Ever-changing Brews Made with Local Ingredients

By Kyle Kirves

I loathe the term “beer snob” because I’ve seen them in action and I do not want to be counted among that tribe. There is something truly offputting about the devoted and vocal double- or triple-IPA cultist that makes one long for the simpler times of a lukewarm Old Milwaukee, shotgunned on prom night in a high school parking lot.

That said, I admit it’s rare for me to be surprised by a beer style anymore, particularly in my own back yard. Yet my trip to Primitive Beer – located in the Prospect neighborhood of Longmont – was an eye-opening educational experience that humbled me. Specializing in spontaneously fermented, barrel-aged beers of the very specific Belgian styles known as lambic and gueuze (pronounced gooze, not to be confused with salty, sour goses), Primitive is a marquee destination for the prestige, experimental beer tourist.

Owner Brandon Boldt explains that “Unlike most beers where you’re pitching yeast – that is, throwing yeast in with sugar water to create alcohol and CO2 – in the early stages of our beers, whatever’s in the air, in the space, combines with the water to the same purpose.”

Hence the term spontaneous inoculation or “open air” fermentation. That’s how all the beers at Primitive get their start. After that, the beer goes into these beautiful, large-scale, oak barrels called puncheons repurposed from continental vintners. “For us, we’re looking for micro-oxidation and porosity to host our happy microbes,” says Brandon. That takes the kind of time that punishes the overeager, yet rewards patience. “In the initial stages, we will have bacteria producing flavors that go from an initially undrinkable hot garbage to, after transformation, to a citrusy or pineapple flavor. It is,” Brandon says, “part of a long game.”

In cask, the beer evolves and matures. In fact, it will do so over its entire lifetime. You can stop in and have a nectarine gueuze this week and, next week, the same beer from the same batch will have a different flavor profile. “The product is constantly evolving, truly living beer. That’s part of what excites us the most at Primitive, that crossover of flavors as the malted barley and hops,” Brandon says. Terroir, too, has an impact: Primitive’s ingredients are all-Coloradan, creating beers with distinct flavor profiles and composition that differentiate them further from their European cousins.

The proof, though, is the pudding, eh? What does the beer taste like? The answer is, unless you’ve been to Belgium, probably unlike anything you’ve had. The ones I sampled were sour and funky with cherry notes from refermented fruit. The tastes and flavors permeated the beer in a unified way (as opposed to some brews where you get a beer flavor with a distinct “flavor add” like “icing”). The beers had a dry mouth feel more akin to white wine yet still … beery. It begs to be paired with a charcuterie and cheese plate.

Brandon is careful to explain that what he makes is lambic-inspired. Just as Champagne can only come from Champagne, France, and most bourbon comes from Kentucky, only Belgium produces true lambic. “We would never call ourselves lambic. But we’re going through the same process as the Belgians.”

This is only part of the education that Primitive offers. Brandon, partner and wife Lisa Boldt, and the other staff at Primitive will be happy to explain what goes into lambic and gueuze (and their takes on the styles), why and how they present the beers the way they do, and what sets their beers more fully apart from, say, cask- or firkin-conditioned beers that seem from the same family, but aren’t. Want to impress your friends? Ask Brandon or Lisa about “koelschip.”

Apart from the tasting room itself, Primitive’s beers are available in a few select stores around the area, but you will have to be on the lookout. The lambic styles are “still” (i.e., not carbonated) and presented in the kind of box packaging you would associate with wines. That’s by design, and for still beers, it works. Let me emphasize that the trip to Primitive itself is worth it to take in the whole experience and walk out a more informed and educated beer enthusiast. Walking through the door is a transportational experience that drops one into a continental vineyard vibe just as much as the initial sampling of lambic and gueuze styles is a transformational one.

I claim no authority to give advice on the tasting front other than that brought by my own experience. For the uninitiated, when first sampling Primitive’s offerings, I say start with the effervescent gueuze – the carbonation provides a gateway from the familiar beer parlance to the unfamiliar frontier of lambic-inspired beers. Once comfortable with that puckering sensation that perhaps pulls your cheeks together like opposing magnetic poles, then take the leap into the domain of the still.

The occasional surprise is what continues to delight and bring joy to lifetime-long beer odysseys. Primitive’s offerings are exotic, yet approachable, and under the right tutelage may even become favorites. Primitive should definitely be on your list of beer destinations.