Top Fermented

Session #43: New Kids on the Block

2010-09-03T03:15:33Z

This month’s Session is being hosted by The Beer Babe and is a topic of particular interest to me. It is, New Kids on the Block. Her summary:

With the astounding growth of the number of craft breweries this year, chances are there’s a new one in development, or has just started out in your area. My challenge to you is to seek out a new brewery and think about ways in which they could be welcomed into the existing beer community. How does their beer compare to the craft beer scene in your area? Are they doing anything in a new/exciting way? What advice, as a beer consumer, would you give to these new breweries?

I’m going to take a little bit of a different tack on this because I am, myself, a New Kid on the Block. In fact, I’ll be cross-posting this post on my brewery’s website and so, in a most amazingly selfish manner, I’m going to write about me.

I want to tell you about my crazy plans to make only seasonal beers. I want to tell you about how I’m never going to make the same beer twice and that consistency only needs to be in quality not in flavor. I want to detail how I’m going to offer a food pairing with every single brew I make. About how I want to steal marketing ideas from the wine industry and how I never want to sell a 6-pack. I want to tell you about how I plan to market to nerds with literature references and appeal to history buffs because I’m tired of beer pong and tit jokes. I want to go on about how I want to use the web and social media to engage customers in ways that I don’t see anybody doing right now. I think that I’ve got some groundbreaking new stuff in mind that could change a lot of people’s minds about how beer exists in the marketplace and how it gets in to restaurants and bars.

But I’m not going to.

Instead, I want to talk about how awesome everybody else has been using two aphorisms that you tend to hear in and around the industry.

Beer People Are Good People

You hear this a lot. Hell. I say it a lot. Beer people are good people. Let me show you what I mean. Click on this link. What you see there are the results of 243 people who appreciate good beer enough to help some lucky bastard (ermm.. me) chase his dream. That is nothing short of absolutely phenomenal. (I should also note that 1 of those 243 people is the host of this month’s Session. Thank you, Carla!) I have received support from local beer people that is beyond anything I could have hoped for. I received offers for help with everything from construction to design to manual labor. Sure, maybe there’s the hope that some free beer might change hands here or there, but I haven’t heard much about it. Instead, I’ve heard, “I’d just like to help.” As a new brewery coming onto the scene it’s heartwarming. It’s great to run into people in bars and hear their excitement. It’s humbling and ridiculously exciting.

A Rising Tide Lifts All Boats

Let me tell you a starry-eyed plan that I have for my brewery. No! Let me tell you first about North Carolina beer. Here in North Carolina, we have a great beer scene. There are breweries up and down this state that are making world class beer. There are ground-breaking new breweries, veteran award-winning breweries, brewpubs, nano-breweries, Reinheitsgebot-following breweries, and everything in-between. The past year has seen 5 new breweries open in the state, 3 within an hour drive of me. On top of that? I have received nothing but kind words, support, and help from the local industry. Instead of competition, I am being treated like.. well.. a new kid on the block, a new friend. So that starry-eyed plan?

I have a clause written into my business plan that says that, whenever possible, I would like to avoid taking another North Carolina beer off tap in a location where I go on. Is it always going to be possible? Probably not. It’s not my decision, after all. But I would rather go in next to a great local beer – and have the establishment that I’m in sell the local option than replace a local beer and go in next to … whatever. Sam Adams Seasonal. Hell – keep the Boston Lager tap, but let the locals roll together because a rising tide does lift all boats. What helps one of us, helps all of us. We’re all riding this wave together, and we’ll get there a lot better if we act in unison against the forces of bland sameness instead of individually. United we drink, divided we sink.

Maybe I’m going into this with rampant naivety. Maybe all this support is merely a facade of good will, warm-fuzzies, and glowing elf hugs and it will all be whisked away by the cold light of The Need For Sales and Revenue, but I think that, as the topic of this Session suggests, there is a groundswell of support for new breweries, even in the wake of so many new openings in the past few years.

The question has been posed in the past: Are there too many breweries? I still contend that the answer is a resounding, firm no. Rather, there are still too many people in this country settling for less. There’s room in the marketplace for all of us new breweries and many more. Beer people – good people – are making that clear with their vociferous support.

Thanks to all of you good beer people. I look forward to reading the advice posted for new breweries in response to this Session.

À votre santé,
Erik

Crappy industrial lager by any other name still tastes like ass.

2010-08-03T13:37:53Z

Let me introduce you to one of my largest pet peeves: The feeling that just because I’m eating a food from a certain culture or country that I somehow need to be served the crappy industrial lager of that country.

Chinese food? Tsingtao. Japanese food? Sapporo. Mexican food? Corona. Italian food? Birra Moretti. Indian food? Kingfisher.

Not to mention Lion Lager, Castle Lager, Aguila, Tiger, Singha, Kirin, Sol, Dos Equis, Tusker, Orion, Red Stripe, Jinlan, Peroni, Carib, Tecate, Modelo, Pacifico, Taj Mahal, San Miguel, Presidente, Brahma, Saigon, Chang, Saku, Bali Hai, and on and on and on.

That’s just a few – a very, very, very few – of the hundreds of brands of light industrial lager made ’round the world, branded specifically for the country that they’re being sold in, and then served to me in a restaurant under the auspices that this will somehow go well with the food because the name sounds right.

Can we stop this, please? It’s sad and embarrassing. Pair by flavor, not by name. It suggests that the beer is a decoration rather than a beverage.

Let me tell you why my favorite sushi restaurant is my favorite:

Is it the best sushi around? It’s good, but not the best.

Is it the always-on buy-one-get-one-free special? Eh, nice, but an excuse to overcharge.

Is it the fact that have the most authentic decor? Not even remotely.

Is it the swarthy staff of Latinos assuming that most Americans won’t be able to tell the difference between South American and South Asian? Well. That is pretty amusing.

Is it because of the flavorful range of sakes? Close, but no cigar.

It is because I can get craft beer there that actually goes well with the sushi. I can get good sushi with good beer. Not great sushi with shitty beer. Not shitty sushi with great beer. But good sushi with good beer. Is that too much to ask?

Would it be so hard for a Mexican restaurant carry an IPA? The food is practically made for it.

I don’t want to suggest that there are no well-made international lagers. There are, and they have their place in cuisine and fine drinking. But the majority – the vast majority – of “international” beers out there are nothing more than the same old crap you get everywhere else: watered down, DMS-y, over-carbonated, light lager. What’s worse? They’re all made by the same 3 companies and just marketed differently. I would be shocked to find out that there are anything but superficial differences in the recipes.

So, come on restaurants, let’s cut the crap. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and guess that you’re in business because you think the food you serve tastes good. So why would you serve something less than excellent as a beverage to go with your cuisine? You can put the crappy international lager on the menu if it makes you feel more authentic, but support your local brewery and save a spot in your cooler for some actual good, flavorful beer that compliments your food. Your diners will thank you.

The End of History Starts with a Dead Squirrel

2010-07-26T16:49:59Z

Who knew that the straw that broke the camel’s back would be carried there by a stoat, much less a stoat in a rather dapper kilt?

I don’t want to write about this beer – about whether or not it’s a beer, or whether or not it should be packaged in a squirrel, or anything. I’m on the side of things that, I believe, would make me a “hater“, even though I think I have fairly reasonable views. I do think that this is the most striking photography of roadkill that I have ever seen, and also I have a secret love of stoats that.. well, I guess is not so secret anymore.

What I want to write about is how fascinating I find it that BrewDog has apparently worn out their welcome on extreme beers so quickly. It’s really pretty amazing. Less than a year ago they were the new darlings of the craft beer industry. This past week, you’d think that they had made a beer made with dead stoat, not packaged in one. I think it’s a really interesting lesson.

Certainly, BrewDog is still getting a lot of really great coverage from mainstream media, but mainstream media continually shows their inability to report about craft beer. They still include things like how many Budweisers that would equal or use wine experts to talk about this new beer fad. Make a splash that will sell a couple of papers or make people keep their cable news on for more than a few minutes and the mainstream media will flock to you. In this case, I think that BrewDog deserves it. They have certainly made a statement.

I’m not sure that I think that BrewDog deserves the ire that it is receiving from craft beer enthusiasts, but I think I know how they got there. If I may:

Over-exclusivity: Craft beer geeks love hard-to-find stuff. Like any comic book with Superman #1 or baseball card collector looking for that Mickey Mantle rookie card, there’s prestige to be had amongst peers for those who can get their hands on rare beer. Why else is there such a hullabaloo over Dark Lord? No doubt, it is great beer. But there are many comparable imperial stouts on the market that are much easier to get your hands on. They don’t have the exclusivity.

With Tactical Nuclear Penguin, Brew Dog created their fair share of exclusivity by having a limited amount of a high end product and by being located in the farthest northern reaches of Scotland. It’s a real pain in the ass to get the product out of there, especially if you happen to live in the U.S. (which appears to be their primary market – I’d be interested to find out how much beer they sell in the U.S. vs. the U.K.). Somehow, TNP seemed like it was a fairly reasonable cost, up front. In the end, I was surprised that the bottle I partook of was only 12 ounces, but hey – there’s a price for exclusivity, and that price was ~$75.

Sink the Bismarck seemed like it carried on the joke, and actually got good reviews, but the price went up. And, of course, this happened again with The End of History leaving most beer geeks to wonder:

What’s the point of spending your time creating a beverage that nobody will ever drink?

and

Is something exclusive worth having if it’s specifically designed to be exclusive?

If a baseball card is release with a misprint, it becomes an immediate collectible. The value of the card goes up because the baseball card company will correct the misprint, thus making the misprinted card hard-to-find. The value of the card rises in the hands of collectors, but the original cost of the card was just the same as any card.

If baseball cards started getting released with intentional misprints, and sold by companies at a premium because of the exclusivity of said misprint, I think that the value – in the hands of collectors – would drop significantly.

Products become collectibles if everybody has a chance to attain said item but only a few do. By pushing the envelope like this, I think that BrewDog has actually pushed itself outside of realm of beer geek collectibles, simply because the product is not readily available to the common man. It’s, “Buy this if you’re rich.”

What I don’t think that BrewDog understands (based on their comments/responses to critics) is that people aren’t angry because the product was made, and most of them aren’t even angry that it’s packaged inside a dead animal. They’re angry because they’ll never get to try it. They never had a chance.

Gaudy Self-Promotion:

I like the BrewDog guys. I think they’re funny, and I think they make some good beer, even though I don’t think they push the envelope nearly as much as they think they do. I was surprised, upon meeting James at the Craft Brewers Conference this past year, that he seemed kind of shell-shocked and nervous. Maybe it was jet lag. I expected a little more Trainspotting, a little less polite Brit.

I dislike their videos.

Why? Because they make me laugh, they’re well-done, and I can tell that they know it. They’re always so fucking cool. It’s not irony and sarcasm that doesn’t carry to America, gentlemen, it’s the lack of self-loathing. Watch a few weeks of normal American sitcoms for a while to find out what kind of depressing drivel constitutes our national pastime (ie – watching television from 6PM – 11PM) and you’ll understand.

Okay.. really: That the product releases seem designed to be marketing campaigns for the brewery and, specifically for James and Martin and their costume rental outlet, rather than to actually promote a product available for general consumption is what irks. They’re funny, but the only thing they tell me is that you’re so cool for having made this product, and I’ll never get it and also, you’re awesome. It’s hard to swallow. I’ll keep watching them because they make me laugh, but they’ll make me cringe a little each time.

Responding to critics: Biggest. Mistake. Ever.

Look, fellas: You are pushing the envelope on the extreme beer department. In this case, you’ve packaged a $1000 beverage inside of roadkill. Could you not foresee that this would cause some sort of a stir? It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or you guys are goofing around. By responding to critics (with a numbered list on BeerAdvocate, a.k.a. snotty critic central), you leave us with one of three basic assumptions:

1) You had no idea that this product or the manner in which it was packaged it would cause this type of response, (which, frankly, raises some doubts about how much you’ve thought through product development) and you are honestly responding with surprise at how it’s being received.

2) You knew damn well that this product would be controversial and that responding to your critics in the fashion that you are is some sort of calculated part of your marketing.

3) You’re just making all this up as you go along.

Please, take this piece of advice from a nerd: Don’t feed the trolls. You knew that you’d get shit back about this. Why? Because you’ve been getting shit back about everything you’ve done pretty much since you opened. Responding only does two things. It gives people more ammunition and it makes you look like you’re either clueless or a dick. You’re the best representation your company has – you’re not doing yourself any favors by attempting to go point by point with anonymous douchebags on the internet. They have nothing to lose. You lose face, especially since you’re so effortlessly cool in your videos.

There are a lot of things you can do when people start to talk shit about your product on the internet. Direct response suggesting that they don’t understand? Low on the list. Real low.

All in all, BrewDog is, of course, going to come out ahead in all of this. Sure. They may have lost money on each stoat. They may lose cred with quite a few beer geeks who have watched this all unfold, but they have received an untold amount of international press which will probably end up selling enough 5 AM Saint and Punk Dog IPA to people who have never heard of them to make it all worth it… for now.

It’ll be interesting to see their next product release, how it’s handled, how it’s received, and how long BrewDog will be referenced by people outside of the industry as the “dead squirrel beer guys.”

Read This, Not That

2010-07-13T14:35:37Z

Here, I become yet another irate blogger venting his disbelief and anger about the mind-boggling idea behind Drink This, Not That.

If you’re not familiar with it and are too lazy to click the link (fine by me), let me sum it up for you:

Americans get 25% or more of their daily calories intake from their beverages, this book is a guide that allows you to still drink everything that you want, but do it in a “more healthy” way. In this case, more healthy means – strictly – lower calorie, lower carbs. Why people around the craft beer industry are getting irritated with it are because of things like you see on the right here.

Indeed. Sierra Nevada Bigfoot certainly is the carbohydrate equivalent of 12 Mich Ultras. You can’t argue with it. But it’s a non-sequitur argument. These are not comparable products. Oh, yeah, sure.. sure. They’re both beer, but in the same way that Bartles and Jaymes “Fuzzy Navel” and Dom Pérignon are both sparkling wine.

I guess what really bothers me is the focus of these books is not about making more healthy choices, it’s about making the same shitty choices you’ve been making, but with less destructive products. It’s not, “Don’t eat that giant basket of french fries, eat this salad!”, it’s “Don’t eat that giant basket of french fries, eat this giant basket of french fries!”

Look fatass, here’s your problem: back away from the french fries.

Quick secret, and I’m not trying to brag or anything, but last year I lost 40 lbs, and I would never… and I mean never dream about replacing my awesome craft beer with Mich Ultra. You know what I did? I ate less and got off of my fat ass and exercised.

This theory that Americans somehow can’t control their own consumption is insulting. As if they’re somehow saying, “When sitting down to consume an entire extra large pizza in one sitting, remember to buy the one with low fat pepperoni.”

You know what 12 Mich Ultras instead of 1 Sierra Nevada Bigfoot is? It’s binge drinking. It’s over-consumption. It’s the misguided notion that, somehow, more of something cheap and crappy is better than less of something of high quality. It’s exactly the misguided notion that gets us eating over-sized Whoppers and liter fountain drinks instead of taking the time to actually eat something that tastes good and is better for you.

But for $3.00, I can’t get a hamburger that big anywhere!

Right – and maybe you shouldn’t. You’ll buy a lot fewer pairs of fat-legged sweatpants that way, Captain Wheezy. Do a cost analysis on your trips to Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and triple-bypass surgery and see where you come out in the end.

So, here’s my take.

Drink This: One high-quality great-tasting beer that you will greatly enjoy.
Not That: Twelve flavorless pints of empty calories.

If anything, you’ll spend a lot less time peeing.

Bringing cans to the dinner table.

2010-06-30T23:45:54Z

I’m always a little amazed by the bizarre cultural dichotomy that beer finds itself in.

It seems almost insane to me that the image on the left (one of the least salubrious Beer Magazine covers) could somehow influence the image on the right.

On one hand, beer is the domain of the 1970′s frat boy culture. Girls in bikinis, kegs, hot dogs, and alcohol abuse. What could be more American? Beer is also undeniably blue collar. At the end of a long shift at the factory, you can imagine a group of guys heading to their local to throw back a pint or two, but you can’t really imagine them sipping a Fuzzy Navel or a glass of Merlot.

On the other hand, beer is swiftly joining wine in the high-end marketplace. It is being recognized for its strengths in food pairing and you are increasingly likely to see someone drinking a goblet of great beer at a fancy restaurant. It’s not just wine and cocktails anymore.

I think about this a lot whenever somebody brings up craft beer in cans.

I recognize that cans are a good delivery vehicle for beers. They are little kegs. They don’t let light in and have the opportunity, when filling, for a totally oxygen-free experience. They are lighter, less expensive, and have a smaller impact on the environment. They are a brilliant packaging option.

But! Cans have the cultural cache of beach, ballpark, and BBQ. Macros dominate the can market and when you think about beer in a can, you pretty much can’t avoid thinking about Bud Light… or.. maybe warm Schlitz. It’s not a reflection of the quality of the beer in the can, it’s a fact that over the past 100 years what’s been in a can has been industrial light lager. It’s like how when you hear the word “forty” in relation to a drink your brain automatically goes here.

I guess I wonder when we’re likely to see this:

Craft beer geeks? We understand that great beer comes in a can, but we’re a small, small part of the market, and even then I don’t usually think of canned beer as beer dinner material. I think of it as “drunk” material.

I see the craft market going to two directions right now. I see it shooting for accessibility. I see it broadening its audience in the long search for market share and perhaps making some sacrifices in image as it goes. I also see it going down the fancy-pants-and-dinner-jacket road in an effort to be taken seriously in the culinary world. I see big, elegant bottles with fancy labels being served at cheese pairings, but that way lies inaccessibility and a battle across the long inlaid roads of wine.

So it all makes me wonder: Can craft go in both of these directions at once? Or will we inevitably see a market segment split where part of the market seeps back toward appealing to the lowest common denominator while still making big-flavored beer and part of the market takes its cicerone to go stand next to the sommelier?

They may not make significantly different products right now. After all, the market is young and while our brewing imagination runs wild, it does so within parameters that are only just starting to expand. Twenty or thirty years down the road when these cultural differences are more stark, will we have two craft markets instead of one? Or will cans find a place at the dinner table?