Brewery focusing on Belgian and English styles that are sessionable and flavorful
What You'll Get
- Beer Flights for Two People
- Beer Flights for Four People
The Fine Print
Promotional value expires 120 days after purchase. Amount paid never expires. Limit 1 per person, may buy 1 additional as gift. Valid only for option purchased. Merchant is solely responsible to purchasers for the care and quality of the advertised goods and services.
About Figurehead Brewing Company
When Bob Monroe and Jesse Duncan became neighbors, they discovered they had more in common than a mutual attraction to the neighborhood. In a classic “What?! No Way!” moment, they both found out they shared a love for brewing their own beer and sharing it with friends. The new pals soon dropped the neighborly small talk and started seriously throwing around the idea of starting their own brewery. Once Bob brought business wizard Jesse Warner—a friend from grad-school—on board to help run the administrative side of things, that idea eventually became a reality. Figurehead Brewery was born.
Today, the trio adds to the already impressive Seattle brewery scene with a rotating lineup of unique concoctions that shine the spotlight on two ingredients that often get overshadowed in many other beers: malt and yeast. In other words, they purposefully tone down the hops to create smoother, slightly sweeter flavor profiles reminiscent of English and Belgian ales. That being said, they always keep a couple of hoppy IPAs on tap alongside those malty dubbels, crisp pilsners, and toasty lagers.
Malt: The Dark, Sweet Heart of Beer
Leave barley somewhere wet and dark for too long and it starts to sprout. At some point, some 6,000 years ago, a careless but lucky cook likely realized some damp grains were ruined and tried to dry them out before his boss came back and made him clean the tar pit as punishment. Raw barley is faintly earthy, tough, and not particularly fragrant. So the hapless baker was probably pleasantly surprised with that first batch of malt: the newly caramel-hued grains would have exuded a rich aroma hinting at their almost overwhelming sweetness.
As barley—or any other grain—sprouts, it begins to convert stored starches into simple sugars. This is the crucial step that makes beer possible. Yeast added to the sprouted grain devours those sugars, turning them into alcohol and carbon dioxide. Those first beers held a number of advantages for early man: the alcohol content meant that they were generally safer to drink than water; once fermented, beer was much easier to store than grain; and, though simple in formula, protobeers were brimming with a surprising amount of nutrition. Historians speculate that this discovery may have been what caused our nomadic ancestors to settle down, farm, and invent the most primitive forms of the party.
Staring into the impenetrable darkness of a good stout, it is easy to see why you’d settle down for a good brew. That hue comes from chocolate malt, barley that has been roasted to an almost-burnt sweetness. Lighter roasts, with poetic names such as caramel, crystal, and amber, lend beer the rest of its distinctive rainbow of hues and flavors