It’s also true that Slow Boat has slightly different ambitions from Great Leap. While Setzer makes wacky China-accented brews, Dan Hebert is happy to make the straight-down-the-line United States classics he loves. “Growing up in Oregon, that’s what I know,” he says. “Because they’re exotic, the beers appeal to Chinese on that level alone.”
Perhaps more importantly, Jurinka and Hebert are hoping a long search for their own bar will result in a more polished, Western-style venue than Great Leap’s—“a bar/restaurant that wouldn’t be out of place in the Pacific Northwest, with customer service, great food, professional finishings, 12 taps and comfortable seating,” as Jurinka puts it. In the meantime, Slow Boat beers are pouring full-time at a handful of Beijing venues, and—like Great Leap—the brewery shows off its beers around the city’s bars via regular “pop-up events.”
Homebrewers Join the Fray
Whether or not Slow Boat has found a downtown HQ by the time you read this, there are likely to be more start-ups following these brewing forerunners. With awareness about craft beer raised, aficionados in Beijing have come out in force and formed what is surely China’s first homebrewing organization. The Beijing Homebrewing Society has held monthly meetings since February.
They are disciples of Great Leap, Slow Boat and the world’s more venerable brewers, and are spreading the word. The club aims to convince others of the joys of brewing, as a craft beer scene builds up in China. The group’s president, New Yorker Jake Wickham, explains: “I like to be in the middle of a beer movement, watch it grow from the ground up. It is very gratifying to be raising passion and beer IQ among the general public.”
Who knows, Beijing’s next commercial craft brewer could be among the society’s ranks. Maybe the city will even see its first micro of note helmed by a Chinese national—there are a number of local beer fans at the meetings.
This drive behind homebrewing is also largely thanks to Great Leap. Wickham had been wanting to start the brew club for two years before Setzer made it worthwhile by supplying brewing kit and ingredients to those interested. Such supplies would have been difficult to source in China (and small bags of brown powder in a suitcase difficult to get past customs officials).
Homebrewing simply didn’t exist as a hobby in Beijing until this year. But there is now strong appetite for learning the fine art, judging by the prices people are paying for the homebrewing courses Great Leap has begun to offer. As Setzer is not concerned about professional competition, he is open to giving people a pastime that could have them drinking experimental brews in their kitchens instead of his bar. “Some of the people I’ve taught have become our most loyal customers,” he says. “That’s maybe because they learn how hard it is! But also it’s a case of introducing people to good beer, the principle that students will teach their friends, who will become interested.”
Brewers vs. Chinese Bureaucracy and Conservatism
Certainly, there was a spell where it was useful for Great Leap to develop ways to make money other than by distribution. When Setzer ran afoul of licensing authorities last year, it was just the latest development causing observers to wonder how far a foreign-led beer movement can develop in a country that is notorious for its bureaucracy and conservatism.
Some would classify the lawmakers as wary of letting foreigners have too much influence. Expat barmen tell tales of hospitality businesses where Chinese have been allowed to aggressively oust their Western partners (incompetence, the theory goes, closes most of them soon after), or where bars getting too big for their britches have been shut down overnight. Such concerns must have flashed through the minds of the people at Great Leap when they were ordered to put the brakes on fledgling distribution in 2011.
