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Skillet & Sage

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The regional table / Wisconsin

Beer Cheese Soup

Every failure of this soup is a temperature failure, and the two temperatures are the one you melt the cheese at and the one you add the beer at.

The oldest printed beer cheese soup anyone can currently reach in an open archive is not from Wisconsin, and it already knew the rule. Georgia Historic Newspapers — open to scripts where the Library of Congress is not — returns nine hits for the exact phrase, and the earliest is the Wheeler County Eagle of Alamo, Georgia, for 23 November 1962, running a syndicated food column headed "Beautiful Beer Cheese Soup!" and dated to the cheese trade's own calendar: "In honor of October, which is Cheese Festival Month". The recipe under it is butter, diced celery, carrot and onion softened without browning, six tablespoons of flour and a quarter teaspoon of dry mustard blended in, six cups of chicken broth stirred in gradually "until slightly thickened", Tabasco, a cup and a half of grated Cheddar heated "until cheese is melted", and then, in its own sentence, "Just before serving, add beer; heat to serving temperature." Twelve ounces of beer or ale, eight servings, garnish with parsley or croutons. Sixty-four years later that is still the correct architecture and still the correct order.

What makes it a Wisconsin dish is the cheese, and the scale of that is on the record too. Lee Jay Schenkenberg's 1916 master's thesis at the University of Wisconsin, "The Relation of Moisture to Quality in Wisconsin Cheddar Cheese", opens by citing the 1910 Census: Wisconsin produced 147,907,910 pounds of cheese, which was "46% or approximately one-half of the production of the whole nation, and half again as much as New York, her nearest competitor". Twenty years earlier the state had been behind New York with 21.3 per cent of the national output. The thesis then does the unglamorous work the state built its reputation on — analysing samples graded by the dealers who sold them, and finding that thirty-three export cheeses averaged 37.08 per cent moisture, sixty-nine "good" cheeses 38.59, and eighty-five called too moist 41.45, from which it concluded that 40 per cent moisture is too high for good cheese. The federal standard of identity for cheddar, 21 CFR 133.113, now fixes the maximum moisture at 39 per cent by weight and the minimum milkfat at 50 per cent by weight of the solids. Half fat, under two-fifths water: that is what you are melting, and it is why it behaves the way it does.

Why this version works

The roux is the emulsifier. Cheese is fat suspended in a protein net, and heat makes the net contract and squeeze the fat out. Industry solves this chemically: 21 CFR 133.169 lets pasteurized process cheese carry sodium citrate or a phosphate salt "in such quantity that the weight of the solids of such emulsifying agent is not more than 3 percent of the weight of the pasteurized process cheese". A home kitchen has no citrate, so starch does the job instead — gelatinised flour thickens the water phase enough that the fat droplets cannot find each other and coalesce. Skip the roux and you get oil on top, every time.

Brewers proved it with hardware. The same handbook describes a "Hop Aroma or Hop Oil Condenser" bolted to the brewing kettle's ventilator: a damper closes, cold water runs through a nest of tubes, "the volatilized hop oil is condensed around the tubes, and flows into a collecting receptacle", and the recovered oil is added back to the wort in the fermenting tub. Men whose living depended on hop aroma built a machine to catch it escaping from a boil. That is the whole argument for adding your beer off the boil, made by people with money at stake.

The cheese goes in off the heat. The same regulation tells you where the danger line sits: process cheese is heated "for not less than 30 seconds at a temperature of not less than 150 °F", which is enough to melt it and is also about where unprotected casein starts knitting into strings. Take the pot off the burner, let it stop bubbling, and add the cheese in handfuls. The residual heat of four cups of thickened broth melts a pound of cheddar without any flame under it.

The beer goes in last, and here is why. Hop bitterness and hop aroma are two different substances with two different boiling behaviours. Wahl and Henius's American Handy-Book of the Brewing, Malting and Auxiliary Trades of 1901 puts it plainly: "'Hop-Balsam' or lupulin consists of the volatile oil of hops and hop-rosin. The oil gives to the beer aroma and flavor, the hop-rosin imparts the bitter taste and helps preserve the beer." The aroma is volatile and leaves with the steam; the bitter resin is not and stays behind, concentrating as the liquid reduces. Boil the beer into the soup and you have deliberately thrown away the half you wanted.

Ingredient notes

Beer: a lager or a pilsner, one twelve-ounce bottle. Bitterness is resin and it does not evaporate, so an IPA puts three or four times as much of it into a bowl that has nowhere to hide it. A Wisconsin lager is the honest choice; any clean, lightly hopped beer is the same choice.

Broth: four cups of low-sodium chicken broth. Cheese at this quantity brings its own salt — a pound of cheddar carries well over two grams of sodium — so salt the pot at the very end or not at all.

Cheddar: a young one, six to nine months, and grate it yourself off a block. The rubbery, springy body of a younger cheese is intact protein, and intact protein is what holds fat in suspension; a two-year cheddar has had that protein cut to pieces by enzymes and will break no matter how careful you are. Pre-shredded cheese is dusted with starch to stop it caking, which is not fatal here but does change how much thickener is really in your pot.

Aromatics: onion, carrot and celery, diced small and softened without colour. The 1962 column specifies all three and it is right: they are not a garnish, they are the only vegetable sweetness in a bowl that is otherwise fat, salt and starch.

Step by step

  1. Sweat the vegetables. Melt the butter in a heavy 4-quart pot over medium-low heat. Add the onion, carrot, celery and garlic with a pinch of salt and cook 8 to 10 minutes, stirring, until soft and still pale. Do not let them brown; browning puts a sweetness in this soup that fights the beer.
  2. Cook the roux. Sprinkle in the flour, the dry mustard and the pepper and stir for 2 full minutes. The paste should smell like toast and no longer like raw flour. This is the emulsifier and it has to be cooked.
  3. Build the base. Add the broth a ladleful at a time, whisking each addition smooth before the next. Bring to a bare simmer and cook 10 minutes, until it coats a spoon. Stir in the milk, the cream and the Worcestershire.
  4. Take it off the heat. Move the pot off the burner and wait until it stops bubbling — thirty seconds is enough. Add the cheddar in four handfuls, whisking each one until it disappears before adding the next.
  5. Add the beer last. Pour in the beer and whisk it through. Return the pot to the lowest heat only long enough to bring it back to serving temperature, and do not let it simmer again. Taste, add the hot sauce and salt if it needs it.
  6. Serve at once. Ladle into warm bowls and top with popcorn, rye croutons or chives. It thickens fast as it cools, so warm the bowls.
If it has broken and there is oil at the rim, take it off the heat immediately, let it drop below a simmer, and whisk in a quarter cup of cold milk a spoonful at a time — the drop in temperature plus the extra water often pulls it back. If that fails, tip the lot into a blender and run it for thirty seconds; the shear will re-emulsify a broken cheese soup even when whisking will not. If it is merely grainy rather than oily, it was too hot when the cheese went in and the blender fixes that too.

Storage and make-ahead

Keeps 3 days refrigerated, where it sets to a solid block. Reheat gently in a saucepan over low heat with a splash of milk, stirring; never in a microwave at full power, which reheats unevenly and breaks the emulsion at the hot spots.

It does not freeze. The starch network survives freezing but the fat does not, and it thaws out as cheese grease on a beige liquid with no way back.

What to serve with it

Dark rye or a pretzel roll, and something raw and sharp — pickled onions, cornichons, a plain cabbage slaw with cider vinegar.

To drink, the rest of the bottle. A second cold lager scrubs the fat between spoonfuls better than wine does.

From the recipe box / Wisconsin

Beer Cheese Soup

A roux carries the cheese, the cheese goes in off the heat, and the beer goes in last of all — which is the order the oldest printed version of this soup already gave in 1962.

Prep
15 min
Cook
30 min
Total
45 min
Serves
6
Calories
465 per serving

Ingredients

Scale

Instructions

  1. Melt the butter and sweat the onion, carrot, celery and garlic 8–10 minutes over medium-low heat without letting them colour.
  2. Stir in the flour, mustard powder and pepper and cook 2 minutes, until the paste smells toasted.
  3. Whisk in the broth a ladleful at a time, simmer 10 minutes until it coats a spoon, then add the milk, cream and Worcestershire.
  4. Take the pot off the heat and let it stop bubbling. Whisk in the cheddar in four handfuls, each melted before the next.
  5. Pour in the beer, whisk through, and return to the lowest heat only until it is hot enough to serve. Do not simmer it again.
  6. Season, ladle into warm bowls and top with popcorn or rye croutons.

Nutrition

Fat35 g (22 g saturated)
Sodium850 mg
Protein17 g
Servingabout 1½ cups
Calories465
Cholesterol110 mg
Carbohydrates13 g (5 g sugar, 1 g fiber)

Nutrition is an estimate calculated from the listed ingredients and is provided as a courtesy, not as dietary advice.

Questions readers ask

Can I use an aged cheddar?

Not on its own. A cheese-making textbook of 1909 describes fresh cheddar as "very firm, somewhat tough, rather elastic, and rubber-like" with proteins "only slightly soluble in water", and describes ripening as the conversion of those insoluble proteins into water-soluble ones. That conversion is the flavour you like in an old cheddar and it is also the destruction of the net that holds the fat. Use a six-to-nine-month cheese, or cut a sharp one with an equal weight of young.

Can I make it without flour?

You can, if you substitute the industrial answer for the domestic one: a quarter teaspoon of sodium citrate per hundred grams of cheese will hold the emulsion without any starch at all, which is exactly what the federal process-cheese standard permits at up to three per cent by weight. The soup will be thinner and glossier. A cornstarch slurry also works. What does not work is cheese, liquid and hope.

Does it have to be Wisconsin cheese?

No, but the reason the dish is Wisconsin's is that by the 1910 Census the state was making roughly half the cheese in the country — 147,907,910 pounds, half again as much as New York. What actually matters in the pot is the age and the moisture, not the state on the label.

Why does my beer cheese soup taste bitter?

Because the beer boiled. Hop bitterness lives in a resin that does not evaporate and hop aroma lives in a volatile oil that does, so heating beer hard drives off everything pleasant and concentrates everything harsh as the liquid reduces. Nineteenth-century brewers understood this well enough to bolt condensers onto their kettles to catch the escaping hop oil. Add the beer at the end and bring it only to serving temperature.