Threes Brewing in Brooklyn is accepting cryptocurrency. You know, like Bitcoin.
Compare and contrast with Scratch Brewing. You likely know the name because Marika Josephson and Aaron Kleidon have made an art out of brewing with foraged ingredients. Good beers, but the real reason people keep going back is the joy of simply being there. Not the sort of place you’d pay for a beer with digital money. In fact, if case you aren’t seeing the image below, they only take cash.
Anybody have an idea who this unnamed brewer is?
(Page 116, The World Guide to Beer, edited by Michael Jackson.)
Please wait for the answer.
Here you go . . .
Pierre Celis had been brewing beer in Hoegaarden for more than 10 years when Jackson’s beer-changing book came out in 1977, so it is surprising that it appears Jackson knew of him but not his name. I happened to notice this because currently I am reading “Celis Beer: Born in Belgium, Brewed in Texas.”
Evan Rail writes today at Vine Pair about “an unexpected literary micro-genre: writing that attempts to define just what is meant by the term ‘craft’ when it comes to food and drink.”
His story is about both the words themselves and what they mean in other countries and cultures. (Rail explored the meaning in depth himself a few years ago in “The Meanings of Craft Beer.”)
I feel like I’ve seen this picture, and I thought again about Mike Kallenberger’s suggestion that craft doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing for many beer drinkers that it once did.
I also thought of something Sebastian Priller-Riegele, a 28th generation brewer, at Brauhaus Riegele, said when I visited the brewery in Augsburg a couple of year ago.
“It means, Not from here.”
(Riegele actually sells its own line of beers labeled “craft” — and at a higher price than its own traditional styles, which happen to be among the best in the word. But that doesn’t make what he said any less true.)
Three stories to consider for background:
– Pete Brown wished William Morris, who he calls the godfather of craft beer, a happy birthday. Spoiler alert, he concludes:
“Arts & Crafts, like craft beer, was easy to criticise, easy for those who wanted to exploit it and manipulate it to do so, easy to dismiss as being expensive and over-hyped. But a century after its supposed demise, both it and its founder remain culturally vital. As long as we have cheap, mass-market, industrialised production making goods for everyone, we’re going to have niche craft versions produced as a counter-cultural alternative – available for anyone who can afford to buy them.”
– In the newest issue of The New Brewer, Mike Kallenberger asks if the brand of craft beer has been diluted. (The story is available to Brewers Association members online, to the link may or may not work for you.) He writes:
“I’ve long been concerned that, by moving in the direction of ‘drinkability’ that mainstream brewers almost fetishize, the meaning of craft beer itself has become watered down.”
– Josh Noel writes about the sale of Goose Island Beer to Anheuser-Busch InBev 10 years later. Deep in the story he writes:
“The biggest loser during the last 10 years, arguably, has been the consumer. The reason isn’t just the uninspired beers coming out of the Anheuser-Busch breweries — it’s that it’s nearly impossible for most people to tell which brands are made by Goose Island in Chicago and which are made by Anheuser-Busch in far-flung states.”
Pomona Paradise, and ingredients in waiting at Pontoon Brewing.
The draft list at Pontoon Brewing in the large Atlanta suburb of Sandy Springs currently includes beers with flavors reminiscent of girl scout cookies, Bananas Foster and cherry cobbler. And, of course, more than one hazy IPA.
Smoothie-style sour is not a category at the Great American Beer Festival, but it is at Pontoon. Saturday the brewery released Pomona Paradise, “Brewed with mangos, blackberries, limes, and raspberries, this beer is a liquid cornucopia of juicy, tart, and delicious fruits. 5% ABV.”
Pontoon brewed the beer in collaboration with @craftwomenconnect and @blackbrewbabes. As part of the Brewing Conversations Project, the women talked about the beer with @theatlantapodcast. And Saturday the faces in the crowd at Pontoon, inside and out, listening to the panel and not, looked a lot more like those in an Atlanta grocery story than in most brewery taprooms. Many more people of color, many more women, fewer dudes with beards.
Kallenberger uses Brown’s book “Craft: An Argument” to introduce an idea central to his essay, thus quoting Brown: “As drinkers, we want ‘craft beer’ to mean something, and as an industry, small, independent craft brewers need to mean something.” And those who agree that “craft beer” is an overarching brand should be concerned viewing results of a survey that finds no strong “life values” associated with craft beer. The data “seems to indicate that craft beer is not as relevant, or appealing as it once was.”
What follows is my oversimplification. For thirty years, beer geeks have complained about how once dynamic beers have been dumbed down. Kallenberger points out that brewers may still be pushing brewing boundaries yet but be guilty of dumbing down the conversation; that is, not “reminding people that those who brewing them are challenging authority, celebrating self-expression, and creating something unique.”
For homework, I suggest reading more about Craft Women Connect. This is not a problem for them. Pomona Paradise is unique, there is no chance it was brewed in a factory far away, and if it is a luxury it is an affordable luxury.
Brewing Industry Guide has posted something I wrote about hop terroir, available now for subscribers and later in print.
There are plenty of reasons why terroir is real, many of them science-based. That’s the core of this particular story.
There’s another aspect of the terroir conversation.
Exhibit A, from “Thirsty Work,” written by Michael Jackson for Slow magazine (the defunct magazine for the Slow Food movement) in 2002.
“Where drinks are grown, they seem a central element of life. When they are uprooted, they can lose context. It was in Britain that a combination of the Protestant work ethic and the world’s first industrial revolution created mass production, placing an ever-increasing distance between the cultivation of raw materials, the brewing of beer, and its consumption. In Britain, there is still a bruised fissure between country and town. The suddenness and brutality of the industrial revolution ripped food and drink from the soil, to the detriment of both.”
Exhibit B, from Sam Calagione’s keynote speech at the 2006 Craft Brewers Conference:
“Today wine is made all over the world but the magic and mystery of quality wine always seems to come down to place. The experts are always claiming that great wine can only be produced in exclusive places and in tiny quantities. They each preach the gospel of terroir. Holy land. Today there are almost 500 appellations, or micro-growing-regions in France alone. And there are numerous distinct terroirs within each of these appellations. It sounds confusing because it is. Divide and conquer. If you can’t blind them with science, blind them with geography. Je parl francais en peu and I’m pretty sure the translated definition of terroir is dirt. The wine world has wrapped this one word with mighty voodoo powers and created a cult of exclusivity around it.
“Breweries have terroir as well. But instead of revolving around a patch of land, ours are centered on a group of people. We operate our business on a human scale and with a human face. Today, between the constant media-blitz of advertising and marketing and the breakneck pace of production and distribution, it can be easy to overlook the passion of the person selling and that of the person buying. But it’s this shared human passion that has always fueled commerce; this opportunity to create extraordinary circumstances for the production and procurement of something new, exciting and worthwhile.”