Beyond the circles of bona fide beer nerds, barleywine is a term that few encounter in their drinking journeys. But just like saisons, Flemish red ales, and English milds, barleywines are among the beer styles that enthusiasts tend to embrace after they’ve become well acquainted with — and possibly tired of — stouts, IPAs, and lagers.
As wonderful as barleywines can be, the “wine” part of the category’s name can both deter and confuse newcomers to the style. When drinkers browse the beer shelf, they’re simply not looking for wine. And given that these beers tend to clock in above the 10 percent-ABV threshold, barleywines don’t necessarily present themselves as beers via their bottle labels alone.
So are barleywines actually wines disguised as beer, or vice versa? And if they are indeed beers, why are they called barleywines in the first place?
What Is Barleywine?
Despite the name, barleywines are not wines. They’re simply strong beers, with some examples reaching 17 percent ABV or higher.
According to the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP), a non-profit organization designed to recognize standards for beer tasting and evaluation skills, English barleywines are “a showcase of malty richness and complex, intense flavors. Chewy and rich in body, with warming alcohol and a pleasant fruity or hoppy interest.” The definition goes on to note how these beers take well to aging, and are “usually the strongest ale offered by a brewery.” Meanwhile, the BJCP describes American barleywines as “well-hopped American interpretation[s] of the richest and strongest of the English ales.” However, neither entry explains the finer details of the brewing process, nor do they expand upon what makes these beers anything more than boozy, age-worthy ales.
For that reason, it could be argued that barleywines are simply amped up strong ales or old ales. The BJCP defines the former as cellared ales of “respectable alcoholic strength,” and the latter as malty ales with “the impression of age.” As beer historian Martyn Cornell writes in his 2010 book “Amber, Gold & Black: The History of Britain’s Great Beers,” “Strictly, barley wine is not a style since the term is, today, applied to any strong beer of any type, that is from around 7 percent ABV upwards, except for black beers, where the hefty imperial stouts are kept.”
With that in mind, and if barleywine encompasses a wide range of high-gravity ales, when — and how — did the somewhat misleading name become a part of beer vernacular?
How Did Barleywine Get Its Name?
Even though the beer world didn’t embrace the term “barleywine” until fairly recently, it appears in texts dating back as far as 370 B.C. That year, ancient Greek military leader and writer Xenophon penned the book “Anabasis,” which details the expedition of the Ten Thousand, an army of mercenaries hired by Cyrus the Younger to overthrow the Persian throne. At one point in the book, Xenophon includes the words “οινος κριθης” (oinos krithios), which literally translates to “barley wine,” in reference to a beer he encountered on the voyage. Although beer was allegedly enjoyed in ancient Greece by members of the lower class, it’s likely that Xenophon hadn’t encountered it, and thus described the beer as a wine made with barley.
Besides this being the first written reference of the term, it doesn’t provide any substantial link to how “barleywine” became associated with strong beer. In fact, it was the British who attached the name to beer, and that didn’t happen until roughly 2,000 years after Xenophon made mention of it.
According to acclaimed Chicago-based brewmaster and writer Randy Mosher, “for centuries, [barleywine] was a poetic way of referring to the stronger sorts of pale-ish beers available in Britain.” After all, malted barley is the principal ingredient in beer, and most barleywines contain an alcohol content comparable to that of many wines, so the category’s allegedly romanticized title isn’t all that farfetched. As was the case with stouts in the late 1600s, brewers often upped the strength of their beers so that they wouldn’t spoil. Additionally, the British found that high-gravity ales could age gracefully in wooden casks for years — like many wines.
Despite the fact that there were likely representations of barleywines in the 1700s, the term had yet to be officially recognized as a style. However, it’s then that we see the emergence of a style that would pave the way for “barleywine’s” market debut.
In the mid-1700s, brewers in the English town Burton-on-Trent began shipping their dark, high-ABV, lightly-hopped Burton ales to Russia and the Baltic regions. This trade arrangement continued through the early 1800s, but after Russia issued a high tariff on beer imports in 1822, Burton brewers pivoted to producing lighter pale ales for other export markets, such as India.
Burton Ale subsequently fell out of favor, but the breweries that made it continued to stay relevant with their pale ales and some remarketing of their dark beers. Undoubtedly the most notable of Burton’s purveyors was Bass Brewery (formerly Bass & Company). According to the BJCP, the company changed the name of its Bass No. 1 Burton Ale to Bass No. 1 Barley Wine in 1872. (However, some sources point to the year 1903 and others call out 1854, so the timeline isn’t entirely clear.)
Regardless, over the following years, “barley wine” became “barleywine,” perhaps to deter some consumer confusion. The pseudo-style remained relatively in line with traditional Burton ales until the London-based Tennant Brewery (now Whitbread Brewery) began producing a light gold barleywine-style ale called Gold Label in 1951. By the time the style caught on stateside in the 1970s, American brewers started making their own barleywines with a touch more hoppiness than their British counterparts.
These days, barleywines still make the occasional appearance on brewery tap lists, especially during the winter months. There’s Sierra Nevada’s seasonal, American-hopped Bigfoot barleywine-style ale. Firestone Walker’s barrel-aged English barleywine Sucuba remains a coveted annual release. And for folks across the pond, there are offerings like Wimbledon Brewery’s XXXK Vintage Ale, which was inspired by an old poster from the brewery’s heyday in the Victorian era. While they take on many forms, they’re often aged, always boozy, but never are they actually wine.
*Image retrieved from aviavlad via stock.adobe.com
