Price Creep Redux: Beer Bars Disrespect Their Customers

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When predictions that the sky would start falling in the craft beer world over forecasted price increases a few months ago, I initially trained most of my focus on those breweries whose prices went up before their present contracts even came due (in many cases, the more established craft breweries have raw materials contracts going out a year or more). Despite the fact that their suppliers continued to meet their contract requirements (and prices), we started to see wholesale prices creep up a little bit in February and then considerably higher in March. While many American craft brewers have already raised their prices, even if minimally so, there are still many breweries in New England and beyond that have yet to even raise their prices.

Despite the delayed onset of the prices increases that we have been bracing against for months, drinkers in the Boston area began to see beer prices rise sharply as early as three months ago. In some places, beer went up 50 cents, in others a dollar. In a few dastardly holes, extortionists raised prices even higher. And all of this happened long before the bar owners even received their updated price sheets and felt the pinch of an extra five or ten dollars per keg. So to recap, price increases just went into effect, yet some bar owners have had their hands in the back pockets of their customers for a couple of extra months.

In justifying the price increases, I’ve heard a few pub owners break out the old gem, “the beer is good, so you should be willing to pay more for it.� That’s fine and all, but in this case the money is going directly into the publican’s pocket, not to the brewers.

Things recently hit a fever pitch for my friend Todd Alstrom, one half of the BeerAdvocate.com brother team, during a visit to Bukowski’s. A longtime fixture on the Boston better beer scene, Bukowski’s (with locations in Boston and Cambridge) has a reputation for loud music, obstinate servers, and absolutely outrageous prices. In 2002, I visited the bar soon after the Stone Brewing Company entered the Massachusetts market. After pulling up to the bar, I ordered an Arrogant Bastard. A few minutes later, I received a 12-ounce pour of the beer and a bill for $5.25! I eventually figured out that the bar was marking up the beer 500-percent over its wholesale cost.

So on Todd’s recent visit, he encountered the following highway robbery prices:

-Southern Tier Jah-va 12 ounce pour for $8
-Southern Tier Backburner 12 ounce pour for $7
-Young’s Winter 16 ounce pour for $6.75
-Sixpoint Sweet Action 12 ounce pour for $6
-Blanche de Bruxelles Wit 12 ounce pour for $6.25
-Dogfish Red & White 10 ounce pour for $10
-Harpoon IPA 16 ounce pour for $4.95
-Boulder Mojo Risin’ 12 ounce pour for $6.25
-Harviestoun Old Engine Oil 12 ounce pour for $7
-Brooklyn Pils 14 ounce pour for $5
-Abita Restoration 16 ounce pour for $6
-Opa Opa IPA 16 ounce pour for $5.75
-Harpoon Brown 16 ounce pour for $6
-PBR 16 ounce pour for $2.99
-Weihenstephaner Hefe 16.9 ounce pour for $7.75

It’s hard to quite know where to start here. Putting aside the fact that Buk’s charges an extra buck per glass of Jah-va stout versus Backburner when both have the same keg price, you really have to wonder just how malicious a beer pricer can get when it comes to the Brooklyn Pils and the Harpoon IPA. The Brooklyn beer sells for $125 for a 15.5 gallon keg, while Harpoon IPA sells for $120 for a 13.2 gallon keg. By the numbers, I should be paying less for the Brooklyn Pils then I do for the Harpoon IPA, but this not the case. In fact, I pay a little more for Brooklyn and get 2 ounces less of beer! And can someone explain why I should be paying an extra $1.05 per pint of Harpoon Brown, a beer which costs the same wholesale as the Harpoon IPA? Then we get to the Weihenstephaner…While the keg cost is a little higher and the pour slightly more generous (less than one ounce more than a pint), the keg cost is only $20 more than the similarly sized Harpoon IPA keg. Yet I am asked to pay nearly $8 for a beer that many local bars (Redbones in Somerville included), charge $4.50 for. On a single keg of the tasty hefe-weizen, assuming a ten percent draft loss with overpours, Bukowski’s is taking in $700 for a single keg, with a cost of $145, a price to cost ratio of almost 5 to 1). Compare that to the $470 Buk’s takes in for a keg of Harpoon IPA, with a cost of $120, and you can begin to picture the guys in masks riding up to your stagecoach.

For the last few months, I’ve been keeping an eye on wholesale price increases in anticipation of the impending “crisis.� Let’s take a look at some of the prices that we have seen here in the Massachusetts market, from January 2007 to March 2008 (prices reflect 15.5 gallon “half-barrel� kegs unless otherwise noted). The first column reflects prices (if available) in January 2007, the second January 2008, and the third March 2008.

Dogfish Head Craft Brewery (Atlantic Importing)
-60 Min IPA $129 $129 $139
-90 Min $175 $175 $189

Stone Brewing Company (Atlantic Importing)
-Stone IPA $129 $129 $149
-Arrogant Bastard $129 $129 $159
-Ruination $179 $179 $219

Bear Republic Brewing Company (Atlantic Importing)
-Hop Rod Rye $149 $149 $179

So in comparing Stone and Dogfish, Dogfish Head’s price increases seem pretty reasonable overall, between $10 to $14. Stone’s seem a bit higher, from $20 to $30 and $40. The jump on Ruination is a bit troubling overall and cannot simply be put off by an increase in hop prices (regardless of how stupid hoppy this beer may be).

Now if you were a bar owner and the price difference between these kegs in your mind really represented a substantial hit to your business (keep in mind the margins employed by Bukowski’s, extortionate as they may be), you might consider doing some shopping around for bargains. And you would find them. Great Divide Brewing Company offers its Old Ruffian Barleywine for $169 per keg, while North Coast Brewing offers its Old Rasputin Imperial for $156 and Old Stock Ale barleywine for $147 per keg. Compared to the Ruination price (these beers in my mind compete insofar as they represent sipping beers, not session beers), these respected brands seem like a steal.

By why bother restricting your shopping to the American craft market? While it may have been on fire in recent years, American craft brewers have much to thank their European counterparts for. Arguably the ancestor of much of America’s brewing creativity, Belgium is looking more and more like a steal recently. The same goes for German, Czech, Italian, Scandinavian, and British breweries. Despite the global scope of the above-mentioned raw material problems, the Boston area (a major market for better import brands) has seen next to no price increase on European “craft� beers. As I wrote in a very controversial column for BeerAdvocate Magazine, titled “Price Creep,� classic European brands often bring hard-to-match quality at a much more reasonable price than American craft brands. The Atlantic Importing lineup of Belgian and German draft beer (and bottles) has seen almost no price increases. Some brands have even seen a substantial decline in price in the last year (St Bernardus Abt 12, a beer many compare flatteringly to Westvleteren 12, went from $165 in January 2007 to $145 in March 2008 for a 30 liter Sankey keg). Only Brasserie de Rocs, Urthel, and Pauwel Kwak have gone up and only by a few dollars (seven in the case of Urthel Hop It!). Oddly enough, it was Brasserie de Rocs that I focused on as a wildly underpriced brand in the column.

While it may be time to start looking to imports for better value, don’t forget your price friendly local brands. Western Massachusetts juggernaut Berkshire Brewing hasn’t raised prices for its bottles or kegs a single cent since January 2007. Despite this, I’ve seen local package stores and bars consistently jack-up the price of this great brewery’s 22-ounce bombers.

And what about the small price increases we’ve seen for some breweries? A price increase of $10 per keg for a brewery such as Harpoon (from $110 to $120 for a 13.2 gallon keg) is probably long overdue. By the numbers, however, the cost increase shouldn’t result in anything more than a single dime being added to the price of your pint. Similarly, we’ve seen the following small price increases for these popular brands from the Craft Brewers Guild distributorship. (Prices in the first column are January 2007 or most recent period before price increase and the second column prices reflect March 2008 costs).

-Allagash White $135 $141
-Boulder Mojo $120 $130
-Clipper City $115 $130
-Gearys $110 $120
-Magic Hat $104 $110
-Sierra Nevada $120 $125
-Wachusett $120 $125

From a consumer’s perspective, those are entirely reasonable wholesale cost increases that shouldn’t result in major price changes at their favorite pubs. Now when we look at a brewery such a Rogue Ales, whose Dead Guy Ale jumped early from $140 to $165 (13.2 gallon keg), questions should be raised or bar owners should opt for a different brand.

How about our friend Weihenstephaner, which by the way, also hasn’t gone up a cent in more than a year.

I end this mini-rant by confirming that I do believe that the raw materials situation requires some price increases and that breweries should, to the extent possible with competition, seek to follow the example of industry leader Anheuser-Busch and occasionally institute modest price increases (versus stagnation for more than a year). But when a brewery’s prices jump substantially more than their competitors, consumers should be alerted to the red flags.

Moreover, I also believe that the actions of some greedy bar owners are causing the public’s perception of the hop/malt/gasoline/glass shortages to hit “crisisâ€? levels. To be clear, a 500-percent markup on beer is robbery, not in the sense of someone holding a gun to your head and making you order the pint (14 ounces), but in the sense of robbing respect from the client and dollars from his wallet. In the long run, it’s also bad for business as smart consumers aren’t likely to order a second beer or linger at a place with $7 12 ounce glass prices. In The Good Beer Guide to New England,â€? I defined a “great beer barâ€? as an establishment which has “an extraordinary selection of craft beers, respects their clients in terms of keeping prices fair, holds events promoting craft beers (from beer dinners to brewer meet-and-greets), makes craft beer key to their business, and also offers true character as pubs.â€? While I used to enjoy Bukowski’s and still occasionally stop by for a single pint (or 12 ounce pour as it now may be), it never came close to making my shortlist for inclusion in the book because of its abusive price relationship with its customers. I’d hate to see more bars follow its unfortunate lead.

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The Politics of Defining Craft Beer…

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It’s time for a beer pop quiz. What do Brewery Ommegang, Mendocino Brewing, and Yuengling have in common with Anheuser-Busch, Miller, and Coors? Alright, pencils down. If you answered that none of them are craft brewers, then congratulations on winning your beer geek merit badge.

Americans love to define things, drawing lines between themselves and their chosen groups, to the exclusion of others. The same attitude has slowly crept into the beer industry. From the earliest days of microbreweries, an upstart generation of brewers wanted to distinguish themselves from the large, corporate breweries. As the new brewers’ beers were clearly different from homogenized American lagers, their goal made some sense.

In trying to inform the public about their new beers, brewers quickly learned the public relations value of giving a name to their efforts. Despite agreement on this point, the brewers could never agree on the right phrasing. Were they boutique, cottage, artisanal, or specialty breweries? Due to their small size, many brewers identified themselves as ‘microbrewers.’ After restricting membership to breweries that produced fewer than 3000 barrels a year, the microbrewers quickly realized that success was eventually going to force some people out of the club. Despite increasing the production limit to ten and then fifteen-thousand barrels, the stunning growth of the 1990s burned the microbrewers’ first clubhouse to the ground.

A decade after abandoning ‘microbrewer’ in favor of ‘craft brewer,’ brewers are still arguing over what the latter means. This existential debate recently took on new life when the Brewers Association’s governing board established that an “American craft brewer is small, independent and traditional.� While few complained about the small and traditional components, a budding controversy centered on the association’s definition of ‘independent,’ which requires that less than 25-percent of the brewery be owned or controlled by a beverage alcohol company that is not itself a craft brewer. Suddenly, breweries such as Ommegang and Mendocino (owned by foreign breweries), Leinenkugel’s (owned by Miller), and Widmer, Redhook, Goose Island, and Old Dominion (partly owned by Anheuser-Busch) no longer qualified as craft brewers.

While outcast breweries and a handful of their supporters complained, many craft brewers didn’t see much of a reason to object. Some believed that the breweries that partnered with larger breweries had turned their backs on the craft beer movement, while others simply didn’t care about a dispute over labels. For its part, the Brewers Association believed the definition was necessary to protect the legislative and economic interests of its members.

For the brewers, writers, and consumers who reject the Brewers Association’s controversial definition, the craft beer industry’s identity crisis remains a difficult subject to tackle. For one, what other definition can we fashion to decide which breweries qualify as craft breweries? When consumers talk about craft beer, they generally mean beers produced by someone other than the big three. The value of the craft label quickly degrades, however, when applied to imported beers, such as Bass, Guinness, Hoegaarden, and Franziskaner, which are also brewed by corporate behemoths. Alternatively, how do we decide when a brewer stops being ‘craft’? Should we exclude the craft breweries manned by stuffed shirt, corporate types who do nothing but churn out thousands of barrels of bland pale and amber ales?

These questions are only going to grow more difficult to answer in the coming years. Can Boston Beer or Sierra Nevada still be considered ‘small’ when they exceed the two million barrel mark? Is there a difference between Full Sail Brewing, which brews beers for Miller and has accepted money from the brewing giant to update its facilities, and those craft breweries that enter into partnership deals with larger breweries? And what about the full flavored beers produced by the big brewers? While many consumers and enthusiasts deny that such beers qualify as craft, I’d bet money that they couldn’t single out the Michelob Porter, Miller 1880 Barley Wine, or Coors Barmen Pilsner as pariahs in a blind tasting.

In a conciliatory gesture, some brewers believe that we should call these products ‘better beers.’ But better than what, American premium lagers of Bud, Miller, and Coors? This awkward phrasing sounds a lot like a twist on Potter Stewart’s opinion on pornography, “I know a better beer when I taste it.�

In the end, the argument over which breweries qualify as craft is as pointless as debating whether somebody is punk enough to be punk rock. When beer develops into a game of us versus them, then the craft label becomes a meaningless political term. Instead of constantly redefining membership terms, we should focus more on the quality of the flavors and aromas in our pints and less on classifying the breweries that make them.

Article appeared in November 2007 issue of BeerAdvocate Magazine.

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Harpoon Scores A Rare Twofer…

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Congratulations are certainly due to the Harpoon Brewery for its impressive performance at two recent international beer competitions. Harpoon scored three gold medals at the Stockholm Beer and Whisky Festival and the European Beer Star Competition.  Harpoon’s flagship IPA won a gold at the Stockholm event in the Ale 4.8% to 5.9% category and a gold in the English-style India Pale Ale at the Beer Star competition, held as part of the BRAU Beviale event in Nuremberg, Germany. Harpoon also collected a gold medal in the Maerzen category at the Beer Star event for its Octoberfest. No comment from the competing German brewers on being bested by an ale interpretation on the classic lager style.

As with any competition, it is difficult to deduce the meaning of a win unless it is put into context. I’d like to know more about the number of competitors that participated in each category (how meaningful is a gold medal when you only beat five other beers?).

I have to admit, I find it a little odd that Harpoon chose to send beer to these international events when it does not participate in the Great American Beer Festival. I expect to see Harpoon at next year’s GABF as founder and CEO Rich Doyle will take over as the chairperson of the Brewers Association’s Board of Directors.

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A Quick Look Back at 2007…

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The beer world recently gathered again in the welcoming environs of Denver, Colorado, to celebrate the success of the craft brewing industry and to witness its continued growth. Hosting the 26th annual Great American Beer Festival (GABF), the Colorado Convention Center packed in beer lovers and industry workers from all fifty states and dozens of countries.

The Festival Succeeds

By all objective business measures, the event was a tremendous success. This year’s GABF celebrated the feat of selling out the entire event before the first beer was poured in the opening session on an unseasonably warm Thursday evening near the Rockies. The event all broke nearly every other record it had previously set. While final numbers are not yet available, more than 46,000 people attended the four sessions of the festival, where they enjoyed 1884 beers from 408 breweries. This event is a long way from its incarnation as an annual event in 1982. Held at the Harvest House Hotel in Boulder, Colorado, the first GABF welcomed 800 attendees who enjoyed 40 beers from 22 breweries.

Managing the event’s popularity continues to pose challenges for the festival’s organizers at the Brewers Association. While the event remains a must attend, today’s GABF is no longer the simple, cozy event of years past. The GABF is a slickly produced show, tightly coordinated, and business first. Limited by the space available at the convention center, the event appears to have reached its maximum attendance. Every inch of the convention floor was occupied this year, with educational seminars, cooking demonstrations, and a silent disco floor where dancers with headphones silently grooved. Brewers and owners from breweries large and small participated in forum discussions about beer styles, the experience of women in beer, and the future of extreme beer.

The event also served as an opportunity for the beer industry to mourn the recent passing of pioneering beer writer Michael Jackson. The author of whol sold more than two million copies of his numerous books on beer, whiskey, and English pubs, Jackson, 65, died of a heart attack at his home in London, England, on August 30, 2007. A long-time fixture at the festival, with his tape recorder and ruffled appearance, Jackson consulted with founder Charlie Papazian about the first GABF while the latter was in attendance at the Great British Beer Festival. When Papazian pondered aloud that Americans should stage a festival like the British event, Jackson is reported to have quipped, “Yes, but where will you get the beer?�

Fast forward more than a quarter of a century and Papazian stood on the GABF’s awards stage to eulogize Jackson, known as the Beer Hunter, in front of an audience of thousands of American brewers and beer lovers. The usually reserved Papazian delivered a rousing oratory for his friend, telling stories of Jackson’s early travels around the world in search of new beers. The tribute culminated in a tasteful video homage to the writer, including clips of his appearances on American late night television.

The Awards

After paying the proper respects, the Brewers Association began the much anticipated awards presentation. Over the course of three days, more than 100 judges sipped, smelled, and evaluated 2793 beers from 473 breweries in an unbelievable 75 beer style categories (up from 67 in just 2004). In the end, the judges awarded 222 medals to 142 breweries. Thirty-percent of all breweries participating left with a medal, with 62 breweries, or 13-percent of the total participants, winning a gold medal. Only 19 New England breweries participated in this year’s festival and the region continued to experience some difficulty in the competition, bringing home only five medals. Cambridge Brewing Company’s Cambridge Amber won a silver medal in the Cellar or Unfiltered Beer category, Allagash Brewing Company’s Victor won a bronze medal in the Experimental Beer category and a its Four won a bronze medal in the Belgian Abbey Ale category, Portsmouth Brewery won a silver medal in the Wheat Wine category, and Boston Beer Company won another gold medal for its Samuel Adams Double Bock in the German-style Strong Bock category.

The fiercest competition continued to be in the American style categories, with the American-style India Pale Ale drawing 120 entries and the Fruit and Vegetable Beer category growing from 46 entries in 2006 to 94 entries this year. The Large Brewing Company of the Year Award went to Pabst Brewing Company; Mid-Size Brewing Company of the Year Award to Firestone Walker Brewing of Paso Robles, California; Small Brewing Company of the Year Award to Port Brewing & The Lost Abbey of San Marcos, California; Large Brewpub of the Year Award to Redrock Brewing Company of Salt Lake City, Utah; and Small Brewpub of the Year Award to Montana Brewing Company of Billings, Montana.

The Big Guys Take Notice

Beyond the numbers, the real story of the festival was the continued success of the American craft brewing industry and its effects on the country’s largest brewing companies. In August, the Brewers Association released mid-year numbers that demonstrated that craft brewing is far from a tech stock bubble campaign. The volume of craft beer sold in the first half of 2007 rose 11-percent compared to the already explosive growth of 2006 and dollar growth increased 14-percent, leading craft beer to exceed 5-percent of total beer sales for the first time.

The response of the larger brewers to the success of the craft brewers has been mixed to date but their interest has clearly been piqued. SABMiller’s American brewing unit continues to push its Leinenkugel’s brands, including the Sunset Wheat, and the Coors Brewing Company aggressively leverages its popular Blue Moon brand. While the festival stood as a testament to the continued strength of the craft brewing segment, two events that quietly occurred before the event served to put craft brewers on notice that the big brewers do not plan to cede ground.

A few weeks before the GABF, America’s third largest brewery announced plans to form a specialty beer unit to develop high-end beers. As part of an internal news release, the Molson Coors Brewing Company informed workers and distributors of the creation of a new “brand incubation company,� called the AC Golden Brewing Company, LLC. The company refused to comment on when or where any new brands might be released. The announcement is another example of how Coors is directing greater focus and resources to the changing American beer marketplace. The brewery has a long history of developing and nurturing better beer brands, including the Blue Moon brand that it created in 1995 at its own brewpub, the SandLot Brewery at Coors Field. The Blue Moon Belgian White and its off-shoot brands have enjoyed great success and now account for more than 650,000 barrels of production.

In rejecting a national rollout, Coors plans to follow the Blue Moon playbook by slowly developing new brands under the AC Golden Brewing Company label. While the company refuses to discuss brands under development, several recent trademark and label application filings have raised speculation about the unit’s possible new offerings. Coors’ latest filings include applications for Pale Moon and Pale Moon Light, which are possible offshoots of the Blue Moon brand. The brewery has also filed a trademark application for Herman Joseph’s. Named after Coors co-founder Adolph Herman Joseph Coors, the brand was first released as an above-premium ale in 1980 before being discontinued in 1989. Buoyed by its success in the craft beer category, the brewery may be ready to take another run with this namesake brand.

The Rise of MillerCoors

Two days before the festival opened, a quiet bombshell was dropped on the beer industry. On October 9, America’s second and third largest breweries agreed to combine their U.S. operations to create the second largest brewer behind Anheuser-Busch. The joint venture between SABMiller and Molson Coors is projected to generate around $500 million in annuals cost savings by the third year after completion of the deal, which still must pass muster under anti-competition laws. The new company, which will be called MillerCoors, will have annual combined beer sales of 69 million U.S. barrels and net revenues of approximately $6.6 billion. SABMiller and Molson Coors will both have a 50-percent voting interest in the joint venture and have five representatives each on its Board of Directors. While touted as a “merger of equals,� SABMiller will have a 58-percent economic interest in the joint venture while and Molson Coors retains a 42% economic interest, reflecting their respective financial contributions to the new venture. Pete Coors, Vice Chairman of Molson Coors, will serve as Chairman of MillerCoors, while SABMiller’s CEO Graham Mackay will serve as Vice Chairman of MillerCoors. Leo Kiely, current CEO of Molson Coors, will be the CEO of the joint venture, and Tom Long, current CEO of Miller, will be appointed President and Chief Commercial Officer.

While rumors of the deal have floated around the beer industry for some time, the news of its consummation leaves many open questions for craft brewers and Anheuser-Busch alike. In seeking to secure cost reductions through ‘synergies,’ the new venture will likely seek to reduce redundant sales and distribution operations in markets where both maintain strong presences. This reality, together with the combined portfolios of both breweries, may tighten the distribution channels for some craft brewers who will be required to fight for places on fewer delivery trucks.

For its part, Anheuser-Busch quickly responded to the news. In an October 9, 2007, memorandum, A-B’s President and CEO August Busch IV called on all A-B wholesalers and employees to redouble their focus on the new competition. “We are studying the implications of this competitive move further—but we must not lose sight of the fact that this joint venture represents an attempt by these companies to better compete against us,� he wrote. “We believe this new structure presents a timely opportunity for all of us—as most game-changing incidents do,� he wrote. “This new entity does not match our size or portfolio of beers, yet there are undoubtedly synergies that this new company will eventually realize. At the same time, there will be significant transition confusion from this change, and it’s up to us to capitalize on this disruption now.�

The New Beer Sommelier

With the festival’s emphasis on education, one long-time GABF supporter recently announced plans to start his own beer testing program. Created by author and Brewers Association employee Ray Daniels, the Cicerone Certification Program will soon be available to test the knowledge of individuals who sell and serve beer. The Cicerone program will certify beer industry employees on a variety of subjects, including beer styles, culture, tasting, ingredients, and pairing beer with food. To encourage students of varying interest levels to participate, the program will offer three separate levels of certification, including Certified Beer Server, Certified Cicerone, and Master Cicerone, with costs ranging from $49 to $495. “Only those who have passed the requisite test of knowledge and tasting skill can call themselves a Cicerone,� Daniels says.

As a past director of craft beer marketing for the Brewers Association, Daniels is no stranger to the brewing industry. A graduate and faculty member of the Siebel brewing school, Daniels has written, edited, and published more than a dozen books related to beer and organized the now defunct Chicago Real Ale Festival.

While the concept of a beer sommelier is not new, beer enthusiasts have never been able to find a word that captures the essence of a certified beer expert. Daniels chose the word cicerone, which means a guide who explains matters of archaeological, antiquarian, historic or artistic interest, after rejecting several other possibilities. “My hunt covered a good bit of ground from things like ‘Savant de Beer’ to made-up words like ‘Cereviseur,’ but none rang true,� Daniels says. “As many in the beer industry who I talked to objected to association of the word ‘sommelier’ with beer, some new word was needed.�
With the development of his eccentrically named certification program, Daniels hopes to foster a greater sense of respect for beer while avoiding some of the snootiness and pretension associated with wine stewardship.

Article appeared in December 2007 issue of Beverage Magazine.

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Death to Beer Styles…

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A revolution is quietly growing in the beer world. Led by a group of nihilistic radicals, this movement seeks to overthrow the way brewers categorize their beers. Eschewing the restrictions of traditionalism, these free-form brewers want to change the way people think about tasting beer.

The radicals focus their scorn on the beer styles most brewers use as guideposts. Beer styles have developed from time immemorial, many born out of necessity and even accident. As brewers gained greater understanding over the brewing process, including the importance of temperature controls and sanitation, their natural senses of curiosity resulted in the appearance of new flavors. With the help of historians and authors, these flavors eventually hardened into distinguishable types.

The most widely accepted source defining beer styles is the Brewers Association’s Style Guidelines. Since 1979, the trade association’s historic and descriptive style list has attempted to bring order to an otherwise chaotic scheme of eclectic brewing methods and styles. The current list details around 70 distinct styles of beer, with each suggesting the proper color, body type, malt flavors, and hop aromas or bitterness levels.

While some may view the guide’s technical mumbo jumbo as a science nerd’s attempt to suck the fun out of beer, this mild criticism pales in comparison to the radicals’ disdain. In challenging conventional brewing wisdom, a small group of brewers across the country refuse to brew their beers in adherence to any traditional set of parameters. These brewers insist that style guidelines place oppressive, arbitrary, and even damaging restraints on the boundless creativity of craft brewers.

At Sixpoint Craft Ales in Brooklyn, New York, brewer Shane Welch is a pioneer in free-form brewing. Where many brewers first contemplate the style of beer they want to brew and then begin forming a recipe, an approach he calls ‘working backwards,� Welch visualizes each step to a final product. The Sixpoint brewer rejects working within the confines of classic style guidelines, instead choosing to focus on how he wants the beer to taste, look, and smell, down to the smallest detail, and only then does he generate a recipe. While the resulting beers cover a wide-range of flavors, the approach may painfully confound those who prefer order of categorization in their pints.

Throughout our existence, Americans have enjoyed blazing their own trail, sometimes trampling tradition in the process. Craft brewers are no different, tortuously bending and twisting time-honored and venerable beer styles into hardly recognizable new shapes. American craft brewers have taken the classic imperial stout, barleywines, and IPA styles and given them mohawks, baggy pants, and a soul patch. While for many this willingness to untether themselves from the shackles of history is part of the craft beer movement’s charm, there has always remained an underlying, if underplayed, respect for tradition. Some American brewers, however, appear ready to forego the tradition inherent in beer styles altogether.

For many beer lovers, it’s hard to wrap their minds around the concept of free-form brewing. Where they could once judge a beer against some basic objective criteria, however broad, the free-form approach appears to lose all sense of order and flirts with chaos. Without the benefit of styles in the tasting of free-form beers, consumers are left to simply ponder whether they personally like the beer. For free-form brewers, this existential point is the essence of tasting, unencumbered by paper rules influenced by European standards of beauty and achievement.

While the nihilists quietly conspire around the fringes of the brewing industry, many traditional brewers steadfastly promote the importance of brewing within the existing style framework. When drinkers understand even the basic nuances of beer styles, they are better equipped to choose the right beer when they order. But without styles or beer ESP, how does someone decide between Sixpoint’s SMP, Apollo, Express, or Encore? Without a descriptive beer menu or detailed six-pack container, consumers are essentially required to spin the wheel when selecting free-form brands.

Beer styles also provide a necessary check on the beer industry, allowing the consumer to judge the quality of a particular beer against others they’ve had in the style. The lack of any objective criteria provides poor quality beer with the ultimate means of deflecting criticism. An unknowing consumer who finds a sour or unusual off-flavor in their free-form can never be sure the brewer didn’t intend the beer to taste that way.

Standing in a barroom, looking up at the draft list, I remain torn over the value of free-form brewing. While pushing the envelope of beer is a defining characteristic of American craft brewing, so is respect for tradition. This constant push and pull has resulted in amazing displays of brewing artistry. While styles will likely continue to evolve and adapt to an ever-changing American palate, the free-form brewing revolutionaries may one day lead the way.

Article appeared in October 2007 issue of BeerAdvocate Magazine.

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