The other day, Em Sauter at Pints & Panels tweeted, “Would love to do a book filled with illustrated drawings of the best places to drink beer around the world. This is my favorite from Brussels- A la Mort Subite.” And posted a drawing of said drinking establishment.
I suggested an additional idea: How about a pop-up book?
What came to my mind when I saw her drawing of Mort Subite and thought about what her vision of McSorley’s Old Ale House might look like was “The Pop-Up Wine Book” by Hugh Johnson, published in 1989. We have many pop-up books, and this is one of the least engaging. In fact, it has been so long since I opened it that I had forgotten there is only one building, the “chateau,” inside.
What I am really wishing for is something better, with both breweries and pubs/cafes/taverns/saloons/taprooms. It should be a really fat book.
John Duffy recently re-reviewed Molloy’s Last Night coffee and cocoa imperial stout, a beer he didn’t much care for the first time around.
This time he writes, “Looking back now at the original review, it’s not a million miles different: the same elements were there but that sourness was pushed much higher, at least in my perception of the beer at the time. I would like to think that there was something bacterially askew with that can, but it could easily be down to the same beer hitting differently on a different day. Your mileage may vary; mine certainly does.”
(T)he same beer may hit differently on a different day. Not a shocking statement, and a reminder there is a flip side; that the beer that was great last week, last month, last summer suddenly isn’t.
THE WHEELS KEEP TURNING
Cottrell Brewing opened in Connecticut in 1996, the year the number of US breweries swelled past 1,000. Victory Brewing, Stone Brewing, Firestone Walker and several others that would grow well beyond micro-size also opened in 1996. Cottrell was small, but not that small, producing 4,000 barrels in 2019, the year before the pandemic. More than 90 percent of the breweries in the country are smaller.
The brewery will be closing soon, not because of the pandemic but because their landlord is kicking them out and the hassle of moving isn’t worth it. But the brand name is going to one company and the brewing equipment to another.
. . . AND TURNING
Stone Brewing co-founder Greg Koch writes an ode to Marin Brewing.
THE EXCEPTION
It’s been, what?, more than a decade since the Brewers Association rolled out the fact that most Americans live within 10 miles of a brewery. But if they live next to Katahdin Brew Works, it is a long way to the next brewery, like 100 miles.
TWEET LIKE A MONK
A team of college professors and students is helping St. Joseph’s Abbey in Spencer, Mass. — home of the only Trappist brewery in the United States — launch a social media marketing plan for Spencer beers. “To be candid,” says Father Isaac, who oversees the brewery, “the monastic lifestyle doesn’t attract a lot of people who are skilled at (social media).” (Nice photos; take a look.)
PROHIBITION
How American Authors Helped Push an Agenda of “Temperance.” About the drunkard, a new character in American writing.
She might not have used the words “drinkable” and “drinkability” a decade ago, because they belonged to the largest of breweries. Anheuser-Busch built a campaign for Bud Light around “drinkability” in the aughts.
The company reportedly spent $50 million on its “Drinkability is Difference” campaign.
The brewers who at the time presented themselves as Davids taking on Goliath weren’t about to go anywhere near the word “drinkability.” And quite honestly, in 2011 when Dr. Michael Lewis, founder of the professional brewing programs at UC-Davis, wrote “Drinkability: Countering a Dash to the Extreme” 1 in the MBAA Technical Quarterly many brewers I talked to were offended.
He offered his definition: “Drinkability is the brewer’s mantra and holy grail: a beer should not be satiating or filling, it should be more-ish, crisp not heavy, tasty but not fatiguing and should leave the consumer satisfied but willing and able to have another.”
On the other hand, craft brewers “may equate drinkability with preference or liking or distinction or even with inventiveness, rarity, and cutting edge uniqueness. There is therefore a trend within the domestic and craft segments to move to the extremes, one in the lighter direction and the other heavier. While heavier beers are fascinating avenues of brewing arts and science to explore, there is some danger of leaving the consumer far behind.”
Put another way, “As the success of light beers has caused the macro-domestic industry to make ever-lighter beers, so the success of many highly characteristic beers leads the craft industry to the opposite extreme and ultimately, to a different definition of drinkability that drives this trend.”
Remember, this was 2011; so long ago that IPAs were clear, and also bitter. He didn’t stroke many egos when he wrote, “if one looks rationally at the craft segment, what is surprising is not its success but rather the lack of it.” He was, and is, a proponent of craft brewers’ skill set, but not necessarily a fan of their choices.
It sure appears that his words have stood up well.
“American craft brewers have not merely imitated Old World ales but have reinvented them to create something that is uniquely American. I see no reason why the same talent and inventiveness should not do the same for lagers. The old idea of full flavor, flavor balance, distinction, character and deliciousness might provide a clue to the future. The craft industry has already made a start on this journey and there are a number of splendid lagers appearing in the market place and I don’t doubt more to come.”
And it’s OK to talk about their drinkability.
*****
1 Michael Lewis, “Drinkability: Countering a Dash to the Extreme,” Master Brewers Association of the Americas Technical Quarterly 48, no. 1 (2011), 25-26.
Can a brewery be good for a community? Last week the Smyrna, Georgia, city council voted to sell green space near the community center so a brewery can go there.
Economic Development Director Andrea Worthy pointed to the revitalization of the downtown area as the main reason for supporting the vote. Smyrna is within the inner ring of the Atlanta metropolitan area. “It’s different than a restaurant, it’s different than a coffee shop,” Worthy said. “It’s really a community gathering place that invites a lot of other visitors to downtown. It serves as a community center where folks can meet up, [it] increases foot traffic for other businesses downtown.”
FOR READING OUT LOUD
Just in time for Burns Night, Martyn Cornell has discovered a poem written in the form known as “Burns stanza,” an ode to “Gude Stout Ale.”
CREAM BEER
Alan McLeod returns to a favorite topic, cream beer, tying it to immigration, which included brewers with contemporary skills.
As a silly aside, here’s one of several suggestions why cream ale was called cream ale. In 1837, a dialogue called “The Beer Trial” in the Journal of the American Temperance Union drew attention to charges that brewers in Albany sold adulterated ale. It refers specifically to Albany Cream Ale, and a fellow named James, who was spotted drinking the beer by a friend, says, “I asked why they called it Cream Ale, and they said it was because the foam looked yellow, like cream.”
– Crowd sourced. Quite a list follows the question posed by Don Tse on Twitter. One thought after reading through suggestions is that you should know how to spell the name of a brand before calling it iconic.
– Marin Brewing Company shutting down after almost 33 years. Marin opened in 1989 and won four medals at the Great American Beer Festival, three the next year and four the following year. The brewpub also laid claim to being the “first and best brewery on the internet.”
Didn’t there used to be a difference between selling and selling out?
Because this headline: “When Big Breweries Sell Out, It’s Bad For Little Breweries.” This is just one example, and it seems to me that there is a difference between choosing to sell a business and abandoning all that some fans think you stood for. Further reading.
The other day, Em Sauter at Pints & Panels tweeted, “Would love to do a book filled with illustrated drawings of the best places to drink beer around the world. This is my favorite from Brussels- A la Mort Subite.” And posted a drawing of said drinking establishment.