Due to a combination of an employment
opportunity and visa issues, I decided on a sudden visit to the
United States to see friends and family. It was serendipitous, as the
National Homebrewer's Convention was being held in my old brewing
grounds of Minnesota.
Honestly, I was reluctant to go. The
price was high and with only six days in Minneapolis to visit my
friends, it's a bit of douche-move to dedicate half of it to
strangers and beer. It was my beer-hating wife that pushed me go, her
and Jamil Zanishef.
Him and I don't really know each other,
of course, but during his podcast, he went off on a ten minute rant
about the joys of the HBC, extolling it above every other festival
and convention ever, as if he was being paid by the word. So, AHA,
I'd say it was an investment well paid.
First Impressions
I walked in, grabbed my badge and
glass, then hit the expo. First thing I saw was an assortment of hop
bins. I sniffed my way through aromas ranging from flowers to
pineapple, onions, and even one that smelled like oranges mixed with
ice cream. I was offered a single hop sample and I stared at the wall
of choices for about three years before finally picking something I'd
never heard of.
I walked around tasting malts, reading brochures, and collecting business cards I had no intention of using. We were offered a large tote bag, where I indiscriminately tossed materials for later disposal. (I don't live in the US, so most of the products were irrelevant to me.) It seemed like any other convention expo, until I looked around and noticed that nobody browsed without an empty glass and every booth offered an intoxicating sample.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't planning
on a teetotaler's weekend, but the name is Homebrewers Con. It's a
hobby dedicated to making something. I though the focus would be more
technical, more scientific, more ingredient focused. There were a
variety of seminars focusing on history, pH levels and its effect on
brewing, hopping rates, and water composition. Yet, what I found was
an orgy of beer.
Like this hop? Indeed Brewing at booth
32 has it in one of their beers. Ever wondered how yeast selection
effects flavor? White Labs has a horizontal tasting of IPAs using
Bavarian Hefeweissen yeast, 001, and a lager strain. Did you miss the
Surly Darkness release last year? I know it's 10AM, but their serving
it on tap at the bar.
My first hours were spent juggling my
glass between taking notes and shaking hands. This is where
experience and observation comes in handy. A large number had strung
their badge lanyards through a can cozy, which became a glass holder
(homebrew engineering at its finest). It became immediately clear why
so many companies were handing out their own logoed cozies: to allow
conventioners to pledge allegiance to their favorite purveyors. I
chose White Labs on account of my last name, quality products (go
Pure Pitch!), and that Chris White was so damned nice.
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| Me and my long lost uncle Chris. He breeds yeast for a living. |
Everyone is so damned nice
The hardest part about making friends
is finding common ground. Throw 3000 people, all with a shared hobby
into a room, mix it free pours of beer and mead, and one is bound to
make a friend or two. My primary regret was my shyness, especially
since it was clear everyone, even the pillars of the industry were so
approachable.
I'd left my brewing books in Europe, so
I had nothing to get signed (though I couldn't resist buying a couple
more at the convention shop). Still, I went up to tell both Chris and
Jamil (Everyone's on a first name basis at HBC, except for Dr.
McGovern, who was always given full title, despite imploring that
people use his first name.) how much I respected their work. Both
gave me a lot of time despite the lines. I posed for a couple nerdy
selfies that meant nothing to most of my friends and family.
 |
| This is among the nerdiest selfies ever, but you know, there's Jamil. |
I met tons of cool people. Luis from
Colombia (but lives in DC), who is trying to spread proper brew
practices to South America (and runs a nice looking blog, I can't
attest for the quality of the information, as I don't speak Spanish:
https://www.cerveza-artesanal.co).
Debbie from Austin who shared a love for karaoke (Friday's karaoke
stage was a great icebreaker, as many people started pointing me out
as the guy that sang “Bohemian Rhapsody).
I had a long conversation with Fred
Bonjour, which led to one of the highlights of the whole conference.
In the middle of long rant about all the “rules” he loved to
break and why, he stopped and pointed to a group of people. “See
that over there? You can see three of the greatest brewers and
meadmakers in the world, right there.”
I looked over and didn't recognize
everyone, but one stood out. I smiled.
“You saw Randy over there?”
I nodded.
“Well, the best part is, you can just
go right up and talk to him.” He turned and looked me in the eye.
“You can go right up and talk to him.”
“He's in the middle of a
conversation,” I said. “I'll wait until he's done.”
“That's Randy Mosher. He'll always be
in the middle of a conversation.”
I'm guessing if you're reading a beer
blog, you know who that is. However, if you're a friend, kin, or
random reader, Randy Mosher is one of the most important people in
the history of modern homebrewing. In addition to his constant
advocacy efforts to the hobby, his numerous books have had a huge
influence in the field, including Tasting Beer, the seminal
book on sensory evaluation and enjoyment of beer, and Radical
Brewing, a wacky trip through all the crazy beers from the past
and now, and how to make them. Both books are use-worn bibles for me.
I was a bit star struck.
“Come on Aaron. We're going to meet
Randy.”
He introduced us and I fell into a
great conversation on the Mexican, Hungarian, and Norwegian craft
scenes, among other things. It was special to be given twenty minutes
with such a well-respected, knowledgeable brewer and scholar.
It is a fantastic place to network. I
left with some business cards I could actually use. I met brewers,
suppliers, historians, bloggers, and journalists. I didn't take
advantage of this as much as I should have, though I didn't attend
the conference for networking. Had I been a real journalist, I could
have made more of the situation, though nobody really wants to be
that guy. I did get some great tips on how to get started with a book
idea I had from Stan Hieronomous (name dropping again).
Education
I can't say I loved every seminar. They
ranged from unprofessional to revelatory. Most were OK. The worst
part was trying to choose between so many options. There was one time
slot that had five I wanted to see. Since all are available online, I
aimed for the ones with a sensory element, but I chose incorrectly
most of the time. (Seriously, historical presenters, why would you
not whip up some crazy old world beer styles for us to try?)
The best way to learn was by talking to
the vendors and beer markers at the festival. There were over 3000 of
them. Taste something you like? Chances are the brewer will tell you
the process. I could have learned much more if it wasn't for all the
beer.
Beer
I mentioned this above, but the HBC is
a constant assault of beer. Sure, one can say no, but when else can
somebody get the chance to try chicken beer or waffle beer or chicken
and waffle beer? (note: one does not actually need to try these
things)
The daytime was a bit tamer, though
most had their glasses full constantly. Nearly every vendor had a
sample for their products. The exhibition room had plenty of great
breweries offering special releases. The social club in the middle
always had at least two homebrewer clubs showing off their stuff.
Then to the seminars. These were mostly
safe, until you unwisely choose a mead panel discussion with six of
the world's greatest meadmakers, all armed with jugs of their
creations at 10:30 AM. That was a popular seminar.
At night were the social events. The
first day was the kickoff party, which was a mini beer festival with
a wide variety of local and out-of-state breweries. I though the
Minnesota scene was centered in the Northeast part of Minneapolis,
but nearly every suburb had a brewery represented. Not all were
great, but there were some surprises. As a former Minnesotan who
lives abroad, it was a great way to catch up with what I'd been
missing these last few years.
Night two ended with what Jamil hailed
as the best part of the convention. I saw Club Night as a toss-off
event (heck, I was under the impression I'd have share homebrew to
participate). My focus was on seminars and meeting people. I even
considered skipping it. I'm glad I didn't. Club Night was,
hands-down, the best part of the convention.
Commercial brewers are usually confined
by market constraints and trends (this is loosening up a lot as the
craft is becoming more made up of flavor-junkies in a constant search
for something new), but homebrewers are untethered, limited by only
their skill and imagination. Club Night was a celebration of this
freedom. Every style one could imagine was represented, not to
mention tons of great mead. The quality of the beer was a overall
very inconsistent. I tasted some great beers (loved Covfefe
Hefeweissen, fruity balanced, and funny.), many unremarkable, and
thankfully no terrible beer (however, the aforementioned chicken beer
was a bit hard to get down.)
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| Nobody dared tell fake-Walter that he was out of his element with that phone. |
What shined more than the beer was the
general atmosphere of the event. It seemed everyone looked forward to
this day. Most clubs had a special theme, complete with costumes and
a specially designed booth, like a parade float, only fun. There were
doctors in a clinic, scientist in a lab, The Simpsons, Game of
Thrones with the wall of taps made of ice, Big Lebowski characters,
and my favorite, a booth that was a replica of Wayne's basement. The most popular booth was Midwest
Mead Masters drawing lines for the entirety of the night (but when
you consider how many Meadmakers of the Year are in that club, it's
shouldn't be surprising)
They had to force us out of the place
at eleven. I heard rumors that many went bowling afterwards. Either
way, the next morning, most wandered around with sunglasses and
coffee cups.
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| “We're looking down on Wayne's basement, only that's not Wayne's basement. Isn't it weird?” |
Last Day
The conference ended with the “Knockout
Party,” which disappointed many, as past conventions had a
multi-course beer dinner instead. There were prizes and lots of last
minute socializing. The medal winners marched through the crowd in a
long parade, some armed with their award-winning beers. The leftover
bottles from the final round were being poured for us, mainly to
dispose of the beer in the most humane way possible. They had no
labels, only their BJCP codes. I got to play a game of guessing the
style and also got to sample the standards for the competition.
When they finally announced the end of
the event, I was left with a feeling I hadn't had in long time. It
was that same feeling after a week of Boy Scout camp or an all-night
slumber party. I was exhausted, glad I could finally get some good
sleep, still glowing from all the fun I had, but at the same time,
devastated that it was over. There was the added sadness that it
might be my only HBC (unless they decide to go international). I
don't think I was the only one feeling like we were seeing the end of
something big.
I doubt homebrewing is a hobby that is
going to die anytime soon. As beer interest increases, so will the
production and availability of ingredients. Yet, craft brewing is
something altogether different. According the Brewer's Association,
the United States has over 5,000 breweries, the vast majority are
small independent, regional businesses. Still, these 5,000+ breweries
only control 20% of the market (which is the grand scheme of things,
is an insanely large amount). The market itself didn't grow at all;
it's just a shift of preferences. As the craft sector eats away at
the profits of the large corporations, the bigger guys are getting
worried. Their current strategy is to buy up top craft brands.
Lagunitas, Goose Island, and just before the convention, the
much-beloved Wicked Weed were all purchased by large brewers.
I'm probably a bit more conservative
than many. I don't see these developments as all bad. Here in Norway,
top craft brand Nøgne Ø
was purchased by Hansa-Borg,
one of the largest beer companies in the country, and they only got
better. With more money and security, they've started to produce a
line of incredible experimental beers, and I imagine that these
sell-outs will likely do the same. Plus,
they'll be able to get more great beer to the average beer drinker,
at a price they can afford (I do think sticker shock is a big reason
craft isn't more popular).
If this remains a
relatively isolated development, then we have no reason to worry, but
the second the number of brands in the hands of InBev increases, the
smaller businesses that held strong to their independent spirit will
suffer, as the top quality malts and hops get bought out. Plus, as
these businesses consolidate, so can the production. Craft brewing is
inefficient, but it also creates jobs. The HBC is filled with people
who aspire to be brewers some day. These purchases of independent
breweries are not just an abstract threat the idea of local-produced,
high-quality products, but a threat the dreams of many. It's not a
simple issue.
Mass market beer
isn't just buying breweries. In October 2016, InBev purchased a
minority holding of Ratebeer, an online beer judging site. Many have
abandoned the service (myself included), because a beer production
company owning a service that rates the quality of beer cannot be
seen as anything but a conflict of interest. Just days before the
conference, InBev had also purchased Northern Brewer, one of the US's
largest homebrew supply stores, pushing many to boycott their booth
and products. Now that they are moving into homebrewing, it is
frightening to piece together their endgame. And these acquisitions
were a common point of conversation for the weekend. Omar Ansari even
it in his keynote speech.
It's understandable
that people went through the conference feeling like the empire had
invaded and we were standing at the top of a pinnacle, a special
moment in time when it seemed like the little guy might actually find
a way to win. Yet, like all grassroots movements, they eventually get
eaten by greed. That weekend, it was clear that we were, in the words
of Hunter S. Thomson, looking at a high watermark, the place where
the wave finally broke, and rolled back.
