Just ask Matthias Neidhart. The founder of Connecticut-based specialty importer B. United International has a highly diversified portfolio, stocking dozens of brands from 10 countries. “We have a number of breweries that do beers only for the U.S. market,” he notes, citing Duchessic, a saison from Italy’s Birra del Borgo microbrewery blended with a Cantillon lambic from Belgium. Allotting these limited-edition rarities (the entire supply of Duchessic for the U.S. market amounted to six kegs and 80 cases) is “a big challenge,” admits Neidhart. “We don’t list them on our website because we’d get too many orders. We basically alternate among our accounts. But they talk to one another and they find out anyway.”
It’s not just new-wave micros in lands that have not previously been noted for their beer. A few old dogs, including such hidebound traditionalists as the Germans, are learning new tricks to satisfy the unquenchable thirst for novelty.
A prime example is Schlenkerla Oak Smoke from the Heller-Trum Brewery in Bamberg, Germany. “The brewery has always used beechwood for its smoked beers for the simple economic reason that it burns faster,” explains Neidhart, “but [sixth-generation owner] Matthias Trum wanted to find out the impact of oak on the time of kilning, the intensity of the smoke, and the flavor and aroma.”
In December, 125 kegs of this experimental beer reached American shores. B. United’s website promised “a smoother and more multi-layered smoky note” than the intensely flavored beechwood-smoked beer. “It was even more than we hoped for,” commented Neidhart.
Jocelyn Cambier is also bullish on specialty imports. A native of Brittany, France, and former Paris resident, he worked in this country as a sommelier and wine importer before branching into French microbrews. Cambier blind-tasted 100 of these beers before settling on 15 brands from seven breweries for his company J. Cambier Imports, Inc. in Great Falls, VA. They include Bière au Sapin from Brasserie Mandrin in Saint Martin d’Hères, an amber ale flavored with pine tree buds and needles from the Vercors and Chartreuse forests, and La Verte from Brasserie Mont Blanc in the foothills of the Alps. The latter is packaged in clear bottles to show off its pale green color—it has an anise-like flavor from an Alpine herb called Génépi, which is also used in various spirits like absinthe.
Since he started importing beer 13 months ago, Cambier has expanded his portfolio to 25 French beers along with 24 from French-speaking Quebec, Canada. He’s currently considering additions from Switzerland and the Czech Republic. Meanwhile, his selection of wines, though extensive, is pretty much static. “As of today, it’s way easier to sell beer than wine,” he asserts. “Wine has been overproduced for the last 10 years. Wine styles have been done and redone. There’s not much new going on.”
Belgian imports are reported to be down nearly 11 percent year-to-date, and there are some murmurings of a backlash against this Maryland-sized country with 10 million people and 120 breweries that has provided more inspiration to the U.S. craft beer movement than any other corner of the globe.
Has the saturation point been reached? Not with the good brewers,” insists Martin Wetten of Wetten Importers, Inc. in Sterling, VA. He specializes in beers from family-owned breweries that stretch back six generations or more. Among his latest acquisitions is Straffe Hendrik from the Halve Maan (“Half Moon”) brewery in Brugge. Wetten categorizes the beer as “a Brugge triple,” a near-extinct style that’s darker and maltier than the typical triple, and remarkably light on the palate for its 9 percent ABV alcohol content.
On Oct. 26, 2009, Wetten introduced (or reintroduced… the brand was made for 20 years by the now-defunct Riva brewery before the original family reacquired the rights) Straffe Hendrik at Belga Café in Washington, DC. Joining the festivity was restaurant owner and head chef Bart Vandaele, who had recently been made an honorary member of the Knighthood of the Brewers’ Mash Staff, a modern incarnation of a centuries-old Belgian beermakers’ guild. Also raising a goblet-shaped glass were Belgian Ambassador to the United States Jan Matthysen and his wife.
Obviously, Belgium takes the U.S. market very seriously.
