D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
July 2009
A Head for Beer
Bob Gosselin of Las Cruces' High Desert Brewing Company educates a (former) pilsner drinker.
Story and photos by Donna Clayton
Bob Gosselin smiles a pleasant smile and tries not to show much reaction to my shocking confession — I usually order pilsners.
![]() |
Ingredients for small-batch brewing: Co-owner Bob Gosselin stands amid
the bags of hops and more. |
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," he says, then pauses. "But would you like to try something new?"
One of the handful of partners who own High Desert Brewing Company in Las Cruces, Gosselin is skilled at educating the beer-drinking public. He'd like to take me down the path to better beer; he says he thinks he can turn the key to broaden my palate and my beer-drinking horizons. The dozen or so regular customers seated at the bar turn around and smile. They nod knowingly at each other as Gosselin goes behind the counter, works the taps, and hurries back to the table where I am seated.
He places three tiny mugs of beer in front of me. Lined up next to each other, they make a row just barely longer than my lime-green ballpoint pen. Frankly, they are adorable, the cutest little beers I've ever seen.
Gosselin points to the lightest-colored one.
"Try this one first. This is a wheat beer. I call it a 'trainer' beer. It's what I use to train a customer off Bud Light," he says with a kind laugh. "My regulars are all hops drinkers," he adds, which causes a couple of heads at the bar to nod. Hops are a main ingredient in beer making, with some styles having a more pronounced — or "hoppy" — taste. I've always avoided the hoppy beers, having had an unenjoyable experience with a bitter one in the past.
I take a sip of the wheat beer and find it surprisingly smooth. It feels thicker, heavier in my mouth than my lightweight pilsner usually does — but I like it.
"Do you taste the wheat bread?" Gosselin asks. "There should be a taste in there similar to the way wheat bread smells." Being passionate about and well versed in beer, Gosselin can describe qualities in beer that I struggle to identify, and has a vocabulary to talk about them in the manner not unlike that of a wine connoisseur.
We move on to the next tiny mug, an Oktoberfest beer. This one is a dark golden color and I identify a toasty flavor. Gosselin looks pleased. "That's because we use a toasted malt," he says with a smile.
Next up is a brown ale, a rich red brown color. Its sweetness lingers on my tongue.
"Do you get the chocolaty undertones?" Gosselin asks. I nod as I drain the last drops from the little mug.
High Desert Brewing Company started making beer in 1996, at first just selling beers to other pubs. It opened its doors to the public as a small brewpub, serving a handful of its own home-brewed beers, in July 1997. The company started selling food in its first year of operation. Today the business has four brewery personnel, two kitchen workers and around 10 wait staff, and continues to sell to other area purveyors of beer, including Silver City Brewing Company.
Gosselin laughs when I mention the company's slogan — "None of our beers suck" — and says it was something he and one of the original partners came up with.
The tasting going so well thus far, Gosselin pronounces me ready to try the Anniversary IPA (India Pale Ale).
"I sell two times as many IPAs as the next most popular kind," Gosselin says, and goes to grab me another taster.
IPA is a style of beer usually included in the broader category of pale ale, first brewed in England in the 18th century and, today, a popular style of beer among American craft brewers like Gosselin and company. IPAs are light amber to copper in color, medium to medium-high alcohol by volume, with a hoppy, bitter and sometimes malty flavor.
"We sell three different IPAs," Gosselin says, producing a small glass of the Anniversary brew for me to try. He adds with a laugh, "I brought one for myself, too."
The alcohol content of most of the beers at High Desert ranges from 4.2% to 8.6%. The Anniversary IPA is at the top of that range, putting it close to the kick of wine. High Desert's heavy dark Bock beer comes in at 7.9%, and their intensely hoppy barleywine is 11.4% alcohol. That full-bodied brew commands a premium price and is sold only in six-ounce glasses.
Gosselin warns that I may find the Anniversary IPA a little bitter, due to its heavy hops. We simultaneously knock 'em back.
Okay, now this is a beer experience! Loads of body and flavor make my tongue sit up and take notice. Yes, there's a tang, but it comes and goes. I wouldn't call it bitter, though. My mind associates "bitter" with "unpleasant," and this beer is absolutely bringing me pleasure. I'd describe it as a challenge to my inexperienced tastebuds — but in a good way.
I'm four-for-four now on my little tasting spree, having liked all of these new-to-me brews. In fact, this beer is so good I'd make a point of seeking it out.
Seeing that he's got a convert on his hands, Gosselin is eager to show me how he makes these various golden commodities, so we walk around back to the brewery. He throws open the door to a room humming with equipment and my nose is filled with the unmistakable yeasty smell of beer. Huge silver tanks are brewing 200-gallon batches.
Gosselin first points out the "mash tun," a huge silver tank resembling a front-loading washing machine. Grain steeps in here in hot water for one hour, he explains. This turns the starches into sugars. This sugar water, called "wort," is then transferred to a kettle, where the hops are added. That mix is boiled for about an hour, then is passed through a system of coils for cooling.
Then it's on to the fermenter tanks, where the liquid now becoming beer sits for a specific period of time — four days for some ales and up to a month for lagers. Gosselin pulls out a clipboard and examines the notations for a wheat beer, tracking the specific gravity. That's the sugar density of the brew, he explains.
"This is a five-day beer," he says. "It's almost ready."
Gosselin puts the clipboard back in place and we head back to the restaurant and bar portion of the operation, where we find that the place is filling up. The barstools have seen a moderate changing of the guard — a few of the regulars have moved on and a few new faces have settled in. Two of the tables are now occupied and the smells of chili, burgers and garlic-and-herb fries are filling the air.
As I leave, I smile, remembering a Piels beer commercial back in the 1960s featuring award-winning journalist and author Jimmy Breslin. "Hey, I'm Jimmy Breslin — a writer," Breslin intoned in his deep Brooklyn accent. "What do I know about beer?" Then, with a slightly naughty raise of the eyebrow, he added something like, "But beer is a subject that is not exactly unknown to me," to the laughter of those around him.
I think back on my educational flight of beers this afternoon — the taste of that marvelous Anniversary IPA still lingering on my tongue — and laugh to myself. Beer is a subject that is not exactly unknown to me now.
I make a note to return to High Desert Brewing Company on my next trip to Las Cruces. Certainly I'll find something with more depth than a commercial beer like Piels.
After all, at High Desert Brewing none of their beers, well, sucks!
High Desert Brewing Company, 1201 W. Hadley Ave., Las Cruces. 525-6752. Open seven days a week, serving lunch and dinner. Monday-Saturday, 11 a.m.-12 p.m.; Sunday, noon-10 p.m. Live music Thursdays and Saturdays; for this month's performance schedule, see "40 Days and 40 Nights."
Senior editor Donna Clayton is a writer who
now knows something
about beer.
