Since Austin’s Live Oak Brewing launched with its Czech-style Pilz, Texas has become America’s craft brewing breeding ground for world-class pale lagers. But how did bottom fermentation end up on top here?
As the ubiquitous, one-size-fits-all beer festival loses its appeal, organizers are rethinking the events in an effort to entice both attendees and brewers.
Often wort’s journey is a short one, moving from one nearby tank to another. But it can be a complicated journey, too, from snaking through a 328-foot, creek-crossing pipeline at Industrial Arts Brewing to a second life in a “small” beer made from its second runnings.
As many of the largest craft breweries open additional locations in new markets, they’re up against a difficult task: making sure their famed flagships taste the same everywhere.
Today, lemony Berliner Weisses and salty-sour Goses are the rage, while new hop varieties and brewing techniques allow bitter, aromatic IPAs to dominate tap lists and beer fridges. Given the speeding popularity of both categories, it was merely a matter of time before sour met hoppy in a head-on collision.
A decade ago, typecasting IPAs was easy. And as of 2014, the mild-mannered East Coast IPA was old news, a relic of an earlier era of craft brewing. But a funny thing happened on the style’s trip to the graveyard.
Like all good fairy tales, the story of Grimm Artisanal Ales starts with a moment of enchantment. One night in Providence, Rhode Island, Brown University students Lauren and Joe Grimm attended a talk on wild fermentation that left them spellbound.