Good Beer Hunting

This week’s guest is a long-time industry friend of mine from back when he and I worked tougher to help launch Stony Creek Brewery in Branford, Connecticut. He had just left his sales gig at Blue Point Brewing, and I was only a couple of years into launching Good Beer Hunting’s studio and strategy practice. With his energy and insight, we became fast friends. Jamal Robinson is the sales director for a fast-growing powerhouse called New England Brewing Co., or NEBCO as you’ll hear him call it. And despite all his previous his growth and success, this year turned out to be a year of radical transformation. And today’s conversation is about that transformation—but also where it’s lead in a very short amount of time. Stemming from the social unrest following the murder of George Floyd and many others, Jamal, himself a Black man, started looking both within and without at the community. He looked towards the Connecticut community, the Black community, and the brewing community. And he started to share what he saw. That lead to a series of conversations and conversions. I’ll never forget the moment Jamal called me to tell me that he finally found the words he needed to lead a conversation within the brewery—a conversation not about politics or activism, things that terrify many small business owners afraid to jump into the fray, but about community. And he found those words in an article by Kate Bernot, called “Say It Out Loud — Who Do Breweries Talk About When They Talk About ‘Community’?” When Jamal told me that story, and the profound reframe it helped him bring to his team, we both got a bit emotional. But that was just the beginning. Now he’s kicking off a scholarship program, with the help of his employer and the Connecticut Brewers Guild lead by Phil Pappas, who is also on this episode. They worked with Sacred Heart University in Fairfield, Connecticut, to establish an endowment with the potential to fund a scholarship program that will outlive everyone involved. In a year that saw some incredible new initiatives begin from powerful players like Dr. J Nikol Beckham of CraftxEDU and the Brewers Association, and Garret Oliver, the Brooklyn Brewmaster who started the Michael Jackson Foundation, in my mind, no one is punching above their weight quite as far as Jamal. This is Jamal Robinson of New England Brewing Co. and Phil Pappasof the Connecticut Brewers Guild. Listen in.

We hear it all the time: Craft beer is a "community" where folks can come together to socialize, grab a beer, and let loose. But what happens when that "community" isn't as inclusive as it sounds—and when you're stuck watching the industry you love tout its openness while you encounter barrier after barrier to entry? Holly Regan is a longtime writer, and in their first story for Good Beer Hunting—a critical, two-part piece called "All In the (Chosen) Family"—they ask the question: "Why are queer people continuously erased from craft beer—and how can that change?" Holly has a background in anthropology, and prior to writing this article series, they set to work developing a survey to collect data and stories from hundreds of respondents within the beer industry. The results illuminate the myriad struggles that queer folks experience in beer, and which the wider industry has failed to address. The idea of erasure is key. It's easy to say something like, "All are welcome here," and proclaim a space to be inclusive. But Holly rejects that simplistic approach, and uses their survey's results to demonstrate that efforts to make beer a welcoming place must be continuous and proactive. In writing this story, Holly also recounts their own experiences with erasure, and how simply being well-intentioned is not enough. Holly's piece is exhaustive and ambitious, as well as deeply personal. They cite the advice of Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, as a source of inspiration: "Ideas are a disembodied, energetic life-form. They are completely separate from us, but capable of interacting with us ... Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest. And the only way an idea can be made manifest in our world is through collaboration with a human partner." This is Holly Regan. Listen in. Note: At the end of the episode, Holly talks about a group they've started for queer folks in beer, The Rainbow Boots Interest Group, which you can learn more about here.

Julia Herz has been a notable figure in craft beer for nearly two decades. Much of that time was spent as the face of the Craft Beer Program at the Brewers Association. Her diminutive stature contrasts with her comparatively monumental influence in the industry: in that role, she was a familiar face at beer festivals and conferences like the Craft Brewers Conference and BeerNow Conference; she helped helm online publications like CraftBeer.com; and even wrote a 2015 book with Gwen Conley titled Beer Pairing: The Essential Guide from the Pairing Pros. Like the rest of us, Herz was caught off guard by the arrival of COVID-19, and again when she and two dozen other BA employees were laid off in June. But rather than stagnate in what she calls “career, interrupted,” she hit the road to both coasts on a series of Vision Quests, visiting breweries across the United States in a safe (and socially distanced) way. By navigating that unexpected hard left turn in her work, Herz embarked on a brand-new journey to consult, mentor, and educate through her new LLC, HerzMuses Enterprises. By leveraging her massive network of brewery owners and employees, she says her goal is to “teach and inspire,” as well as provide solutions to brands and causes that move her. From her behind-the-scenes perspective, she’s laying the foundation of her new venture with relationships in mind, and for the first time, on her own. I had the chance to sit down with Julia—masked, outside, and over a pint—at Second Chance Beer Company in San Diego to get the inside scoop on her state of mind before recording this podcast episode. We talked about her past and future, her work as part of a national team and now as a solo artist, what it’s like to be on the ground during COVID, and how these Vision Quests have shaped her in surprising ways. I got to know what drives her, what changed her, and what she has planned next. This is Julia Herz. Listen in.

Who are you without work? If you went to a party and introduced yourself to someone new, what would you talk about if you couldn't ask them about their job? Work is a tricky subject. We find so much validation in—and center so much of our identities around—the jobs we hold, but what happens when those jobs go away? Good Beer Hunting staff writer Beth Demmon explored this question and more in her latest piece, "Work, Worth, and Wreckage — When Your Job Is Your Life, What Happens When You Lose It?" which was published on our website on November 18, 2020. In this episode, I chat with Beth about what it meant to write this story. Sure, the problem of deriving our self-worth from our work feels especially timely right now, but Beth's article goes beyond the present. She asks not only how we got here, but also looks at who is getting left behind when we equate professional success with personal value—particularly within the context of the beer industry. What's exceptionally poignant about interviewing Beth is that she's not immune to these feelings, either. Not to be glib, but 2020 was supposed to be her year. And as the pandemic crushed opportunities and erased pathways, Beth herself had to contend with her own changing course—and figure out why it made her feel so goddamn awful. Just a quick note, there are perhaps more curse words in this episode than usual, so you may want to save this for a moment when younger listeners aren't around. 

I’m not making a radical statement here, as we enter the final weeks of 2020, when I say it’s been hard. Both for individuals and as a collective society. January always offers hopeful promises of new experiences and excitement, but by February of this year, things had already gone downhill thanks to COVID-19’s ill-fated arrival. That was before Americans had also rightfully turned their attention toward issues of social injustice this summer. Time and time again, these themes and topics are addressed by telling the stories of the impacted people and businesses. That’s true in publications like Good Beer Hunting, all the way up to the mainest of mainstream media outlets, like CNN and USA Today. But the reason these stories continue to get told—and why they still carry such meaning—are the humans behind the anecdotes. In this conversation, we’re going to hear about these topics and more in an oral history from Lucious Wilson. He first reflects on adjusting business plans during a pandemic, and then trying to process a season of protest after the killing of George Floyd. Wilson is general manager for Wedge Brewing Company in Asheville, North Carolina, and he’s also a self-proclaimed “rebel” who likes to disc golf and skateboard. He’s spent a career in food and beverage that began well before Asheville was known as “Beer City, USA,” and he’s also a man inspired by the women in his life, like his wife and sister. Even when his employees and peers didn’t know what to do, or how to process all that 2020 changed in regards to doing business and interacting with the world, you’ll hear him talk about the importance of being a leader, and what it means to him to be able to inhabit a role like that. As a brewery making about 1,000 barrels of beer a year, and primarily focused on its home market, Wedge Brewing is not a household name across the country. But my hope is that by joining me for this conversation with Lucious, you’ll have reason to celebrate one more person and business that’s worked hard to be their best in a shitty year. And maybe the stories you’re about to hear will offer you another human to root for, too. This is Lucious Wilson of Wedge Brewing. Listen in.

Our Beer and a Shot series, made in partnership with Miller High Life, asks our contributors to get to know a city. Each piece brings together a bartender and a spirit to tell the story of a particular locale—and uses the relationship between the two to characterize residents' unique drinking styles and preferences. As a result, the reader gets to see into the heart of a place through an intimate lens—and discover a perspective that's otherwise the province of locals and longtime residents. Freelance spirits, entertainment, and lifestyle writer Gabrielle Pharms contributed the latest entry to our Beer and a Shot series, and she brought together two things you might not necessarily associate with each other: Texas and whiskey. Though whiskey is most commonly linked with states like Tennessee and Kentucky, the Lone Star State is becoming a key destination for the spirit—bourbon in particular. For Gabrielle, who is a Houston native but now lives in Austin, this change is exciting. She’s a longtime whiskey fan, and was the person who, even in her early twenties, felt comfortable drinking bourbon neat. Her perspective reveals just as much about a state’s changing alcohol identity as it does the bartender and spirit she profiles—in this case, Kelsey Caudebec of The Tigress Pub and Milam & Greene Distillery. Here’s Gabrielle.

Susanna Forbes, co-founder of Little Pomona Cider and a former award-winning drinks journalist, and her husband James discuss their transition from journalism to cider making. They share insights on the rich cider culture of Hereford and the challenges of being taken seriously in the beverage industry. The conversation highlights the revival of heritage apples, the impact of COVID-19 and Brexit on cider production, and the need for a shift in consumer perception to appreciate cider as a craft comparable to wine.

It’s hard to tell a story about yourself. And yet, I find I'm most moved by personal narratives—articles that provide a sneak peek into the life of the author. That’s one of the things I loved about Samer Khudairi’s first long-form piece for Good Beer Hunting. It’s called, “(Un)Holy Water — The Middle Eastern Voices Shaping the Global Beer Narrative,” and was published on November 12, 2020. I saw an early draft of this piece, weeks ago, when Samer had just turned it in. It was distinctly different from the published version. Mostly that's because Samer wasn’t in that first draft at all. And that was on purpose.In this episode, I talk to Samer about what it means to tell a story that’s so connected to your sense of being, and what it means to put yourself on the line. A lot of the evolution of this piece happened behind the scenes—in conversations between Samer and other GBH writers, and in moments of reflection about the emotional weight this story carried. Samer’s narrative starts with a question: He visits his grandfather, who talks about his great uncle’s work as a brewer, and asks why he doesn’t know more about his family's history in beer. He uses that lens to ask bigger questions, like: Why aren’t the stories of Middle Eastern brewers being told as widely as others? It’s challenging to be vulnerable, to pull your own stories out of your familial history and display them for others to see—but it was by getting close and putting everything out there that Samer was able to tell a story that connected to such a wide audience. Here’s Samer. Listen in.

Today’s conversation is another one of those times when I feel profoundly grateful that I get to close the loop with someone that takes me back ten years or more—to when a seed got planted, or a relationship got established, and a decade later we’re able to look back and connect the dots on a story that would have been impossible to imagine playing out the way it did. It’s a reminder for me that I get every so often of the importance of doing good, human, connective things with our work even, and maybe especially if, we don’t know how it’s going to effect someone. But if we do get a chance to see the end result—or at least a milestone—it can be incredibly edifying and soul-confirming. That’s not to say that what Rob Brennan of Supermoon Beer Company is doing is the end of anything—in fact, it’s just about to begin. But as you’ll hear in this conversation, so much of the way in which he tells the story of Supermoon involves telling the story of others, and how they were a kind of spiritual journey to where he ended up—even if many of the people in his life suspected it the whole time. Rob’s journey to Supermoon takes place within a community of people that admired him. My own witness to his journey started at a home-brew party threw with some friends. It was a high concept affair that I’ve never really encountered the likes of since. And it showed how much Rob cares about the beer, but also the context and experience of that beer. He came to Good Beer Hunting’s annual camping trip called Olly Olly, which we host with our friends at Camp Wandawega each fall—although certainly not this fall—in which he met the co-founding team from Penrose Brewing, Tom Korder and Eric Hobbs, and so began his inevitable journey into the professional side of brewing. He was a stop of the Joshua-Bernstein-inspired tour we hosted in Chicago called Homebrew-to-Pro, featuring people who had started breweries, or “gone pro” from their home brewing roots - like Jerry Nelson of Une Anne and Gary Gulley of Alarmist Brewing. But after he cycled out of Penrose and moved north to Milwaukee, it started to seem like the vision for starting a brewery that most of us, his friends had, was maybe also cycling out. Maybe that’s just what we wanted for him—but it wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe we were gonna have to let it go and let him live his life. But a couple months ago—something popped up on his Instagram that looked suspiciously like something that might become a brewery after all. And I can tell you that my heart skipped a beat. It’s about a week away from opening. And the beers are fantastic. This is Rob Brennan of Supermoon, listen in. One quick note before we jump in: this is being recorded during the now worst spike of the pandemic—so me and Rob were being extremely cautious—which means we recorded this outside in the cold, so you will hear some background noise here and there—a breeze, some chirpy birds, a contractor hammering down the street and a car or two driving down the alley we were next to. We did our best dear listener, so thanks for your generosity.

Welcome to the Good Beer Hunting Collective podcast, the show where members of our team interview each other to get a behind-the-scenes look at some of our favorite articles. I’m Claire Bullen, editor-in-chief here at Good Beer Hunting. I spent the early days of this year's lockdown subscribing to a flurry of new and thrilling food-and drink newsletters, from Jonathan Nunn's Vittles and Dave Infante's Fingers to Rachel Hendry's J'adore Le Plonk and Katie Mather's The Gulp. My inbox has been full of exceptional writing ever since—and these days, there are few things I look forward to more than receiving a new missive from Alicia Kennedy. I'm not alone in this sentiment. Kennedy's newsletter, From the Desk of Alicia Kennedy, has amassed over 10,000 subscribers in just half a year. Kennedy is a food and drink writer, as well as a former bakery owner, who's now based in San Juan, Puerto Rico after relocating from New York. She's got a book in the works about veganism and its relationship to capitalism, and has written for publications ranging from the Village Voice and the Guardian to Tenderly and Pellicle Magazine. Whatever her subject—from the sustainability of spirits production and the commodification of chocolate to musings on ethical consumption—Kennedy writes with thrilling velocity and probing intelligence, illuminating unexpected connections between topics and fundamentally reimagining what food and drink writing can be. I was thrilled, then, to commission her recent piece for GBH, "Crisis Cava in a Colony, and Other Ways of Coping in Old San Juan," which captures Kennedy's lockdown experience, chronicles the drinks that she used to demarcate her time under quarantine, and shows how tourism to Puerto Rico has so often been at the expense of residents' well being. In this episode, we talk about the process behind this piece, the evolution of her newsletter, and how she'd like to see drinks writing grow and develop in the future. This is Alicia Kennedy. Listen in.