beer

This sponsored column is written by Nick Anderson, beermonger at Arrowine (4508 Lee Highway).

There are any number of issues that keep breweries from turning out their best beer.

Sometimes (read: often) there are equipment malfunctions; sometimes ingredient supply chains are interrupted, or a hop producer has an off-season; sometimes the demands of expansion cause a brewery’s consistency to suffer. What’s happening in Belgium to one of the world’s best-known breweries, however, may be a harbinger of an issue we’ll see more often in the near future.

The Guardian reported recently about the brewery of the Trappist order of monks at the Abbey of Notre-Dame de Saint-Rémy of Rochefort, Belgium — better known to us simply as Rochefort — and its efforts to keep a local lime quarry from drilling into the area’s aquifers, lowering the overall groundwater level.

Popular Mechanics (yes, they’re writing about beer now, too) notes that the quarry wishes to drill some 60 meters deeper than the current level in order to extend the quarry’s lifespan from 2022 to 2045.

The fight has been ongoing since the quarry, owned by the Lhoist-Berghmans, one of Belgiums wealthiest families, first revealed its plans for drilling deeper into Rochefort’s groundwater about a decade ago. A December ruling by a regional administrator to allow the quarry to test the effects of drilling on the local water supply has taken the dispute to a more urgent level.

The Rochefort monks have accused the administrator who approved the testing of bias (once again, the quarry is owned by one of Belgium’s richest families) and are passionately fighting even the testing of deeper aquifers. Rochefort believes the drilling will not simply affect their beer. Luc Perez, a representative for the monks, was quoted saying that “The water that Lhoist will pump up is not drinkable.”

Issues surrounding the quality and availability of freshwater are rising and will continue to rise due to the effect of climate change. While worldwide freshwater supplies are currently arguably good in terms of being able to sustain society and industry, they are unevenly distributed. Belgium specifically is in relatively decent shape, but there is still reason for concern.

European groundwater overall tends to run cleaner than its lakes and rivers, the issues that are found are usually due to “nitrates from agricultural run-off, salt intrusion and hazardous chemical pollution from industrial sites, mining areas or waste storage. Mercury was one of the most common pollutants, with common sources including mining, coal combustion and other industrial activities.” (European Scientist, 5.7.18.)

Still, Lhoist’s testing is slated to begin mid-month. It may turn out to have no effect at all; it may irrevocably alter one of my personal favorite beers ever — the sublime Rochefort 10. Even if the monks manage to fight the quarry off, they won’t be the last to be put in this position.

As demands on freshwater supplies increase, there will be some cases where industry flexes its muscles, and others where the greater societal need will outweigh the concerns of a mere brewery. Something worth keeping an eye on.

This sponsored column is written by Nick Anderson, beermonger at Arrowine (4508 Lee Highway).

Expounding a bit on the last column’s theme of anger in craft beer, this time within the industry itself.

This is the true story of 7,500 breweries, competing in the same marketplace, with the number of outlets having not increased at the same exponential rate, as we find out what happens when “craft beer” stops being polite, and starts getting real.

This is the American craft beer industry, 2019: Anger over breweries closing; breweries opening; breweries “selling out”; kids in taprooms; taprooms versus bars; whether new styles are actually styles, or if they’re actually beer; if traditionally-minded beers are traditional enough and who gets to decide; what’s local and what’s “local”; what’s “craft” and what isn’t.

I reached out to people in the industry both personally and on social media to ask why craft beer seems so much angrier than it did a couple years ago. A major theme emerged — saturation (emphasis mine in italics).

“Personally, I think it stems from the saturation of the market.”

“…distribution is basically flat with tons of breweries opening up or in planning… the competitive aspect of the business is getting more intense… supplier reps getting shadier and shadier as shelf space gets tighter…”

“10 years ago, when there were only 2,000 craft breweries out there to choose from, there was enough elbow room. Now with 7,000+, not so much… We may be near the saturation point… It’s no longer a ‘rising tide lifts all boats’ situation…”

Some respondents found blame with brewery reps, with one buyer noting how they’re “getting a lot more pushy,” and an industry veteran referring to the “new breed” of reps from breweries acquired by larger interests as “widget salespeople… more concerned with their numbers” than the culture and history of beer.

Newer breweries caught their share of shade. One brewer told me “a lot of them are horrible,” chiding owners “who think they know more” than their often more experienced brewers. A former brewery sales rep lamented these new breweries “bending over backwards” to get draft lines, often skirting if not outright ignoring laws in the process.

That former sales rep hit on another common theme — “getting much more attitude from buyers and consumers about what I wasn’t doing for them.” Entitlement came up more than once, with one distributor sales manager slagging those they see “trashing a beer or brewer or brewery because he’s an ‘expert’ because he has 800 check-ins on untapped.”

I still felt like there was something more behind it all, and then I heard from a bar/restaurant buyer, “Economic (i)nsecurity causes fear and anger is a fight or flight response to fear. It’s fear displaying as anger” from a segment of the industry that “(s)pent so long with double digit growth and prosperity that everyone forgot it is a business.”

And there it was. Craft beer is afraid.

Now, dismissing bubble speculation is craft beer’s unofficial pastime — hell, I even wrote a column about it my first time here. What has my attention now is that the call is coming from inside the house. That bar/restaurant buyer ended our conversation linking to this tweet, putting a fine point to it; as one current brewery rep put it: “It’s getting real out here.”

Until next time.

This sponsored column is written by Nick Anderson, beermonger at Arrowine (4508 Lee Highway).

We need to talk about “gimmicky” beers. You know, the ones with cookies, cereal and the like thrown in.

I see and hear a lot of disproportionate anger about them; especially of course, on social media, which seemingly explodes daily over some new somebeer-or-other. Even I found my hackles momentarily raised last week, with the arrival of Captain Lawrence’s Cookie O’Puss.

If you don’t know — and if you don’t, take a moment and appreciate the life choices that brought you to a place where you don’t have to know — this is a “Pastry Stout” made with the ice cream, fudge and “chocolate crunchies from the famous (infamous?) ice cream cake, released to celebrate Carvel’s 85th Anniversary.

I don’t know why this one got to me: If you’ve shopped at Arrowine, you know I try to balance carrying what I like and find interesting with the trendy beer releases customers are looking for. Also, I’m a comic book reader and a wrestling fan — I can’t put on airs like I don’t appreciate a good gimmick.

Truth be told, I usually find my way into enjoying them, especially the Stouts. But here I was, drafting last week’s Newsletter, ranting about shameless cross-promotion and “synergy.” Getting mad is easy; staying mad takes work.

So I took a breath, and as I did some thoughts came to mind, coalescing into something that goes like this: Every beer style alive today has survived, thrived even, because of marketing.

Discovering that the origin story of IPA we all are told is a myth is a rite of passage for beer geeks, but it resurrected a style that continues to carry the segment. Porter was named for the working class drinkers partial to it in the 17th and 18th centuries; the coding of that name, the imagery it evokes, allowed Porter (and it’s offshoot, Stout) to be marketed to all classes over the past century, as it is today.

The paler, lighter Festbier had largely supplanted Märzen as the Oktoberfest beer of choice in Munich by the 70s. American breweries used the name to market a more exaggerated approximation of the “original” style — essentially what would otherwise be called Amber Lager — which came to be known as “Oktoberfest” here in the States.

More honest efforts to explore and recreate accurate Märzen Lager recipes as Oktoberfest releases are a relatively recent phenomenon.

TL;DR everything is copy. Or, to paraphrase Alan Moore with my greatest apologies: Milkshake IPAs and Pastry Stouts are imaginary styles. Aren’t they all?

I deleted my rant, made a dumb meme and moved on. Nothing to get mad about.

Until next time.

Photo via Captain Lawrence Brewing Company