more limited role in beer and fermentation. The acids that bacteria produce in beer can have a large role in how a beer tastes because of how sensitive humans are to sourness; however, bacteria don't affect beer as broadly as yeasts do. Primarily, the role of bacteria in beer is to introduce acidity and occasionally aromas. Acetobacter strains produce acetic acid; Lactobacillus and Pediococcus strains produce lactic acid, sometimes buttery-smelling diacetyl, and sometimes a handful of other fruity and earthy aromas. Because bacteria don't produce alcohol, they're not used as sole fermenters in beer.

Other bacteria and yeast strains that I haven't mentioned above are typically undesirable, as they can produce copious amounts of unpleasant aromas. In lambics and wild ales, other fermenting organisms do play a role in those beers' aromatic complexity, but they're largely kept in-check by competition from strains of Sacc, Brett, Lacto, and Pedio.

Rather than silo-ing yeast and bacteria and looking at them separately, I'm fascinated by their interrelationship when they co-exist and co-ferment in the same environment. For instance, in the case of a lambic fermentation, Pediococcus bacteria have a semi-symbiotic relationship with Brettanomyces yeast strains, since the Brett breaks down the Pediococcus-produced diacetyl, and thus the Pedio is partly responsible for creating a preferred environment for the Brett—however, they're most active at different stages during the long aging. And in the case of aerobic aging with Brettanomyces and Acetobacter, both of these genera metabolize different nutrients (Brett strains consume carbohydrates; Acetobacter consume alcohol) but produce a common by-product: vinegary acetic acid. Of course, of the two organisms, only Brett can then use that acetic acid as a building block to create fruity/solventy esters.

Is it ever appropriate/beneficial to decant beer?

Decanting is very useful if you're pouring bottle-conditioned beer to a group of several people. When you pour multiple portions of a beer that has been bottle- or can-conditioned, you run the risk of rousing the yeasty lees during the motions of multiple pours, as well as pouring portions that become increasingly yeasty as the bottle empties out. Whether you're splitting a 750ml bottle or a magnum for a dinner party at home, or you're running a beer tasting event pouring 330s or 750s for dozens of people, it's helpful to get the beer off the yeast ahead of time. Of course, drinking the yeast and lees isn't the end of the world, but the lees are sort of like the rind on wedge of cheese—edible, but not the best part.

For pouring for large groups, I'm a fan of gently pouring bottle-conditioned beer into pitchers, angling the pitcher quite flat during the pour so that I don't knock out a bunch of the beer's carbonation or cause foaming. I keep an eye on the yeast in the bottle and make sure to stop pouring when the beer leaving the bottle becomes too yeasty for my taste. The goals here are to keep the yeasty lees in the bottle so that the beer in the pitcher doesn't look overly-hazy or sedimented and so that the beer doesn't smell overly yeasty and earthy. You also want to keep as much CO₂ in the beer as you can, so that when you pour from the pitcher into guests' glasses, the beer isn't noticeably flat from being jostled during the decanting.

I've enjoyed some unblended lambics that are still/flat from years of aging in oak and which show oak tannins and occasionally fruit tannins as well. For these beers, which function like table wines because of their tannin, acidity, and lack of CO₂, decanter shape could have more impact. I've never explored this idea before, and now I'm excited to! (Gotta get my hands on some Cantillon Grand Cru Bruocsella, first.)

Did you have a passion for beer and work in the industry prior to embarking on the Cicerone Certification path or did something else guide you?

With me, it's always beer first! I worked as a professional brewer for 4 years before the Cicerone Certification Program was founded, and took my exams during years 5-7 of my brewing career. During my 10-year career as a professional brewer, I was humbled by the history, art, and science in beer, and was always thrilled to be playing a brief role in beer's long history and bright future. Since leaving brewing and embracing my roles teaching, writing, and leading travel, my Cicerone title has certainly helped open a few doors, but my passion and drive will always be rooted in beer!

Where do you see the brewing industry in 5+ years?

I think the beer industry will continue to diversify and fragment. For the past few decades of craft beer history in the US and globally, it's been an us-versus-them thing, where a unified "us" has joined the cult and drunk the Kool-Aid of craft, and the "them" has been the big industrial brewers who are in beer for the business and not the passion. Well, we're now seeing the craft beer tent grow so big that there's room for more messages, practices, and influences within craft beer. Imagine a group of friends having dinner at a restaurant—it's easy to share a single conversation if your group size is 3, 4, or 5 people, but with 6, 7, or 8 people, the group experience splits, multiple conversations flow, and cliques can form. It's just a natural evolution within a growing scene, whether it's a dinner party or a 7500-brewery-strong craft beer industry.

Over the next 5 years, I think we'll continue to see cannabis ventures entwine with brewing ventures. I think barrel-aged sour beers and potent boozy imperial stouts will increase in sale price while decreasing in production. I think new beer style trends will occur, and today's trendiest darlings like hazy IPAs and brut IPAs might still play a role, but "new" will continue to be a trend, in and of itself, that'll be worth chasing. Currently, hazy IPAs seem to be the silver bullet for craft breweries to attract the 20-something demographic. Hazies have shown every brewery in the US the power of a style to court a new demographic, and new styles will emerge that will court new demographics.

The largest craft breweries will continue to try new lines of beer that chip away at the dominance of the large industrial brewers, dabbling in beers that try to deliver on full flavor while being low in calories, low in carbs, low in gluten, or non-alcoholic. Whether they deliver on their "full-flavored" promises is doubtful, though. There's a huge segment of the market that doesn't ever want beer to be full of flavor. These folks don't like black coffee, complex wine, fine-flavored chocolate, or stinky cheese; why should they want bold beer? There's nothing wrong with brewing non-assertive beers, and the recent spate of Mexican lagers, cream ales, and area-code-named beers is a great trend toward growing that part of the market. But, at the same time, larger craft breweries are struggling with the identity shift as their noble flagship pale ales, porters, and Belgian ambers get dusty on store shelves while cans of crushable lagers prop up their portfolio. We're at a watershed moment, and it's interesting to watch which breweries can succeed by staying nimble while maintaining a message that can resonate with multiple demographics.

Fresh or aged Orval?

Aged! Fresh is great, but it's missing something. As I always say: fresh Orval is like The Commodores before Lionel Richie became their lead singer: good, but missing their true soulful, velvety-toned potential. (Actually, I've never said that, but I grew up listening to Lionel Richie and The Commodores, so I'm sticking with it.) The aging allows Orval to come to fruition, giving the bitter, fruity beer its poise, structure, and enigma. For better or worse, it's tough to find fresh Orval in the US and it's best to go to Belgium to taste the difference. The Orval I find most often in the US has spent at least 3+ months to get from the monastery to my glass via truck, boat, customs delays, and warehouse shelves. It's no longer youthful -- but it sure is delicious.

ABOUT RICH HIGGINS: MASTER CICERONE, BREWMASTER, CERTIFIED SOMMELIER, AUTHOR, AND CONSULTANT

Rich Higgins is all things beer: brewmaster, beer travel operator, author, public speaker, and a consultant to breweries and restaurants. He is one of 18 Master Cicerones in the world, and additionally is a Certified Sommelier. He runs Beer Immersions educational beer tourism trips to Belgium and Germany. To offer an organized approach to blind beer tasting, he is the author and developer of the Deductive Beer Tasting Method. He teaches public classes, industry trainings, and is a public speaker and coordinator of events across the world. He spent over a decade as a professional brewer and brewmaster, three years as the President of the San Francisco Brewers Guild, and three years as Event Director of San Francisco Beer Week. Contact him at www.richhiggins.com.