Interview with Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head craft brewery

Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head Brewery talks about his sense of purpose

In 1993 Sam Calagione, owner of Dogfish Head Craft Brewery based in Milton, Delaware, home brewed his first batch of beer out on the East Coast. The local craft beer scene at the time was limited and underground; Calagione was about to change that. He took a look around, checked to see which way the mass beer trends were flowing, and decided to swim upstream. No light lagers for Dogfish; instead, Calagione opted for candied fruits, old world spices, continuous hopping regiments and parameter shattering abv’s to distinguish his creations. Two years after his first batch, Calagione opened Dogfish Head Brewings and Eats. Back then he brewed ten gallons batches, now he puts up 100 barrels each brew session.

This spring Dogfish invaded California with this mighty three beer line-up: 90 Minute IPA (9% abv), a continuously hopped Imperial I.P.A., Midas Touch (9% abv), an anciently inspired honey, saffron, Muscat grape and barley based elixir designed to please both beer geeks and Chardonnay drinkers alike, and Palo Santo Marron (12% abv), a strong Brown Ale aged in massive and moneyed Paraguayan wooden vats. Currently he’s been touring the nation speaking about his latest of three books: He Said Beer, She Said Wine. As you’ll find out below, Calagione’s Yankee ingenuity and rugged individualism epitomizes America’s artisan food and craft brewing culture.

Wes Eaton: Would you give us some back story to your experimentation with non-traditional ingredients with some culinary insight?

Sam Calagione: Sure. When we opened in 1995 we were the smallest commercial brewery in America. At that time there were 800 US breweries. I researched what I wanted to do, I was just kind of a manically obsessed home brewer and back in my apartment in Manhattan I was creating beers while I was writing my business plan. I was always trying to make beers like nothing that was out there. Then, just as now, the domestic beer landscape was dominated my three breweries: Miller, Coors and Bud, and they’re all essentially making very slight variations of the exact same product: a light lager beer. So I knew from the get-go I had no interest in brewing those kinds of beers. That’s when the concept of off-centered ales for off-centered people came about. Basically, we’re never going to appeal to the majority of people out there, so let’s just have fun and brew for ourselves, and hopefully there’ll be a growing community of hard-core beer folk that want to explore the outer-limit of what beer can be. We opened our restaurant with a tiny, inefficient, ten gallon brewery, and we had to brew two, three times a day, that small scale allowed me to experiment without too much risk. I’d go into the kitchen of the restaurant and take some coffee or raisons or licorice root and incorporate them into that day’s brew. Our reputation for brewing exotic brews came from those humble beginnings.

Eaton: Talk about the relationship between wine and beer. What do you want people new to this cross roads in alcoholic beverages to understand?

Calagione: Wine culture is further evolved than beer culture in America. The average consumer understands that an amazing bottle of Merlot can justifiably cost three times as much as a crappy bottle. That same consumer is just now beginning to understand that an amazing four-pack of wood-aged, 12% abv beer fermented with organic brown sugar, as is the case with Palo Santo Marron, can still be a great value at three times the price of a six-pack of generic lager. The West Coast is recognized as the premier wine region in America and the average consumer in that region is more open to the idea of approaching beer with the same respect.

Eaton: How do you think your distinct beers will be accepted here in California?

Calagione: It actually helps us that the wine culture is so evolved on the West Coast because our beers are very wine like in their flavor profiles, alcohol content and their food compatibility.

Eaton: You’re known to many as a poet, builder, brewer, filmmaker and writer – was brewing the key to the actualization of your passions? How do you define yourself?

Calagione: I’m the brewer first; the rest of the stuff is just hobbies. I mean for me they all kind of augment the making and the selling of beer. I write the books as educational programs and components which teach people how to brew and get comfortable with drinking beers that have non-traditional ingredients. I try to teach people just what Dogfish is, that’s sort of what the first book is about (Brewing Up a Business), and then He Said Beer She Said Wine is all about making wine people comfortable appreciating and understanding good beer in the context of food and beer people understand wine in the context of food.

Eaton: I read Raison D’Etre was designed as a beverage that would be the ultimate complement to a steak dinner. Is food pairing always this important at Dogfish?

Calagione: Yeah. Right from the beginning we knew that we were going to be brewing beers that were a lot closer to wine in alcohol content, complexity and food compatibility. The best way to highlight that was to pay careful attention to what foods we recommended pairing with each of these beers. Since we opened as a restaurant brewery, we also had the ability to feature on our menu the idea that for every great food item there is a perfect beer match. A lot of times, like in the case of the Raison D’Etre, we were actually designing beers backwards from what would be the ideal partner in the food world.

Eaton: Beyond beer, Dogfish distills distinct spirits which stress the definition even of “Extreme Beer.” Are these natural evolutions of continued fermentation exploration or intentional directions for Dogfish?

Calagione: We use our mission statement as a dynamic compass. If you pull out the word “ale” and put in “distilled spirits” it still rings true. We’re not doing what the big distilleries do; we’re following our own path as we do in our brewery. In the case of a distillery product like our Brown Honey Rum, (which is) aged on honey while it sits in oak, which is very unique, it’s perfectly in keeping with our vision. Our distillery is 1/1000th the size of our brewery, but it’s still a fun little project that we think adds vibrancy to what Dogfish Head is all about.

Eaton: Dogfish is also known for its historical and ancient ales like Midas Touch and Chateau Jiahu, talk about these experiences and recipes.

Calagione: Certainly the majority of our recipes come from our own inspiration, we think about which unique ingredients will work in a beer that have never been used before. But we sort of stumbled into being this specialty brewery for ancient beverages, and that’s right up our alley. (Ancient recipe beers) are like liquid time capsules. They allow people to come face-to-face with the history of civilization, not just the history of fermented beverages. In the case of our Chateau Jiahu, it’s got a 9,000 year pedigree and is recognized as the oldest know fermented beverage. This also silences the naysayers about the validity of “extreme brewing” because it shows that at the beginning of civilization people were making really exotic, multi-fermentation sugar source beverages to celebrate special occasions. Therefore, Chateau Jiahu has sake yeast, sake rice, and hawthorn fruit. Midas Touch has honey, grapes and saffron. We’re doing another ancient ale with the oldest known chocolate discovered in Central America. Before humans were eating chocolate they were drinking it as a fermented beverage. The beer (called Theo Broma) therefore has Chilean cocoa nibs, cocoa powder and tree seeds and is coming out in August.

Eaton: There is a culture clash within the brewing and drinking community over the ambiguously termed "Extreme Beers". Talk about your role in formulating these out-of-bounds beers. When you began brewing high gravity, sugar and spiced infused exotic brews did you know you were taking part in the next movement of the American Craft Beer Revolution?

Sam Calagione: I don’t think it was anything that conscious. Our motto of off-centered ales for off-centered people wasn’t really derivative of anything of the mid-nineties. Nobody was focused on strong, exotic beers when we started. We were considered sort of side-show freaks and black sheep, like what we were doing was novelty. But again, as beer culture started to evolve and expand, this niche within the greater craft brewing niche became extreme brewing. While we didn’t come up with that term for it, (extreme brewing) was all that Dogfish did since the day we opened. Our brewery was recognized as a pioneer within that niche.

I don’t think there’s that much backlash (against extreme beer.) There are a few isolated brewers who don’t like the term, but at the end of the day it’s not really up to us to give it a name, it’s up to the consumer. It’s sort of an elitist position to rebuff extreme brewing because the people have spoken and they want these kinds of beers. Look at the growth of breweries like Dogfish, Russian River, or Allagash, who brew these exciting and unique beers which people really enjoy. Beer is subjective. No brewer should be so elitist as to determine for people what they should be drinking.

Eaton: Nine years ago the storied “Beer Hunter” Michael Jackson and you spent a day together. Raisin D’Etre, Chicory, Shelter Pale and Immort Ale were already on your menu and a new 30 bbl brew house was being constructed. Talk about the changes you have seen in our beer culture since then and your contribution to this dynamic enclave.

Calagione: In that era Immort Ale was among the first wood aged beers since craft breweries came about and was (also) exotic, incorporating maple syrup, peat-smoked barley and vanilla beans. Frankly, we could barely give it away. Nobody was willing to pay $13.00 for a six-pack of beer, so we had a real tough time. We started as the smallest brewery, today we’re one of the fastest growing breweries, and I think the 35th biggest brewery in the country out of 1400. While I’m proud of all that growth, what I’m most proud of is that we never discounted or dumbed-down our beers in order to achieve growth. That shows that while we’ve been very lucky to be able to stick to our original mission and achieve this incredible growth, it’s really indicative of how far the average beer consumer’s I.Q., experimentation and interest level has come.

Eaton: As you and Dogfish Head redefine the term “beer”, do you find the conventional terminology frustrating or do you see it as a necessary challenge?

Calagione: Frustrating. Not because of a few people who take shots at extreme beer and want things to be like they were 100 years ago, but because our government is very restrictive in the licensing process. When we go to get a beer label approved or new beer brand that has a non-traditional ingredient they make you go through a million steps. They’ve very subjective on their definitions. For instance, they will not let us call the Theo Broma an ale, even though it’s fermented with ale yeast. Because of all the special ingredients we need to call it a “malt beverage”. That undermines what we’re doing. “Malt beverage” sounds very generic compared to “ale”. The bureaucratic hoops that we have to jump through just to present these unique beers are stifling.

Eaton: What really makes a craft beer craft beer?

Calagione: Three things: craft beer comes from an independent brewery with no ownership from a big brewery and is made by a traditional brewery which uses barley or exotic, more expensive and flavorful sugars and not the cheap rice and corn that the big breweries use. Also it has to come from a small brewery, defined by the Brewer’s Association as less than two million barrels (annual production). The consumer wants to know where their beer is made in the same way that they want to support their local coffee roaster, local baking company and to buy locally. The big breweries are seeing the small craft breweries growth and that that’s where the excitement in the beer industry is. They’re trying to co-opt that growth and in essence act as culture vultures and try to confuse the consumer as to what real craft beer is.

Palo Santo Marron is an example of what Dogfish Head is all about. There’s no precedent for it. All other breweries are aging beers on oak, kind of the go-to wood of the beverage industry for malt whiskey, wine or beer. We do some beers in oak, but we found this really exotic wood from Paraguay. A high-end flooring salesman brought us some samples and we did a test batch and aged some beer on it. It has really high resin content and the alcohol, which acts as a solvent, strips the natural oils from the wood and we found that it imparted this amazing, unparalleled, caramel, vanilla character to the beer. So we went for it, went all out, and built the biggest wooden brewing vessel made in America since before prohibition out of this exotic wood. Each tank that we built cost $110,000. The return on the investment in this tank in measured in decades not even years, but we’re a private company we don’t give a shit. We’re not being held to invertors to make more profits every quarter. This is a labor of love. While this is a very expensive project, it’s one that we believe enhances what our company is all about. Will it ever sell as well as 60 Minute I.P.A. or Raison D’Etre? Probably not, but we don’t care; it’s just another beer that we’re excited to drink and we’re glad people are excited to try it as well.

Eaton: I’m excited; I’ll be drinking that one tonight.

Beer, Maple Syrup and Balsamic Vinegar

Experiencing the multitude of styles and flavors found in beer, from sour Belgians to bitter German Pilsners, opens new culinary worlds. Each of the world’s beers at one time accompanied a cooking style and culinary tradition. Sipping on Belgian and German ales in particular inspires me to try chewy baked pretzels, heavy brown sauces and tangy fermented vegetables. When I’m not brewing at home, I’m trying out everything from beer-can chicken to Saison reduction sauces and stout Balsamic Vinegar glazes. The excitement and satisfaction I get now from exploring new and different foods is a direct extension of my earlier exploration of the beer styles of the world. A growing comprehension of the basic mechanics and chemistry used in making the foods I cook and eat and the beers and wines, meads and ciders I serve along side contributes a wholesome and rewarding feeling to the daily deeds of my life. A connectedness is being created where once indifference and even frustration accompanied the thought of cooking dinner seven days a week. With this in mind, maple syrup and balsamic vinegar, my new favorite food interests, succinctly embody both my culinary and brewing sensibility. Here’s a little bit about my experiences making and enjoying these exquisite liquid foods.

Heading to our family’s cabin early each spring to tap Sugar Maple trees and make pure maple syrup has become an annual tradition. The process is similar to boiling up a batch of homebrew, only much less complex. Sap is collected from the maple trees and evaporated down to syrup; in concept, it’s that simple. In Michigan, Sugar Maples are abundant and sap flows twice a year, in late fall and early spring. Using a brace bit and plastic tapping spiles our small group taps 50 to 60 Sugar Maples three feet up on the southeast side of the tree trunks near Big Rapids a couple weeks before the snow begins to melt. Hoses are run from the taps to three gallon covered buckets tucked in the snow against the trunk of the trees. Once the weather balances around 40 degree days and 20 degree nights, the sap begins to flow and much celebration takes place. While the sap is being collected, our makeshift evaporator, consisting of a large shallow pan and two burners, is constructed. To make Grade A, lick-out-the-pan quality maple syrup, all you have to do is boil. Sap is approximately two to four percent sugar, so to get it to the required consistency of 65 percent sugar, a lot of sap, time, and fuel is required. Forty gallons sap, 14 hours and 30 pounds of propane gas later, you’ll get something like a gallon. We have plans to upgrade our operation, but for now, I still flinch when someone asks for a little bit more on their pancakes. Our family’s virgin batch from four years past is still the most superb; the intense, clean, low viscosity, honey-like sugariness surpassed my expectations, an experience similar to my first experience with Italian Balsamic Vinegar.

As a home winemaker I’ve learned to keep my wines away from air, less they turn to vinegar – surely a dour mishap; and ever since I have had no interest in the liquid handed to Christ in place of water. That was until last fall’s trip to Zingerman’s Deli in Ann Arbor, where I was treated to an ordered tasting of aged Balsamic Vinegars. That’s right: they poured the vinegar into small cups and we sipped! Beginning with three-year and up to 30-year aged samples, the flavors grew from sharp acid and blackberry juice to heavily fruited Lambic with an intense, palate-coating tactile acidic sheen. I had no idea vinegar could be a delicacy! I left with a new appreciation, a small and expensive bottle, and a basic conception of its creation.

World class Balsamic is made in Italy from the juice of the red Trebbiano grape and is graded and certified by an exclusive Italian governing board. To make, the grape juice is allowed first to ferment, like wine, into alcohol, and is then stored in large wooden vats and barrels. These age-old vessels (some up to 500 years) are air porous, allowing the fresh wine to slowly breathe and evaporate. Acetobacteria, the secret agent for all vinegar-making, has steadily built up in the walls of the wood. This bacterium, which is naturally found in the air we breathe, slowly digests the alcohol into something new: Balsamic Vinegar. The longer the vinegar ages, the more evaporation that occurs and the more concentrated, and valuable, it becomes. Vinegar can be made at home and I’m looking into it.

These new food discoveries, derived from my passion for beer, have all helped to reshape the way I approach time in the kitchen. Cooking, which was once a dreary chore, is now my favorite part of the day.

Epicurean Delight

The ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus (341 – 270 B.C.) said, "We cannot live pleasurably without living prudently, gracefully, and justly; and we cannot live prudently gracefully, and justly, without living pleasurably." Interestingly enough, the man was talking about food and drink. His philosophy, Epicureanism, sought to admonish the pain accompanying a mortal life with pleasure and happiness derived from sensory experiences and friendships. He also talked about abstaining from sex, but that has sort of fallen from the record in my book. Modern Epicureans are simply people who enjoy good food, wine and beer. However, culturing an appreciative palate involves more than just the appreciation of creative eating and sipping; for as Epicurus himself noted, pleasurable partaking is inseparably intertwined with the ideals of justice, grace and prudence.

Quite contrary to those ideals, what we Americans actually consume is such a confusing mess evenfood experts such as author Michael Pollan can’t trace how modern meals make it to our plates. Like many, I was weaned on dry, bland burgers, Kraft Mac & Cheese, fountain soda pops and eventually yellow, fizzy beers and legless Chardonnays, completely unaware of how the food and drink our family purchased was raised, grown, produced or transported to the local grocery store we bought it from. There’s something grossly wrong with not only the eating and drinking choices manyof us make, but also with how our food in general is produced, distributed, advertised and prepared. How imprudent!

Some personal life experiences helped start a change in my eating ideals: heart illnesses and lactose intolerance in my family, Ebola and e coli in the news, nationwide rampant obesity and the constant rise of food and fuel costs dissolved my temperate ignorance of not only my meal choices but also our culture’s collective diet. You are what you eat, even if you don’t know what it is you’re eating. We are now slowly waking up from this Blue Light Special, fast food, toxin-induced slumber while everything around still says to chill out and eat another double cheeseburger. But hey, it’s a capitalist economy, you know? Big fish eats the little one. Budweiser has budgeted $35 million alone to advertise for the forthcoming Bud Lite Lime! How could we resist? Profit has been the purpose, not the production of healthy and ecologically sustainable products, and certainly not prudent, just, or graceful food. However, as the Epicurean awakes in more and more of us eaters and drinkers, things are beginning to change. Unhealthy and downright dangerous foods are increasingly under the wide eye of discriminative consumers and, as always, we’re ready for next new and better thing.

We are dynamic beings. Our taste changes and preferences shift. For most of us lucky Americans, there’s a lot to choose from when it comes to quenching our thirst and satisfying our hunger. Unlike my dog, who rolls and shakes with pleasure every morning for the same cup of Eukanuba, I scratch my head and rub my belly thinking, "bacon, oatmeal, venison tenderloin and onions, rice and raisons, or Carnation Instant Breakfast…" Lots to consider there, but eventually we all decide and eat. Economics plays a big part in this decision. To be an epicurean today is to base the decision of who and what to support with our daily purchases on more than just self satisfaction and personal pleasure. An Epicurean recognizes that personal health, sustainable food and beverage production and the enjoyment of intriguing and well-prepared food and drinks are all things interconnected in the local and national economy. Do I want to stop at the local bakery this morning, or try the new Wendy’s breakfast chicken biscuit? Did I know there was a local bakery? Can I resist the billboard staring at me through the window? We all hold dear our personal freedom of choice and individual preference, but making decisions of this sort is kind of like casting a vote. Who is getting my money and what are they going to do with it? Actually, my mouth probably wouldn’t mind the breakfast biscuit, the flavor of saturated fat and high fructose corn syrup has been ingrained in my psyche since childhood. That is, were it not for my knowing that those birds were pumped with antibiotics I can’t pronounce and caged so tight they couldn’t turn around. Feeling good about which businesses you support really makes life taste better. Unfortunately, learning about where our food comes from can lead to disillusionment. Still, it’s a petty tradeoff for enlightenment.

The success of the organic, green, local and slow food revolutions coupled with the rise of independent and innovative craft breweries, wineries and distilleries shows we eaters and drinkers are seeking new sources for nourishment and enjoyment. And we are supporting them with our purchases. Such cultural movements attempt to succeed not only economically but also idealistically. This is viable because consumers continually patronize businesses, growers, producers and retailers who offer products which match the consumer’s personal values and budgets. This culmination is the crux by which Epicureanism is spreading from the privileged few to the middle-class many. In general, higher ethical and ecological morals invariably tend towards higher quality food and drink across all economic planes. This is not to say that every environmentally and socially conscious eatery serves first-rate food and that every craft brewery makes excellent beer. Not without talent, ambition, creativity and a sense of higher purpose can fine victuals and glorious ales be produced. Good ingredients, however, never hurt.

The Epicurean then demands a lot of the food they eat and the beverages they imbibe. Don’t be afraid to join our ranks; we’re not snobs, elitists, or princesses. We eat and drink pleasurably as a celebration of daily life. We purchase consciously and patronize purposefully. Taste is subjective, and many factors determine what each of us likes and dislikes flavor-wise. There is no static standard by which food can be judged against. A flavor can only be labeled good, bad, indifferent or confusing by the individual partaking. The more experienced of us know too that even those perceptions shift and evolve. Discovering what it is you desire is a big leap down the Epicurean path. Many of us eaters, however, have relegated eating to a mere daily chore which gives no joy and endows no inspiration. Few can eat brilliant and outstanding dishes three times a day, but we can all start to pay attention to what our bodies and mouths are telling us about or choices.

Big IPA Season

(Dave and Mike of Founders with Christina)

Lots of big IPAs on the shelves of West Michigan beer stores right now and on tap at breweries.


These beers are of a style soon to be temporarily extinct: over-hopped, inefficient, wasteful and glorious. Hops are now fast becoming scarce and expensive. Many breweries are opting not to brew these kinds of beers in the future in order to save hops and stretch them out over several batches. 2009 will prove to be even worse as far as hops go. But take heart; you could drink one today!

Founder's Devil Dancer (Grand Rapids, MI) - The most potent out there. I liken it to sipping congealing jello and hop juice. Nothing like it. Pretty sure Diamond brewed most of this year's batch.

Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree (Marshall, MI) - Very limited stuff. Waxed top. Very piny, sappy, wet hop tasting stuff. Sweet and tangy malt. Almost tastes like unfermented wort when it warms.

Bell's Hopslam (Kalamazoo, MI) Somehow this beer is very drinkable. A lot of people get in trouble with this, I know from experience. The most balanced of all these doubles.

Livery Double Paw (Bent0n Harbor, MI) Dark amber. Lots of hop flavor and aroma, balanced bitterness. On tap at brewery ans Hop Cat (Grand Rapids, MI)

Arcadia Hop Mouth (Battle Creek, MI) Distinct English take on an American Style

Arcadia Hop Rocket (Battle Creek, MI) Even more distinct. Particular spicy hop profile, sweet malt.

Stone Ruination (San Diego, CA) On the lighter side of the others listed here. Strong bitterness, easy drink-ability.

HE'BREW Lenny's Rye (Saratoga Springs, NY) Bittersweet, strong malt ans hop aromatics. Rye spiciness

Bitter Tony's Rye Bitter (Ann Arbor, MI) is flavorful session beer brewed with rye malt and lots of American Hops. (taken from website)

2008 MBG Winter Beer Festival

(Photos by Celia Kubiak except the top one which I took)

This past Saturday Feb 23rd the Michigan Brewer's Guild held their 3rd annual Winter Beer Festival at 5/3 Ballpark in Grand Rapids. Quite a bit different from the last two, which took place in one very large tent in Old Town Lansing, this year's event spanned the upper and lower decks of the ballpark, the concourse and pavilion. The spacious layout still managed to conjure up crowds, however, there were no crammed corners like at last year's event.

Beerfests are a lot of fun, in an intense, concentrated way. Here's how it went for me: I went to bed Friday night, woke up Saturday, had some breakfast, went to the beerfest, went home, ate dinner and the day was over. I woke up Sunday wondering where the weekend had gone. Before my coffee was finished perking in the pot Sunday morning I had already read some negative reviews posted by BA members on the beeradvocate website and I say "Boo hoo". It was icy, It was cold, the restrooms were crowded. These things I expected, possibly why they did not bother me. For one, it was very cold until the sun came out after 2pm or so. This, however, encouraged me to start drinking bigger beers earlier than I may have had it been warmer. So after the obvious quick samples of Night Tripper from New Holland, Curmudgeon Old Ale from Founders and Rich's Ice Rye from Short's, I got down to business.

Rochester Mill's Batch 1000 Barleywine snapped the chill from my toes and properly adjusted my mentality. Much ice was below my feet, snow was on the baseball field and the sun was shining on the numerous tiered tents. Crowds ebbed and flowed, green horns and pundits scowled and delighted, beer fans crossed their legs and danced while in line to the ubiquitiously lacking porta-johns. I introduced myself to someone I already knew and made a small fool of myself babbling to a brewer I admire. This is what the thing is all about.

It was very nice to see many of the faces I have meet over the course of my brewery travels. Friends from Bellaire, Warren, Marshall, Hastings, Detroit, Ann Arbor and Webberville. I recognized it was a long day for these out-of-towners. Getting there early and setting up the booths, not to mention organizing the event at this venue, cheers to all the work, time, and sleep given up to make this event such a success! Thinking about this made me both a little sleepy and hungry. I needed a quick one-two punch to get back in the drinking game: enter Sam Sherwood's (Walldorff) Smoked Ale and Kuhnhenn's Lambic, neither of which were listed in the handout. Bam! Mouth was cleared out, wife was happily sipping, and hunger cured.

Beyond the beer geeks and hop heads that usually patronize such a gathering, all other kinds of folks showed up to the sold out event, plenty of who knew not what they were getting into. Anyone with the ability to embrace the unexpected, however, probably had a great time. I overheard many people say "Mai Bock", "Barleywine", "Kolsch" and "Dunkel Weisse" for what sounded like the first time. The good thing was, a smile accompanied most every virgin sip

Short's Brewery of Bellaire, MI

During the years before Prohibition effectively decommissioned small scale and regional breweries in Michigan and across the nation, nearly every Michigan town with a bakery, post office, butcher and grocer had a brewery. Since the late 1980’s, our history of once multiple small breweries has made much more than a comeback; craft brewed Michigan beer is now widely available across the state, and with breweries such asBell’s, New Holland, and Founders, Michigan brewed beer is now readily available in as many as 13 states with new markets being explored daily. Another indicator of craft beer’s exploding success, beyond the constant growth of their distribution and overall market share, is the attempts global and domestic beer producers make to imitate the persona of craft brewed beer. Imitation, however, is the ultimate flattery!

With this backdrop of brewing history in mind, let us consider the future. Many of the most successful Michigan breweries have by now celebrated at least their 10th anniversary. A class of demanding and critical people who consider themselves “good beer drinkers” has emerged, supporting an entire media front dedicated to their interests. Specialty, seasonal, tie-in, high gravity, anniversary, and batch series-limited edition-hand capped- foiled and corked -barrel and gypsum mine aged beers are spilling off the shelves of every decent beer store and brew pub south of the 45th parallel. Have we Michigan beer drinkers reached our maximum sensory capacity? Are there now actually more beers available than we could feasibly sample before the next season’s specialties hit the floors? Is there room for anymore?

Passionate brewers, like passionate song writers and authors, rarely consider if there is room for their work; they are too busy producing their art to question rather they can secure their slice of the potential market pie. Twenty-eight year old Joe Short, of the three and a half year old Short’s Brewing of Bellaire (between Charlevoix and Traverse City), is just that kind of man. Operating out of a small town full of “retired republicans” in the middle of one of the most competitive and growing craft beer states, Short has managed to brew a reputation which sets his beers on tier with the best of what Michigan has to offer.

Over the last few years, friends and colleagues of Short’s have whispered tales of daring brewing feats and inconceivable recipe formulations. Stories of a young former home brewer turned professional building a new microbrewery in Northern Michigan spread statewide soon followed by maddening tales of triple mashed, triple hopped, triple boiled delicacies and tomato and spiced infused imperials! It was about time I got up there to try some beers, so I convinced my newly wedded wife to let us make it an important stop on our honeymoon tour of the Leelanau region.

We arrived in Bellaire Friday night of Labor Day weekend and planned to spend the night in a friend and employee’s apartment above the brewery. The regulars at the bar were excited to see so many new faces; it wasn’t five minutes before a loyal local began doting on cooking uses for the smoked apple ale and a few other favorites. My quick first impression was that the care and love with which Short brews his beer is evident in both his passionate fans and patrons and even in the fastidious wood, glass and tile work in the pub. As owner and proprietor, Shorts enlisted construction craftsmen as dedicated in their professions as he, and the product is extraordinary. Mosaics on the bar and floors, stained glass windows and a handcrafted stage all enhanced the overall artisan aesthetic exuded in the place. Even the mug clubber’s beer mugs were made by hand, each spun on a potter’s wheel and glazed with the Short’s logo.

Bartender Jeremy Dicks quickly filled a sampler platter for my wife and poured me a pint of the already famous Huma-Lupa-Licious IPA, which exhibited admittedly more hops than reasonably necessary, and then a Pandemonium Pale which features the stellar Glacier hop variety and has a much higher degree of drinkability. The sampler included all Short’s beers made with fruit: the Nicie Spicy wheat ale, Soft Parade (9% fruit rye ale), Black Cherry porter, Life’s Tuition and Purple Rain. She finished each before going on to the next. Not having contacted Short about my planned visit, I didn’t expect him to take the time, especially on a holiday weekend, for me to gawk and prate. However, Short’s Brewery delicatessen manager and friend Joe Wojtowicz eagerly sent me down stairs to the brewing studio. Short makes beer on a 9 barrel system and ferments in both horizontal and conical tanks lined up within a well ventilated and ergonomic brew house. Embracing his home brewing spirit, Short experiments with ingredients and techniques more familiar to chefs than brewers; multiple smaller brewing kettles, powered mixers, kitchen knives and colanders were obviously standard equipment for Short. While I was there, Short was running some boiled and cooled wort through a giant bag of hops on its way to the fermenter (like there weren’t enough added to the boil.) We talked about his success with unorthodox recipes and ingredients, such as the horseradish and dill added to his tomato based Bloody Beer and the toasted pecans and maple syrup in the Woodmaster Imperial Brown Ale. What intrigued me most is not only is Short creating original and fearless brews, but they’re actually completely enjoyable to drink! This guy put sunflower seeds, peppercorns, and carob in his brews, not to mention enough other craziness to complete a twelve beer imperial series, had each batch hand capped, and released the whole deal accompanied with complimentary food dishes. This was only two months after the second anniversary party which he commemorated with 4 variations on the Double IPA (one of which was fermented on grapefruits inside a bourbon barrel!) Short was patient enough to tell me about these experiments even after a 16 hour day of brewing.

As I headed back to the tap room through the elevated grain room (Short uses all Wisconsin malt), bighearted gifts of limited beers in hand, Short told me he’d be up to enjoy a beer in a minute. A scant 2 hours later he finally emerged, took up a pint, and began to mingle with the people. Check out Michigan’s brewing future at www.shortsbrewing.com.

Eastside Love

Not every great beer brewed in Michigan is put into bottles; many breweries and brewpubs by definition serve their wares exclusively at their own establishment. Successfully packaging beer is not easy, and for some brewers it is simply not in their business plan. Other breweries may bottle a few select products and others still may bottle many flagship offerings but still yield on packaging experimental and small batch selections. So if you’d like to taste the widest array of Michigan’s offerings, you are going to have to drive.

While planning a brewery tour, one should drink beer, so we headed to Ken McPhail’s Hideout Brewery for the proper libations before setting out. The goal: one weekend, six breweries; good thing it was only Thursday. With ten beers on tap, the Hideout was the perfect place to practice sampling etiquette and prepare for the rigorous pace we were setting for ourselves.

Upon entering a brewery new to you, don’t be shy. Ask the bartender’s name, introduce yourself and ask them their favorite beer. Liesl was pouring the night we visited the Hideout and she was happy to pour us sample trays of each offering, definitely the best way to experience a brewery. To get acclimated, I started with the Purple Gang Pilsner. My wife primed with the Grand River Wheat. The beers were clean with a high degree of drinkability and we moved through the ten samples after which I drink a pint of Bootleg IPA. The room feels like you’re somewhere north of Gaylord, not just off Plainfield Avenue. Look for Bootleg IPA downtown also, on tap at the new Hop Cat.

The following afternoon we left for Ann Arbor. Growlers in tow, we planned first for dinner and drinks at Grizzly Peak. Only a short walk from a well lit parking ramp, Grizzly Peak is known for its food as well as its brews, offering a domestic bottle selection along with wine and liquor. The mainline beers, once brewed by Jolly Pumpkin’s Ron Jefferies, tasted clean and simple with our plate of steamed mussels. Of the specialties Draconus, a strong Belgian style, seemed a little under-attenuated and sweet, however, the two hand-pull Real Ale (unfiltered beer which is naturally carbonated and served from a cask) offerings were authentic and dutifully poured.

Conveniently enough, Arbor Brewing is only a short walk down the block. The brewers at Arbor profess to “respect styles and traditions without being a slave to them,” as exemplified by their distinct take on German and Belgian style ales. Not to be confused with the Corner Micro Brewery of Ypsilanti, Arbor beer is brewed on premise and sold exclusively at this location, so be careful to distinguish between the bottled products available statewide and the beers on tap in Ann Arbor.

Like Grizzly Peak, Arbor offered two selections on hand-pull and many others on draught. One should expect hand-pull or cask beer to be served warmer than draught with gentler carbonation. I started with the Sacred Cow IPA Real Ale which was fruity and distinguished, balancing malt with a distinct hoppy flavor and aromatic profile contrary to most bitter bottled IPAs. I ended the night with a dark and crisp Olde Number 22 German Alt as the college crowd kept pouring in. Arbor also took care to pour their offerings into proper style glassware, goblet for Belgian styles, pints for others.

The next morning we headed to Warren for Kuhnhenn and Dragonmead micro breweries. The wait staff at Kuhnhenn was kind enough to allow us to eat our Zingermann’s lunch inside after our hasty drive. A sampler was brought and we soon dove in, really enjoying the fresh hop and sweet malt of Loonie Kuhnie Pale Ale, bed sheet white and floral Michigan Wit and the pine, citrus, banana and bubblegum laced Simcoe Silly.

As we tasted, home brewers arrived to bottle beer they had previously brewed on premise with the founder and head brewer himself, Eric Kuhnhenn. I made my acquaintance and Kuhnhenn obliged me with a complete tour of brew house and cellar. Kuhnhenn talked about the growing popularity of their beers, spurred on by both creative and iconoclastic recipes and techniques, such as their renowned Raspberry Eisbock, and statewide exposure during the winter and summer beer festivals.

The brewery was very alive. Carboys filled every cranny and fermenters were sometimes stacked upon each other. Batch sizes ranged from 15 bbls to 3 gallons. Down in the basement, 55 gallon oak barrels held more than just ales; red wines pressed from imported grapes were ageing next to rows and rows of Meads, Melomels and Cysers, many of which were for sale upstairs in the cooler. Kuhnhenn tells me they are busy enough to have added a new assistant brewer, Wayne Burns formerly of Bo’s Brewery in Pontiac, who is an expert in the area of extremely high gravity ales and lagers. I’m looking forward to sampling his future contributions.
Another short drive led us to Dragonmead. Situated directly off the expressway, the medieval themed taproom offered on tap over 40 of their own beers! Jennifer, who has been with the brewery for ten years, guided us through the German, English, Belgian and Scottish style ales via flights of sampler trays. The beers were precise clones of their European counterparts and, as a whole, by far the most impressive thus far on the tour. Contrary to Kuhnhenn and many West Michigan breweries, Dragonmead’s products rely heavily upon malt and yeast profiles as opposed to hops. It’s hard to believe this highly awarded microbrewery ferments just 3 barrels at a time! A few select styles, such as Final Absolution Belgian Tripel are bottled and distributed statewide, but I couldn’t resist taking home a growler of London Brown Ale.

Now Sunday had finally arrived, but we had one more stop: Webberville and Michigan Brewing Company. The entire facility had recently moved into its new and massive home with adjoined taproom and production facility. MBC is the largest Micro Brewery in the state, I was informed, and from the looks of the cavernous warehouse, they weren’t lying. Daniel Palmer, a new employee who was staffing the in-house homebrew shop, was kind enough to take us behind the bar and into the gigantic brewery where I was confronted with many thousands of square feet of brew house, fermenters, packaging operations, distilling equipment and one fully operational bio diesel production system. Palmer told me most employees ride bikes to get around the place. The potential for growth here is astounding and I’m keeping tabs on their future plans. Most exciting about the present is their partnerships with Michigan State University in the areas of green fuel production and, unrelated, distilling. It seems that through this partnership, MSU can conduct research and explore technology otherwise inaccessible on campus.
Back in the taproom we ordered up yet another tray of samples. I sipped the Bourbon Barrel Aged Porter and Imperial Stout, the first to have been brewed with steam harnessed from the bio fuel, and also tasted the IPA. The full Celis line of beers was also available on tap and in the bottle. It was a slow drive home.

Info about all of the breweries mentioned above at: http://michiganbrewersguild.org/

Originally published February 2008 in Recoil Magazine