Goses are disgusting, according to one publication. Another says they have killed craft beer. If you listen to The Beatles’ Helter Skelter album backwards, just after the part where you hear “Paul is dead,” you can hear a voice say, “Gose ruins everything.” Gose is the reason we have not solved the common cold and achieved world peace, and why my lawn is always overrun with weeds.
The haters cheer when you tell them the recipe was nearly lost to time. Grain shortages after World War II, combined with the Reinheitsgebot’s restrictions on grain use for beer, led to fewer brewers making it. It made a comeback in Europe after the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, but it was not until 2013 when gose reappeared in America.
Gose’s watershed moment came in 2015, when it became the “it” brewing style for craft brewers. By then, Anderson Valley Brewing Company had been producing the Kimmie, the Yink and the Holy Gose for a few years and its Blood Orange variant had been on shelves for a year. Gin and tonic and melon versions came in 2015, while the Framboise Rose Gose debuted in cans this year. It’s made with raspberries and rose hips to create a tart and dry beer.
The Framboise Rose Gose is a delightful fruited variation, a reminder that a 1,000-year-old brewing style can survive a few guys who turn up their nose.”
Rose Gose has the oddest color combination of pale pink with hints of copper. Carbonation bubbles jump and pop from the top of the beer like soda, and there is a near constant flow of bubble rushing from the bottom of the snifter into which the beer was poured. Yet a hard pour yielded nothing more than those jumping bubbles and a soap-like residue at the top of the beer.
Those bubbles tickle your nose when you lean in for a whiff, which fills with scents of sweet and tart raspberry preserves and rosé wine. The flower petals don’t avail themselves in the nose as much as the palate.
That first sip, like most sours, is a blast of brine and lactobacillus. Let it pass across your tongue to adjust your taste buds before examining closer. Sip again and you pick up the tart flavors of raspberry and lemon, the latter imparted by the added bacteria. The salt picks up in the middle, drying things out and enhancing the sour notes, before the beer rounds out with a second wave of raspberry, cherry and floral flavors. Whereas the fruit at the beginning was tart and dry, the ending is a little sweeter and very refreshing. Cara Crystal malt and wheat are used to brew, but the grain bill is almost completely undetectable. The body is pretty light, while the aforementioned carbonation perks up the mouthfeel.
Anderson Valley goses were my gateway to sour beers and I still contend the Kimmie, the Yink and the Holy Gose is among the best in style. The Framboise Rose Gose is a delightful fruited variation, a reminder that a 1,000-year-old brewing style can survive a few guys who turn up their nose.