About The Beer: Goose Beer

By Greg Carlson

Just to be clear - we are *not* claiming that Gose is pronounced “Goose” (although we would support any subversive campaigns to promote that). It is pronounced GO-zeh. The name stems from a funny story during Taproom GM Kevin’s Cambridge Brewing Co. days, in which a German guest, whilst gleefully deriding some of CBC’s beloved but less-than-traditional artistic choices, came across a German-Style Gose on the menu and informed the staff that he was “from Germany and has never heard of theese Goose Beer.” That’s fuckin’ hilarious, so it is out of tribute to our haughty German friend and his display of self-parody that we appropriate this story for our own German-Style Gose.

An interesting thing about that story is that it actually makes some amount of sense that he had never heard of Gose! It’s a regional specialty of Saxony, Germany (originated in Goslar, hence the name, but most popular in nearby Leipzig) that teetered between increasing obscurity and outright extinction in post-war Germany. It had a rejuvenation in the 1980s and 90s that lined up quite neatly with the birth and growth of America’s craft brewing industry, so it was only a matter of time before Gose invaded and took a foothold on our shores. (Particularly in the past decade or so, when it seemed like beer writers were declaring every summer “The Summer Of Gose.” Of course, they would be the “Summer Of IPA Again.”)

For the uninitiated, Gose is brewed generally in the style of German Weissbiers, being comprised mainly of Pilsner and wheat malts and usually falling in or around the 4% ABV range. Similar to Berliner Weisse, the wort is inoculated with lactic acid-producing bacteria at one of several possible points, resulting in the beer developing a pleasant sour or tart flavor. Dissimilar to Berliner Weisse, the beer is also flavored with coriander and salt, which is lovely and also a bit unique in German brewing. (There’s also some speculation that salt wasn’t added to the original Goses, but that the brewing water was simply high in salt. It appears as though Leipzig’s Department Of Public Works or whatever put an end to that!)

To American brewers intrigued by this uncovered treasure of a style, the blueprint seemed simple: sour wheat ale, bit stronger than a Berliner, flavored with coriander and salt. The thing about American brewers, however, is that, on the whole, we can be a little...intense. German Gose brewers are quick to point out that American examples are often far more sour and saltier than the style actually calls for, which is a restrained sourness compared to Berliner Weisse and a barely perceptible salinity. And while we here at The Rock (make it so) find plenty of our countryfolks’ Goses perfectly enjoyable, we decided to brew ours with the Germans’ preferences in mind.

Here’s how we did it:

We start with a typical-for-us blend of pale and wheat malts (typical although somehow never identical), which we actually mash to give us a whole lot of body to keep the impending sourness in balance. Adding lactose is another option brewers use a lot for this purpose, and it works wonderfully in judicious hands, but in the interest of including our vegan and dairy-allergic friends, we lean on dextrins and proteins to keep our acidity in check.

Speaking of acid and sourness, to achieve it in this beer we use the same process we’ve laid out for you literally three times before, but with one slight difference! We just...don’t let it get as sour as normal. The souring is a gradual process that we end by reboiling the wort once our target sourness (measured using pH) is reached, and we just set a less acidic target than we do with the rest of our sours. That target is likely still more sour than what one might find in Leipzig, but less so than what one might find in most of our sour beers. Sometimes brewing is really easy to explain!

During the abbreviated boil, we add just a paltry amount of hops, per usual, as well as a few pounds of fresh-ground coriander and just enough Maine sea salt (yes, we’re big on Maine in the summer) to get what salt gives without affecting yeast health or making the beer taste like Maine sea water. 

From there we ferment, condition, package, yadda yadda yadda like the rest of our ales, and what results is a gently tart wheat ale with a complex citrusy aroma (the lactic acid and coriander teaming up nicely there), a lovely soft mouthfeel from the wheat malt and accentuated by the sea salt, and a long, subtly briny finish. It’s entirely possible that it’s too subtle for American Gose drinkers and too intense for German Gose drinkers, but we’re betting it’s perfect for YOU, Central Mass and Beyond Gose drinkers!

Let this be the Summer Of Gose!