The best of times

By Mark Tichenor & Bruce Lish

 

Wow. 100 columns about beer. Who even knew there would be that much to say?

 

Well, it turns out there wasn’t but that never stopped us from making stuff up. And today’s piece will be no exception.

 

It’s taken several years of biweekly typing to come to our centenary, and over that time the beer scene has changed dramatically. Pubs have overcome ambivalence toward indie brewers and embraced craft beer as an attraction and a profit maker. Distribution companies devote more space for small-batch American beer on their enormous trucks, and even the rudest noob knows to expect an IPA to taste bitter.

 

In many ways, craft beer has come full circle and then some. There used to be hundreds of small breweries, the products of neighborhoods. After prohibition and consolidation, only a few giant breweries remained, until a group of mavericks entered the beer market like green seedlings poking through the coal of a burned-out forest.

 

Their beer inspired others, causing the nascent industry to grow at an incredible rate. Craft beer became the product of neighborhoods again, and kept right on going. Now, small breweries buy smaller breweries, Craft brew is everywhere, and the New Belgium Brewing Company is the eighth largest brewery in the country, producing more beer in 2009 than Genesee.

 

How lucky we are as beer lovers, or even just occasional beer drinkers, to live at what is undoubtedly the high point of American brewing. Fifteen years ago it was nearly unthinkable to walk into a pub with a choice of thirty brews, representing perhaps fifteen unique styles.

 

How easy, though, to take it all for granted.

 

For one thing, the tendency toward beer snobbery has not been erased. Some people (our buddy Daron, who writes the Cream Ale Drinker blog, calls them ‘hopsters’) still believe that the contents and price of the pint they hoist gives them a social and intellectual edge over those who’d be just as happy cracking a can of St. Louis’ finest. It does not.

 

There’s also the curse of the beer lover, driven compulsively to seek greater novelty. Each beer must stronger or bitterer; each sip must be somehow more awesome than the last. With so much variety and experimentation within the industry, it’s easy to turn a trip to the pub into some sort of Sisyphean quest for the ever more precious, choosing desperate intellectual exercise over a few good pints with friends.

 

Finally, there’s the seduction of revenue for brewers. This is a business, and it always was, and brewery owners should earn as much as they can.  But a brewer who started skinny and struggled may well find herself operating a considerable profit engine these days. We hope folks in this position do not forget the loyalty of the local drinkers that gave them a boost, and do not resort to marketing and line extension gimmickry over the quality of their brew.

 

The problem with a high point is the decline that inevitably follows. While it’s doubtful that American Brewing has reached the end of its golden age, it’s important for drinker, brewer and publican alike to reflect on the power of the beverage that has become such a strong part of regional and national culture.

 

Just as it is important to create and evolve, it is vital to remember beer’s roots and traditions, and think about what’s been shown to happen when the industry gets deeper into the boardroom than the brewkettle. We’d like to see a high point of American brewing for a long time to come.

 

After all, we have another hundred columns to write.

 

Bruce is a certified beer judge and commercial brewer. Mark owns a laptop and likes beer. For more on beer, check out the beercraft blog, updated regularly, at http://www.beercraftsite.com. Find us on Twitter @beercraft. Send your questions, suggestions, or comments to beercraft@rochester.rr.com.