Blog Entries Tagged as hops

The Teacher Has Become the Student

Category: General Blogs  |  Tags: hops

My wife and I just went on what was quite possibly the best brewery tour we'd ever been on (and believe me, we've been on a lot of them). It was at London's Meantime Brewing Company, a 13-year-old craft operation that takes its name from the fact that it's situated in the chronological capital of the world, Greenwich.

When tour leader Alex (a quite dynamic guide) learned we were from the States he couldn't stop gushing about the U.S. craft beer scene and how the U.K. is about 15 years behind the American movement. Wait a minute. BEHIND? A great deal of American craft brewers took a cue from classic styles from Britain (as well as, of course, Belgium, Germany and the Czech Republic) when developing their own products. Beer travelers from the U.S. trek across the pond to drink cask-conditioned Real Ale. And a lot of the U.S. craft brewers offer cask versions of their own products, again a nod to the classic British tradition.

But now there are breweries like Meantime whose offerings are heavily influenced by the styles popularized by American craft brewers—those same styles whose ancestors were European and tweaked and reinvented over time. American pale ale is of course a descendant of English pale ale. The same goes, of course for American IPAs, which evolved from British India Pale Ales, which were more aggressively hopped and had a higher ABV to preserve them for the 18,000-mile pre-canal-era voyage from England to thirsty colonial troops in India.

The walls of Meantime's tasting room were filled with bottles from around the world with a disproportionately large section devoted to U.S. craft brews. Others visiting the brewery were eager to tell us how much they loved beers from the likes Brooklyn Brewery or Stone.

And it's not just the U.K. The brewing boomerang has flown back to Belgium as well, with U.S.-influenced styles like Belgian IPA emerging.

It's hard to believe that not too long ago Europeans considered American beers a total joke. But who's laughing now?

Hidden in the New Mexico desert is a beeritual oasis.

Category: General Blogs  |  Tags: hops

After my trip to Brau Beviale in Nuremberg, Germany (watch this space for the video in a few weeks), I decided to spend a few days in one of my all-time favorite countries, Belgium. The greatest allure, of course, is its brewing culture, rooted in centuries-old tradition. Belgians, in large part, have the monks to thank for that tradition and many in the brotherhood are still brewing at Trappist monasteries. 

Soaking in the Belgian beer vibe got me thinking about another recent trip I took and how I've yet to post anything about it. (It was in early July, a month that turned out to be quite dizzyingly surreal for those of us at Beverage World for reasons I needn't expound on in the blogosphere).

On a long holiday weekend in New Mexico, my wife and I decided to check out a Benedictine monastery, on the grounds of which the brothers run a small brewery. The two beers brewed are available commercially (with the help of a contract brewer), mostly in the U.S. Southwest, as, appropriately enough, Monks' Ale and Monks' Wit.

The Monastery of Christ in the Desert is quite literally an oasis in the desert. Finding it involves a journey of Indiana Jonesian proportions. Once we found the exit for the brewery/abbey off of a rural highway--driving through thick plumes of smoke from New Mexico's summer wildfires--the destination was still 13 miles away. Doesn't sound like a lot, but I neglected to mention that it's 13 miles on a dirt road on the side of the mountain…with no guard rail! 

As we crawled along at about nine miles per hour we reassured ourselves that it would be fine as long as it didn't rain. Much of the state was an inferno because of the lack of rain, so what chance was there that we'd happen upon a summer shower? Spoke to soon, of course, as the sky quickly turned gray and the first few liquid specks began to dot the windshield of our rental car. (When I picked up the car at the Albuquerque Airport rental office, the rental agent gave me a kind of "Are you sure?" look when I said I wanted a compact car. I thought he was just trying to upsell me to an SUV. Oh well, live and learn.)

Needless to say, we got there in one piece and it was quite a charming compound. Since it's so remote, fuel has to be pumped on site. The monks even grow their own hops. The community is pretty much the picture of self-sufficiency. We were greeted enthusiastically by Brother Bernard and the lay staff, general manager Berkeley Merchant and brew master Brad Kraus, in the brew house, who let us hover over them as they brewed. 

As an added bonus, just as we were about to leave, a bell rang and the brothers quickly assembled in chapel to commence a 10-minute Gregorian chanting session. Did I mention this was in the middle of New Mexico?

The point of my story is that it's a story. That's what the beverage business is about, stories and journeys. The story behind a product is often as appealing as the brand itself and is often what distinguishes one product from another in a cluttered marketplace. And it's critical to lead consumers on that journey to discover the story, which, ultimately, translates to brand loyalty.