In retrospect, it appears the Newsweek article and others like it had tapped into a newly re-awakened appreciation for small, regional breweries. As recently as 1973, Chicago Daily News columnist Mike Royko had famously written that most domestic beer tasted like it had been run “through a horse.” But by the end of the decade, baby boomers– still burning over Vietnam and Watergate– would begin rejecting Big Beer in search of more “authentic,” flavorful products..Suddenly, they were discovering brands that had been around for decades: Yuengling (founded 1829), Point (1857), Schell (1860) and, notably, Anchor (1896).
That’s right–it’s worth remembering that the steam brewery Fritz Maytag would use to launch the modern microbrewing revolution was actually built before the start of the 20th century.
Indeed, it’s tempting to think of craft brewing as a recent phenomenon. But from its home in the tiny, northwestern Pennsylvania town of St. Marys, Straub Brewing would like to remind you that it has been “Handcrafted since 1872.”
Straub salesman Paul McGee, who got his start in the business by cleaning out the tanks at Genesee, now spends his workdays repeating that message, one account at a time. “You find your niche,” McGee said. “Bud, Miller, Coors–they’re no longer American-owned. Straub is a Pennsylvania brewery, and we’ve been around for a while.”
For years, Straub made just two styles: Straub and Straub Light. In 2007, it added Peter Straub’s Special Dark. In a small concession to changing times, it recently began offering its beer in cans. Asked if he thought he’d see the day when Straub makes, say, an India pale ale, McGee said, “Doubt it. We’ve got to stay true to our roots… You’ve got to stick to a style that you are comfortable with and stay true to the heritage of your brand.”
Well, that’s one approach.
F.X. Matt in Utica, NY, carved a path in the opposite direction.
One hundred years after it was established in 1888, Matt found itself limping along, unable to out-market, out-advertise or under-price the national brands. Its flagship brand, Utica Club, was languishing. “We had no basis to compete with the big guys,” said Chairman and CEO Nick Matt. “You just couldn’t succeed.”
In 1991, the company took a stunning gamble. Its tiniest brand, called Saranac 1888, had just won a gold medal at the Great American Beer Festival in Denver. At the time, it accounted for less than 1 percent of company sales, but the family-owned company decided to go all-in.
“We said, ‘Gee, if we’ve got this beer that’s been voted the best American lager, maybe we should put our resources behind it,’” Matt said.
The company renamed it Adirondack Lager, and then began adding other styles under the Saranac label. A pale ale, a black-and-tan, a black lager, an Irish stout. Today it has many varieties, and the Saranac line now accounts for more than half of Matt’s sales.
“In hindsight,” Matt said, “it turned out to be one of the greatest decisions our company ever made.”
Other companies noticed.
Leinenkugel, which once made just one basic lager brand, now bottles 15 styles, including the new Big Eddy line that features the likes of a strong Russian imperial stout and a hoppy double IPA.
Schell’s Brewing of New Ulm, MN, (established 1860) has grown to 17 varieties, including the old Grain Belt brands.
And the 154-year-old Stevens Point brewery in Wisconsin is up to about 20, including such decidedly non-traditional oddballs as pumpkin, raspberry and an IPA with six different hop varieties.
“We still play off of our history, in terms of tradition,” said Joe Martino, who has been operating partner of Stevens Point since 2007. “But most importantly, our beers have to be relevant.” That explains how a brewery founded in the midst of the tight-laced Victorian era now makes a summer wheat ale called Nude Beach.
Ah, tradition is such a subjective concept.
On one hand you have Yuengling, which has made beer at its original location in Pottsville, PA, for more than 180 years. It’s so ingrained in Pennsylvania lore that its flagship brand can be ordered at any bar simply by requesting “lager.” Change comes slowly, it finally came out with an Oktoberfest in 2011, and its fans like it that way.
On the other hand you have Pabst.
Founded in Milwaukee in 1844, the brewery can legitimately stake its claim as America’s second-oldest. Further, Pabst markets dozens of brands that are straight out of the history books: Schaefer (established 1842), National (1885), Ballantine (1840), Blatz (1851), Schlitz (1858) and more. Yet Pabst owns not a single piece of brewing equipment and its headquarters is in Los Angeles.
Does that make it less of a heritage brewery? And if so, where do you draw the line?
Does Minhas Craft Brewery in Monroe, WI, have what it takes? It claims a “brewing tradition since 1845,” and it still makes one of its traditional brands, Huber Premium. But today, the bulk of its production is exported to Canada under the Mountain Crest label, which was established in 2003.
How about Cold Spring Brewing? It still traces its history back to the 1857 date when Gottlieb Gluek opened his brewery on the Mississippi River in Minneapolis. But it hasn’t made the Gluek brand for a year, and today it’s mainly known for contract brewing and energy drinks.
Lion Brewing in Wilkes-Barre, PA, is working to rediscover its heritage. Its brewery was established in 1905, and after Prohibition it made some classic Pennsylvania brands, including Gibbons. In the 1990s, it tried to catch up with the craft beer renaissance with its Brewery Hill and Pocono brands—both of which are now defunct. But mainly it has satisfied itself making products for other companies. Today, the largest share of its business is the production of a non-alcoholic malt drink for Goya Foods, the Latino grocery company.
The business guys at Lion, who once worked for Coca-Cola, seem to recognize the changes in the brewhouse and are re-focusing its efforts on Stegmaier, a 19th-century brand that Lion acquired in the 1970s.
It’s pumping new life into the brand, re-positioning it as a mid-$20s craft portfolio with an IPA, witbier, winter warmer and a gorgeously spiced pumpkin, among others. Tom Farina, the firm’s senior vice president, said Lion settled on the Stegmaier name to carry the load because “it just seemed that an old German name that’s been around for over 100 years should get into the craft side of the business.”
Or, as its labels state more elegantly:
Est’d 1857.
