When one names a beer after a historical figure, should the final product in some way reflect the spirit, personality or legacy of that person? What if it was a person who wasn’t particularly well understood? Or one famous specifically for his eccentricism?
These are not the kinds of things I usually find myself pondering while sitting down to write a beer review, but most beers aren’t named after Joshua Abraham Norton, perhaps better known as “Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico.” In the proud history of American eccentrics, the life of “Emperor Norton” is one of the most colorful and fascinating entries. And so I took special interest when I read that San Francisco’s Almanac Beer Co. had created a beer in his honor, likewise named Emperor Norton, with instructions to “enjoy in the company of unconventional friends.”
The real Joshua Norton was born in roughly 1817 in England, before spending most of his early life in South Africa. He immigrated to San Francisco in 1849 after inheriting a fortune from his father’s estate, making him the equivalent of a millionaire when adjusting for inflation. Until the mid-1850s it appears he lived richly as a businessman, until he made a fatefully bad investment on a shipful of spoiled Peruvian rice. Unable to recoup his losses and tied up in legal dealings, he was reduced to poverty and declared bankruptcy in 1858 before disappearing completely. This, however, is where Norton’s story gets interesting.
In 1859 he reappeared in San Francisco, apparently having lost his mind in the interim, and declared himself “Emperor of the United States” in a series of missives published for their humor quality by the San Francisco Bulletin. He then immediately began to issue various edicts for how the country should be run, demanding the dissolution of Congress, the end of the Civil War and various building projects be carried out. Many of these decrees were oddly prophetic in their forward-thinkingness, including his repeated demands that a bridge and a tunnel be used to connect San Francisco and Oakland, something that wouldn’t be accomplished for another 60 years.
It sounds like behavior that might land someone in a mental hospital to be lobotomized, but in reality, the “emperor” became a beloved local celebrity in San Francisco. Tourists posed with him as he strolled around the city “inspecting” things and wearing a gaudy uniform of his own devising. He printed his own currency, which was often accepted and traded for souvenir value. Fine dining establishments created plaques reading that Norton approved of their businesses. In general, he was treated with a sort of bemused but sincere respect by the city and its government, who recognized a man who was clearly addled but apparently harmless and inherently likeable. He remained a fixture of the city until his death in 1880, collapsing in the very streets he loved, which was followed by a funerary march reportedly attended by 30,000 San Francisco residents.
I was first exposed to this story by Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman, which puts an absolutely beautiful twist on it for the duration of an issue entitled “Three Septembers and a January.”
And so, I couldn’t help but wonder, how does one base a beer around this remarkable man? What style of beer is suited to Emperor Norton? As it turns out, Almanac’s answer was a brew as eccentric as the man himself.
Almanac’s Emperor Norton is built on the base of a Belgian tripel, and that’s pretty much where convention ends. It’s then copiously dry-hopped with Citra and Hallertau Blanc, before getting one more finishing touch of note—California summer apricots. So ultimately, what you have here comes off as a fusion—part tripel, part IPA and part fruit beer.
Emperor Norton is very fruity on the nose, but also full of phenolic spiciness of pepper and clove. The apricot pops strongly here, with a fruit character that is unmistakably stone fruit. It’s a very promising aroma for those who love apricot-infused beers, which I’ve personally been loving lately.
On the palate, the hops arrive. There’s a lot of white winey character that would presumably be attributed to the Hallertau Blanc, a new variety that is often described in that way. The hop flavors remind me of pinot grigio—crisp and tropical. The fruit flavors are pleasant but don’t pop in quite the same way as in the aroma. Spice is definitely present as well, and is heavy on the clove. It’s an assertive beer, as one would certainly expect at 9% ABV, but as in some tripels, the alcohol comes through slightly abrasively—there’s a bit of “nail polish” here, and the finish is boozy.
In that respect it becomes a little hard to rate—the combination of hops, fruit and Belgian character is really pretty inspired, but it’s not as drinkable as it could be, even compared to other Belgian ales in its ABV range. Ultimately, you might say it’s a beer as multifaceted as the mysterious, eccentric man who inspired it, or as torn in different directions as the mentally ill guy it’s named after. It just depends on your point of view, but when it comes to the rating, I can’t ding it too much.
Regardless, it’s a pretty fitting tribute to a uniquely bizarre individual. Long live the emperor, and long may he reign.
Brewery: Almanac Beer Co.
City: San Francisco, CA
Style: Belgian tripel with apricots
ABV: 9%
Availability: May-August, 22 oz bottles
Jim Vorel is Paste’s news editor, and Emperor Norton is his spirit animal. You can follow him on Twitter.