In the second half of the 19th century the types of beer brewed in Sweden changed radically. The original, purely indigenous styles were gradually swept away by imports from elsewhere, and Sweden was very early to jump on the lager train.
Robert Wahl had a distinguished career as a brewing science educator. But one of his greatest legacies is a book that shines a light on American brewing in the immediate aftermath of Prohibition.
Considering the substantial resources and opportunities provided by the sales juggernaut that is IPA, it’s time to redirect some of those resources to a noble and long-ignored end: the resurrection of American lager beer.
Every hue of IPA and dozens of Stout sub-types are recognized in style guidelines, but Czech beer is reduced to “Bohemian Pilsner,” a name that would leave a Czech drinker scratching his head. Meanwhile, the country is awash with an array of lager styles, more than anywhere else in the world.
Heineken is synonymous with the Pale Lager called Pilsener that still dominates the world. The vast majority of the beer they brew is in that style. But that wasn’t always the case.
The rise (or rumor) of aspiring-professional brewers serving without proper certification will make any state ABC turn a jaundiced eye to the motivations of a homebrewer. So if you’re thinking about serving your homebrew semi-commercially, realize that you’ll be impacting the rest of your community.
While America’s ales had their roots in Britain, they slowly began to adapt and change in their new home. By the 1890s, there were significant differences in the way British and American ale breweries operated and the equipment they used.
No, Sommerbier and Winterbier are not seasonal specials. At least not in the sense you’re thinking. They’re two of the earliest lager styles, now almost completely forgotten, though traces of them remain.
The vast majority of craft brewers make forgiving, warm-fermenting ales. But new lager-focused breweries are taking a two-tracked approach to changing that, making fresh versions of the German classics and pushing American lagers into new territory with pumpkins, coffee, rye malt and candi sugar.
Britain was a latecomer to the lager party. Everyone knows that. But the story is more complicated—and goes back further—than you might imagine. Lager made two arrivals in Britain, each some 30 years apart.
While walking in the woods, Argentinian microbiologist Diego Libkind stumbled upon fungus clusters scattered on the ground. Taking a sample back to the lab, Libkind found a species of Saccharomyces yeast living on these edible mushrooms.
When Doug Hurst and his wife, Tracy, founded the Metropolitan Brewing Company, they wanted to bring something different to Chicago. Metropolitan stands out in a crowded craft beer market because the brewery is married to its hometown’s brewing culture.
New Zealand’s nascent craft brew scene is just beginning to impact hop development and thus most of the older kiwi hops are still primed for lager styles. Our recipe this month is a lager spin on my single-hop test beer.
Genesee beer sign illuminates community once more; Funkwerks brew stirs ire of indigenous New Zealanders; Massachusetts ABCC withdraws troublesome farmer-brewer decision; and lager’s missing link discovered in Patagonia.
The stuff they’re drinking today throughout the region is a pale, light-bodied, mostly uninteresting industrial brew that’s known roughly as Asian lager.
A bartender, explaining the appeal of Bock, told one newspaper reporter simply, “It makes a feller feel good sooner.” It was enough to put a smile on your face, even in the midst of the Great Depression.
Pre-Pro Lager is a glossy dream, a wistful look back to a style that largely never existed. The truth is that, by the time Prohibition was enacted, American brewers were already on the road to ruin.