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.
If we overlook all the Americans who moved to Europe and started brewing American-inspired beers there, which already-existing American craft brewery will be the first to open its own European brewing facility?
Like all styles that have been around for more than five minutes, Berliner Weisse has undergone several transformations, adapting to technological, political and social change. It’s currently in a very sad state in Germany, hanging on by a thread. Only one version, Kindl, is made in any quantity.
Trevor Brown is part of a rapidly expanding group of brewers redefining Texas beer. His brewery, The Lone Pint, has turned Magnolia, a tiny town an hour outside Houston, into a destination for brawny, hoppy ales.
Don’t let the names confuse you. Aroma compounds are being engineered into your beers, so think about them the next time you smell a hop bomb. Does your nose detect anything besides that hop character?
The focus on hops at Toppling Goliath has been there from the beginning. It wasn’t an obvious fit at first. Iowa wasn’t known for boundary-pushing brews. And tiny Decorah is nestled among the rolling hills of northeastern Iowa’s Driftless Region, a rural area of small farms and small towns.
When Good People first launched in Birmingham, Ala., in 2008, the brewery was somewhat constrained—by Alabama’s legal restrictions on brewing, and by what they thought the market could handle. But things are changing.
The Julian system is but one of many tricks that craft brewers employ to confuse unsuspecting consumers into buying old and often lifeless beer. Lacking in simple clarity, it requires customers to come equipped with additional computational skills just to find a relatively fresh bottle.
In the parlance of committed tinkerers and unrepentant hoarders, the “boneyard” is where old flubbernuzzer tubes and double-lined samizdat tanks languish until pressed into service. Tony Lawrence has kept one for most of his adult life. In his younger years, it held car parts. Most recently, the garage his house in Bend, Ore., has held brewing equipment.
Basecamp. Outpost. Those are the two halves of Devils Backbone Brewing Co., one of Virginia’s fastest-growing beermakers. And in their short life span, Devils Backbone’s two brewhouses have garnered 23 medals at the Great American Beer Festival and five more in the World Beer Cup competition.
This recipe is all about the PB&J sandwich. It’s based around a Brown Ale, with rye and aromatic malt for toasty bread, and yeast that gives us an English “fruity jam.” Then after fermentation, a helping of powdered peanut butter.
In the spirit of the gallery district, Bottlecraft has original artwork throughout the shop. Beers featured in their special flight offerings are also displayed as art, lined up on small wooden shelves.
For as long as Beeradvocate.com has published a list of the world’s top beers there have been those who attempt to sample everything on it. Why? Because, like a mountain, it’s there. And because you know you’re trying the best beer in the world, as determined by a broad consensus of beer advocates.
Christian Helms and Jakob McKean started with 14 different concepts for the can design, inspired by vintage packaging McKean had collected. Then they brought in typographer Simon Walker to create the logotype. What they ended up with was simple, yet striking.