In Catalonia, the nationality within Spain that comprises the provinces of Barcelona, Girona, Lleida and Tarragona, we discovered a nascent brewing scene in and around Barcelona, still very much under the radar.
In the craft beer sphere, story remains a crucial component of building and maintaining a strong brand identity. It’s not just about making solid, drinkable and interesting beers.
True brand loyalty implies an attachment to the brand itself and what it represents. Like Harley-Davidson riders who equate the brand with outlaws and the open road, and Apple owners fanatically devoted to design.
Supplanted by seasonal brands, endangered by the race for the holy one-off grail, and lost in the hunt for more hops, these respected and balanced brands look increasingly out of place in the wider world of craft beer.
For many breweries, a regional, cultural identity fosters the brand’s wider appeal. Paradoxically, that popularity might dilute the brand by requiring a large-scale production model that precludes ties to its regional roots—something expanding breweries keep in mind.
Often aloof, superior and snobbish, new-era craft beer bars exude a growing sense of entitlement, celebrating a self-reverential state of being. They are more about fronting a sort of better-than-you, punk-rock attitude than actually providing a place where customers can feel welcome to sit down and have a few pints.
But what’s driving us nuts lately are those who expect your support simply because they’re “craft” and “local.” But how many local brewers actually support their locale?
Community drinking experiences don’t always have to start with long-standing, brick-and-mortar operations. As with many ideas that shift from West to East in the United States, San Francisco is engaging in a remarkably simple yet creative civic experiment: making use of vacant spaces.
Goodwill among brewers doesn’t stop at the occasional tank or piece of advice. It’s an industry-wide culture that can be found at every stage—from conception of a brewery or beer to execution, to, yes, even consumption.
Beer didn’t always take a back seat to wine. In the 19th century, British brewers were powerful people. The ales that made us famous, such as Porter, Strong Stout and India Pale Ale, ruled export markets every bit as much as Britannia ruled the waves.
Beer geeks, enthusiasts, connoisseurs. They’re all the same, more or less, but unfortunately, far too many confuse these passionate types as being “beer snobs.” Even worse, some label themselves as beer snobs.
American craft brewers remind me of students just completing their sophomore years of college. Having secured their footing, they understand how things work, but remain unsure of what their futures hold; excited to experience the wider world, but still nervous about making their mark.
Perhaps the world’s quintessential and most iconic beer event, the original beer festival now largely masquerades as a beer-selling bonanza for massive, foreign-owned corporate behemoths.
The UK-based organization CAMRA champions the sale of cask-conditioned “real ale.” And every year, Edinburgh-native and CAMRA chairman Colin Valentine crosses the pond to attend the New England Real Ale Exhibition.
Brewers and breweries have long done more to benefit society than harm it. In ages when drinking water was often contaminated, brewing was a practical science that provided townspeople with something safe to drink. Centuries later, brewers are still working hard to make a positive impact on their communities.
If you dare to raise a question about a favored brewery’s latest beer or the quality of a particular brewpub’s lineup, prepare to witness passion turn quickly to fury.
There is no correct way to make beer, and we should not get prissy when others do it differently from us. Nor should we be annoyed when they carry on making a few types better than ours because they have had more practice.
As brewers at the GABF continue to experiment and push the definitions of beer and the boundaries of the drinking public, it’ll be interesting to see what results in the tug of war between the American and British brewing models in another 25 years.
Instead of blindly supporting something because it’s been labeled “craft,” how about we simply support brewers who make good beer with good intentions? And that’s “good” as defined by the consumer, not others who might have a vested interest.
