Good Beer Hunting

Hey! Did you hear we hired someone new?  We’re all excited to welcome Kate Bernot to the Good Beer Hunting team. She’s taking over as the lead at Sightlines, our news channel (don’t worry, Bryan Roth is still around, working on new projects and definitely making charts). Kate brings years of experience to the team, which she put to good use pretty much from the moment she started. On day one of Kate’s new job with GBH, it was announced that Ballast Point Brewing Company would be sold to Kings & Convicts Brewing Company, a brewery in Highwood, Illinois. I live in Chicago and I had to Google where that was—and collectively, so did the rest of Beer Twitter, essentially shutting down the Kings & Convicts website when the news broke. Kate had to write her very first article for us about one of the biggest news stories in beer EVER. As you probably know if you keep up with our site, Kate crushed it, reporting through all the noise that the news stirred up, and finding out some key facts that made clear how this sale was possible. Talk about on-the-job training—within hours of reporting for duty, Kate published one of the most comprehensive breakdowns of the Ballast Point sale out there. And today, we’re gonna learn more about how that story unfolded. Likewise, we’re gonna learn more about Kate herself—for all the messages and emails flying around during that Ballast Point article, this is the first time I get some time to chat with her. Along with her stellar work for previous beer publications and her penchant for asking simple and straightforward questions, we quickly learned we at the office were making one fundamental mistake.

One of the stories that I think often gets lost in 2019 craft beer is the experience of the brewpub brewer. All the noise—for better and worse—tends to come from packaging breweries, can releases, distribution, growth and expansion into new markets, and massive international invitationals. Most of that is not relevant to a brewpub brewer who’s focused on things like their local market, foot traffic, keeping serving tanks turning over, and serving restaurant guests a great beer. Brewpubs are, in many ways, the backbone of the modern craft renaissance both in the ‘90s as well as the early oughts. So many people cut their teeth on brewpub systems. It’s where so many have their first craft beers. It’s the gateway for so much of the growth the craft sector has seen over the years. It’s also much more resilient to the ups and downs of that sector. Instead, its vulnerability comes from real estate prices and shifting demographics in their immediate radius—and the staff turnover that frequently plagues restaurants. Brewpubs are another world. And for today’s guest, that’s kind of the point. Joel Kodner is the brewer at West Palm Brewery in West Palm Beach, Florida. It’s been a good shift for him away from the package-distribution-production-brewery part of the industry. He likes where it fits into his life, and the life it enables. But it’s also a weird seat to have at the craft beer shit show of 2019. It can feel isolating and a bit irrelevant to the larger conversation sometimes. That tension has made Joel a prolific presence on Twitter and Instagram—where he shares a lot of his criticism, frustration, and hope for the industry. Sometimes with a sense of humor, sometimes with a sense of dread. But for me personally, it always feels entirely rational. He brings to light so many of the issues that haunt me and others in craft beer, and the way in which he articulates it all usually sums up those feelings in stark terms.

Today, you’ll hear Mark Spence read the third entry of his blog, Beer is Offal, called “Squeeze, Never Pull,” published on Good Beer Hunting on October 31, 2019. This article is evocative—but not for the reason you might think. The subject matter—hunting and eating animals—is heavy, but the way Mark approaches it intentionally leaves the reader in a kind of gray area. Many of us might feel uncomfortable seeing an animal be killed, but deal with the cognitive dissonance of consuming meat. Mark approaches that uncertain space head on, and though he’s upfront about his decision to eat meat, his story shows that there are no simple and straightforward answers.  This is Mark Spence reading an entry of his blog, Beer is Offal, called “Squeeze, Never Pull.” Listen in. 

Opening a bottle shop is many beer drinkers’ ultimate dream. After all, it’s hard to argue with a work day spent surrounded by delicious beers and excitable people, where passion and knowledge for a product can carry you through. Stock it and they will come.  Of course, if it were really that easy, we’d all be doing it. The beer industry is in a state of constant flux, and it seems that the retailer at the end of the chain is usually the first to suffer the consequences. The downfall of the British pub is well documented—if perhaps exaggerated—but fewer column or website inches are given over to stories from the independent off-trade. Since the British craft boom kicked off around 2010, the scene has changed immeasurably, and the independent bottle shop is where all those forces are made visible. Fights break out over hyped releases, six-packs go to war over pricing, customers scan best-before dates, supermarkets steal customers, and rents skyrocket.  The fallout from most industry issues becomes clearest at the point of purchase—and that means bottle-shop owners have a wide view of the industry, and to some extent control the narrative about it, too. After all, they are the ones interacting with drinkers first-hand.  With that in mind, I headed to Caps and Taps, a small, independent bottle shop located at the bottom of Kentish Town Road in North London. Owners Phill and Steph Palgrave-Elliott are present at just about every industry event, tirelessly supporting the scene and its breweries whether in the shop or outside it. By committing to refrigerating their beers, stocking a wide range of Belgian releases, and making sure they have the licensing to serve on site, they have marked themselves out as one of the best places to drink and shop in North London. But it hasn’t been without its challenges—not least of which is the fact that a close competitor opened minutes away, just weeks after Caps and Taps did. This is Phill and Steph of Caps And Taps. Listen in.

Welcome to another Fervent Few episode of the Good Beer Hunting podcast where myself, Jim Plachy, and GBH’s strategic director, Michael Kiser, catch up. We’ll talk about the topics and discussions that took place in our membership community in the last couple weeks. Our 500 or so subscribers are scattered all over the world. Sometimes we meet up with them when we’re on the road, or they hang out with each other, but it all comes together in our community forum on Slack. If you value the content and experiences that GBH produces, you should join. Your monthly subscription gets you access to the community, special events, and exclusive gear deigned just for members. I joined, and now I manage it all. Plus, it’s my favorite place on the Beer Internet. Visit goodbeerhunting.com/ferventfew to strike up a conversation in beer.

Today’s conversation is one of the hardest—and most edifying—that I’ve been lucky to have. It reaches that level of dialogue and storytelling that I think, on occasion, puts the GBH podcast on the level of oral history. It has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with the quality of people who we’re lucky enough to have share their stories on this platform. And each guest of this caliber serves as a sort of searchlight to others who might find their way here next. Jonny Coffman has been a bartender in Goose Island’s taproom, just down the street from our studio, for some time now. He’s worked in breweries and bars like Chicago’s Local Option, and serves as a warm, inviting face to the world of beer for so many. He’s the kind of unassuming and energetic person that makes you feel like you always made a great choice. But the last four years of Jonny’s life—including a long, sprawling battle with cancer—challenged that disposition in the most profound ways. And they did so over and over again. I recently ran into Jonny at the Goose Island taproom when he was celebrating the national release of the beer he helped design and that he and his colleagues used as a symbol to celebrate his new lease on life. That beer is called Lost Palate—for reasons you’ll hear about in excruciating detail in this interview. It’s a Hazy IPA with cinnamon, lactose, mango, and graham crackers. It’s a wild beer for Goose to have made. But Jonny is kind of a wild guy.  In the end, this interview is not about a beer. It’s actually a struggle for me to even talk about the beer itself in the context of this interview, but for Jonny it’s critical that we do. Rather, this interview is about all the things that this simple beer has come to represent—for Jonny, his colleagues, family and friends, and the message he hopes it carries to the rest of the world—as it spreads out onto shelves all across the country. This beer, and Jonny’s story, are going to pop up everywhere. Fair warning that this is a long one—and the listening will be hard-going at times. It was for me and Jonny, too. But I know I walked away better for having heard it. This is Jonny Coffman of Goose Island Beer Co. Listen in.

Here’s an odd thing that enthusiasts don’t always focus on when talking about beer, or wine, or spirits, or whichever hard seltzer brand we happen to be enjoying in the moment: they’re vehicles for alcohol. There may be tasting notes scribbled down or spoken aloud, and we may stop to reflect on what we just sipped, but the pure, biological impact isn’t always discussed when we’re quaffing something intoxicating. The moment you take your first sip, that ethanol-infused liquid is altering your body chemistry. This is no surprise. We see the Alcohol By Volume—ABV—listed on the drinks we consume and feel it in our bodies. In the simplest terms, courtesy of Wikipedia: ABV is a “standard measure of how much alcohol (ethanol) is contained in a given volume of an alcoholic beverage (expressed as a volume percent).” In beer, a serving size is 12oz, and it’s easy to find a range of ABVs, from a 4% Gose to a 7% IPA, all the way up to a 12% Imperial Stout or a beer that really pushes the limits, like Dogfish Head Brewery’s 120 Minute IPA, which measures in at 18%. The higher the ABV, the more ethanol, and the stronger the impact each drink has on our brain and motor functions. In casual and on-the-record conversations over the past year, I’ve been chatting with beer industry professionals about ABV and their impressions of its impact on the marketplace, related to sales and to consumer desires. There are all sorts of scenarios to weigh up—maybe you’re at a taproom, or strolling through your grocery store beer aisle. What are you thinking about? The occasion you’re going to have that beer? Who you’re with? What’s the time of day? In one way or another, these considerations will likely make you consider the alcohol content of the beer you’re going to drink. Interestingly, in many of those chats I had with brewers and brewery owners, I kept hearing about an interest in higher-ABV products. But how can that be? The past year has been full of stories on Good Beer Hunting and elsewhere about the rise of lower-ABV brands, or “better-for-you” products like Michelob Ultra (with an ABV of 4.2%) and Dogfish Head’s Slightly Mighty IPA, a 4% “lo-cal” India Pale Ale. On a monthly basis in 2019, local and national media outlets have been pumping out stories about a grand shift toward lower-ABV and lower-calorie beers. Which isn’t false. It’s also just not entirely true. In a GBH Sightlines story from September, it was shown that almost all growth from in-store beer sales has come from higher-ABV brands, and it’s a shift that’s been happening for years. And just recently in November, more analysis showed a rising ABV level for some of the best-selling Stouts as weather got colder toward the end of each year. So while all these narratives can take place at the same time, together they create a complex conversation about the aspect of craft beer that we don’t often discuss. That alcohol content? It’s got consequences.

This is GBH Out Loud, and I’m Ashley Rodriguez. Today, you’ll hear Bryan Roth, editor of our news section, Sightlines, read an article from our Unrated series called “If You’re Not First, You’re Last — Why Michelob Ultra is the Most Important American Beer Since Bud Light,” published on Good Beer Hunting on October 17, 2018. This article is is one of the most popular, and still most polarizing, pieces we’ve ever published on our website. And a lot of that has to do with the subject, Michelob Ultra. But the beer’s growth is undeniable, and on closer examination, Bryan discovers that this beer took off in a way that nobody ever expected.  This is Bryan Roth reading “If You’re Not First, You’re Last — Why Michelob Ultra is the Most Important American Beer Since Bud Light.” Listen in.

One of my favorite aspects of hosting the chats you hear on the Good Beer Hunting podcast is the real-time accumulation of stories and insight from industry professionals. On a very basic level, many of these conversations become a time capsule: we’re capturing the thoughts, ideas, and experiences of those living in and changing the beer industry. It’s the personal side of what makes beer special. In this episode, we’re traveling to Winston-Salem, North Carolina to visit Sam Victory, brewer and co-founder of Wise Man Brewing. His company has filled a unique space in the Tar Heel State, first making waves with hazy, juicy, New England IPAs while also being recognized on a national stage for barrel-aged beers, traditional German styles, and Wise Man’s Irish Red Ale, which won gold in its category at the 2019 Great American Beer Festival. When I sat down with Sam, he was in the midst of R&D for a hard seltzer, and we spoke about what it takes to bring that kind of drink to consumers, as well as what it means to build a market for modern IPA. Like many of his peers, Sam came from outside the industry—a homebrewer gone pro—and we discuss the dramatic shift in moving from a lab job at a pharmaceutical company to the daily grind of a brewery. Our conversation touches on the challenging realities of starting a brewery, let alone keeping it new and interesting to anyone who may be sitting down in the taproom—including, in this case, a roving reporter interested in learning more about how these things come to life. This is Sam Victory of Wise Man Brewing. Listen in.

Witches are having a moment in the current cultural zeitgeist. It’s impossible to ignore. And, as Beth Demmon mentions, the resurgence of witchcraft and wizardry have a sort of nostalgic feel that appeals to us older millennials.  Beth is a freelance writer, and published her first piece for Good Beer Hunting called, “Witch (Craft) Beer — How a New Wave of Brewers are Incorporating Magic into Beer,” as part of our Mother of Invention series with Guinness. In the article, Beth talks about modern-day brewers who utilize magic in their brewing. They range in type and tradition, from those that practice “chaos magic,” or what Beth calls the Punk Rock version of The Secret, to folks who rely on ideas and practices passed down from generation to generation, and employ specific rituals to brew their beer.  It might sound gimmicky, or perhaps a little silly, but we examine why that is. Where does the gimmick come from? Likewise, the stories that Beth tells and the folks she interviews reveal a level of intentionality, respect, and regard to history that transcend whatever preconceived notions you might have about the idea of magic. And they also reveal a lot about the way we view women—past and present—in the context of beer brewing.  We also talk about what it means to tell a story, as she says in the beginning, not a witch, and how to handle things like tradition and ancestral knowledge respectfully. We also talk about what a little bit of positive thinking—and perhaps a little magic—might have to do with Beth’s recent beer fortune. We start at the very beginning of this piece.