Beer-Topia Read online

  Price: $275

  Story: Not only one of the world’s most expensive beers, this Schorschbräu brew also claims to be the strongest: 57.5% ABV. Produced in a tiny 36-bottle run in 2011, Schorschbock 57 is also pretty darn rare—although judging from the mostly quite scornful reviews posted at RateBeer (“the taste is dark tangy fruit, cinnamon, syrupy, toffee, brown bread, salted beef, nail polish remover and gasoline”), that probably isn’t such a bad thing.

  Beer: PBR 1844

  Price: $44

  Story: If you were to ask any random drinker to name the three letters least likely to be found sitting next to one another on a list of the world’s most expensive beer, the most common answer would probably be “P, B, and R.” But PBR 1844 is no joke. Here in the States, the blue ribbon affixed to cans of Pabst is rarely taken seriously; in China, however, PBR is truly a premium brew—it’s made using a list of fancy ingredients that includes German caramel malts, aged in uncharred American whiskey barrels. It’s even served in beautiful, fancy bottles. Sadly, it’s off-limits to U.S. drinkers…at least for now.

  Beer: Samuel Adams Utopia

  Price: $150

  Story: Quite a few of the beers on this list are only available to American drinkers as imports, but Sam Adams’ Utopias are a homegrown premium brew; in fact, at $150 for each fancy 700-ml bottle, it’s the most expensive beer made in the U.S. Getting it can be kind of tricky, depending on where you live, because its 27% ABV runs afoul of certain states’ beer laws, and it’s only produced every two years.

  But if you’re able to get your hands around a bottle, it’s an experience worth pursuing for the beer enthusiast. Each batch is aged up to 18 years in an assortment of casks, boasts a list of ingredients that includes maple syrup, and has provoked a rather rapturous buzz among the faithful, who point to its distinctive mouthfeel and blend of flavors as making it one of the few premium beers that actually lives up to its name.

  Beer: Sink the Bismarck

  Price: $80 for a six-pack

  Story: Another premium drinking experience from BrewDog, this insane “quadruple IPA” weighs in at a punishing 41% ABV, what the company rather understatedly refers to as “beer, amplified” and suggests that drinkers give “the same amount of skeptical, tentative respect you would show an international chess superstar, clown, or gypsy.” At $80 for a sixer, you’d better at least pay attention to this stuff while you’re guzzling away.

  Beer: Unnamed

  Price: $2,650

  Story: For a 2014 episode of their reality show Brew Dogs, beer-makers James Watt and Martin Dickie set out to make the most expensive beer possible…because they were in Las Vegas. Ingredients included dark chocolate, saffron, black truffles, and gold flakes. The bottle was auctioned off to benefit Keep Memory Alive, an Alzheimer’s foundation.

  YOUR DAD’S BEER, PART 1

  You don’t have to seek out obscure regional labels or make your own to enjoy a fine brew; after all, our dads got along just fine with these old standbys.

  Pabst: In 1844, Jacob Best founded the Empire Brewery in Milwaukee, which later became Best and Company. When Best’s son Philip took over in 1860, he changed it to the Philip Best Brewing Co. Best’s daughter then married a ship captain named Frederick Pabst, who purchased a chunk of the business, and by 1880 he was president of the largest brewery in America.

  Pabst’s glory days lasted a good long while and fed handsomely into the Milwaukee economy—not just because the brewery hosted lavish tours that culminated in endless free refills at the in-house pub, but also because Pabst plowed its largesse back into the city by purchasing a tract of land along Whitefish Bay and building a popular destination resort.

  Of course, we wouldn’t be talking about any of this if it weren’t for the beer: Pabst Blue Ribbon, which started out as Best Select in 1875. At festivals, Pabst took to draping a silk ribbon around the bottles, leading some drinkers to call it the company’s “blue ribbon” beer even though it hadn’t actually won one. Frederick Pabst, a crafty businessman, renamed the beer.

  PBR remained one of the best-selling beers in the world until the 1980s, when it started to seem stodgy next to the sleeker and better-advertised beers being pumped out by Budweiser, Coors, and Miller. The company found itself vulnerable to hostile takeover during the age of corporate raiders, and that’s what happened in 1985, when S&P Co. purchased Pabst. Production was contracted out, the historic Pabst brewery was shut down, and operations were moved first to San Antonio, and then to Los Angeles.

  While the iconic, nostalgic PBR label is exactly the kind of thing a certain type of drinker will look for during a bout of semi-ironic drinking, the Pabst Brewing Company itself has become a sort of holding company for previously defunct labels. Ballantine, Lone Star, Rainier, Schlitz, and Stroh are just a few of the brands that have been taken over by Pabst.

  Rolling Rock: It’s the flagship beer of the Latrobe Brewing Company, which got its start in 1893. Local legend has it that the same order of Benedictine monks who originally settled the region were also Latrobe’s first brewmasters and helped get the company off to a roaring start.

  When the U.S. went dry, so did Latrobe, but the company rebounded after Prohibition ended. Anticipating a bright future for beer, the Tito brothers (Frank, Robert, Ralph, and Anthony) purchased the company while Prohibition was still in effect, and their gamble paid off handsomely. Between 1933 and 1939, the Titos brewed a couple of popular varieties, Latrobe Old German and Latrobe Pilsner. But things really took off in 1939 when they introduced Rolling Rock, an extra-pale lager whose distinctive bottle promised to bring quality Latrobe product “from the mountain streams to you.”

  Recognizing that Depression-era customers would need to stretch their drinking dollar, Latrobe offered Rolling Rock in two sizes: a cheap, 7-ounce bottle (referred to as a “pony”) and a 12-ounce (a “horse”). The beer became a local favorite, and unlike a lot of other American businessmen, the Titos were perfectly content to enjoy their status as regional kings of beer.

  Affordability helped fuel Rolling Rock’s rise, as did its uncomplicated, dependable taste. But its success was also owed largely to what might accurately be described as its mystique—notably the mysterious “33” emblazoned on the back of every bottle. There are plenty of theories as to why it’s there, but no one really knows, not even the folks at the brewery…or if they do, they’ve never spilled the beans.

  After a long, mid-century sales slump, the Titos sold Latrobe Brewing Company in 1985 to a buyout firm whose managers intended to pump up the company’s marketing in the short term in order to resell it for a profit. Labatt took over in 1987 and spent the next 15 years ramping up the beer’s market share while building a “lifestyle brand” that eventually included a hugely popular local outdoor festival.

  The good times were not to last. In 1995, Labatt was purchased by Belgium’s Interbrew, which became InBev and sold Rolling Rock to Anheuser-Busch, leaving the Latrobe Brewing Company facility without a beer to produce, and Latrobe itself without hundreds of jobs.

  Rolling Rock ended up being brewed in New Jersey, a huge blow to the Latrobe economy. The Latrobe facility was ultimately sold off to City Brewing, and became a contract facility to produce beers such as Guinness Blonde and Sam Adams Oktoberfest.

  Molson: Yuengling, founded in 1829, is the oldest brewer in the U.S., but not in North America. That honor goes to Molson, which got its start in 1786 when British immigrant John Molson purchased a small Montreal brewhouse and used it as the starting point for an empire.

  Part of Molson’s success stemmed from his ability to brew beer people liked, but he was also a savvy businessman. He only started a brewery in the first place because he saw a market for intoxicating beverages cheaper than wine or rum, and he opted to cater to the waves of beer-loving English and Irish drinkers emigrating to Canada.

  In the 1940s, the company went public, using the cash to fuel a series of ventures that included purchasing the Montreal Canadie
ns hockey team (perhaps not coincidentally, today Molson is the official beer of the NHL). By the early 1990s, they’d purchased the Carling O’Keefe brewing conglomerate, making Molson the largest brewing company in Canada.

  Of course, not even the largest brewing company in Canada is immune to the increasingly global nature of corporate beer, and in 2005, Molson merged with Coors, consolidating both parties’ considerable assets to form what at the time ranked as the seventh-largest corporation in the beer business.

  Labatt: In 1847, Ontario brewers Samuel Eccles and John Kinder Labatt partnered to form Labatt and Eccles. Eccles retired shortly thereafter, selling his interest to Labatt, who renamed the company the London Brewery. After Labatt’s death in 1866, his son took over and steered the newly named Labatt Brewing Company.

  So strong were Labatt’s finances that the company managed to weather the double whammy of Canadian Prohibition (1916) and its American cousin (1919), a long dry scourge that wiped out all but 15 of eastern Canada’s breweries by the time it was finally over. With the brewing herd thinned, Labatt was in position to strengthen its hold on the marketplace. By the 1950s, it was a publicly traded behemoth whose light ale, Labatt 50, was the nation’s best-selling beer from 1950 until 1979…when it was succeeded by Labatt Blue.

  Various corporate mergers have since made Labatt a subsidiary of InBev. And although it remains a market leader in Canada, Molson has suffered a steep decline in the U.S., where its sales plummeted nearly 30 percent in the last decade.

  For the stories behind more classic brews, turn to page 211.

  BEER IS GOOD FOR YOU!

  • Beer contains trace amounts of silicon, and according to a 2008 study published in Food and Chemical Toxicology, that silicon may reduce the body’s ability to absorb aluminum. Less aluminum in the bloodstream and brain means a reduced risk for Alzheimer’s disease.

  • Barley, from which beer is most often made, is loaded with ferulic acid, an antioxidant that protects the skin against sun damage. A 2000 study in England found that the ferulic acid in beer is more absorbable and useful to the body than when it’s found in other crops, such as tomatoes and corn.

  • A 2010 study of 38,000 men found that when nondrinkers took up a glass-a-day beer habit, their risk of developing type 2 diabetes decreased by 25 percent.

  • In a study at Tufts University in 2009, test subjects responded well to the calcium content in beer. Participants enjoyed a higher level of bone density.

  • Beer may be the most effective preventive medicine against kidney stones. A Finnish study concluded that regular beer drinking may reduce the development of the painful blockages by 40 percent. Why? Beer is high in water, but compounds in hops slow the seepage of calcium from bone, which is how the stones first form.

  • A 2013 study at Greece’s Harokopio University determined that moderate beer consumption boosted arterial flexibility—that means it protects against hardening arteries.

  • Numerous studies indicate that beer raises good cholesterol and lowers bad cholesterol…in moderate consumption. More than one or two servings a day can weaken heart muscles.

  BEER MOVIES

  Beerfest (2006) After making the cult comedy Super Troopers and horror satire Club Dread, the Broken Lizard comedy troupe made this movie, about a pair of brothers out to reclaim their family’s honor by competing in a secret beer-drinking Olympics operated by their evil German cousins.

  Strange Brew (1983) If beer cinema has a Citizen Kane, it’s Strange Brew, the big-screen SCTV spinoff starring Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas as the dim-witted, beer-swilling Canadians Bob and Doug McKenzie. It tracks the McKenzies’ attempt to get free beer by planting a live mouse in a bottle and complaining to the brewer, only to stumble onto the brewery owner’s evil plan. Janet Maslin wrote in her review for the New York Times, “Anyone who’s partial to the McKenzies’ humor doubtless has a fondness for beer.”

  Beer (1985) Beer commercials are often so ridiculous that they border on self-parody. Their often desperate attempts to sell a lifestyle instead of a beverage inspired this satire about an advertising agency that builds a beer ad campaign around three beer-drinking doofuses who foil a bar robbery.

  Beer Wars (2001) One of the few movies on this list that isn’t a sophomoric comedy, this 2001 documentary by filmmaker Anat Baron details the craft brew industry’s struggle to carve out and maintain market share amid the major conglomerates. Things have changed a great deal in the years since Beer Wars was released—in favor of the small-batch breweries—but the film provides great historical context.

  What! No Beer? (1933) This comedy stars Buster Keaton and Jimmy Durante as a pair of buds who try to take over a defunct brewery in anticipation of Prohibition being repealed, only to run afoul of a local mobster.

  American Beer (2004) Part beer documentary, part real-life road comedy, this 2004 release chronicles the adventures of four friends on a cross-country drive to California, punctuated by their visits to microbreweries along the way (a list that includes such noteworthy establishments as Dogfish Head, Shipyard, Victory, Sierra Nevada, Anchor, New Belgium Brewing Company, and many more). While the film wasn’t exactly a box-office sensation, it did lead to one crucial drinking development: Barcade, a chain of hybrid bar/arcades co-founded by American Beer director Paul Kermizian.

  The Saddest Music in the World (2003) It looks like it was filmed in the 1930s, but that isn’t even the weirdest thing about this surreal dramedy about a brewery owner (Isabella Rossellini) seeking to drum up publicity for her company during Prohibition’s waning days. She sponsors a contest offering $25,000 to the person who can create the saddest music in the world. A highlight: transparent prosthetic legs full of beer.

  Smokey and the Bandit (1977) It’s not just a road movie, or a mustache movie (see Burt Reynolds’s luxurious lip hair); Smokey is definitely a beer film. The plot hinges on a legendary driver (Reynolds) hired by a bootlegger to ferry 400 cases of Coors across state lines. It’s hard to fathom now, but in 1977, that was highly illegal. The movie’s $128 million gross makes it the top-earning beer movie of all time; it was the third-biggest draw of 1977, trailing only Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

  THE HOWS AND WHYS OF NONALCOHOLIC BEER

  Let’s be honest: Beer is an acquired taste. Even the world’s most enthusiastic tipplers may not have enjoyed their first few pints, and really getting into the complexities and varieties of the stuff can take quite a while; it’s part of the reason why sweet malt beverages and hard cider have always had their place in the market. Like a timid person entering a swimming pool on a cool day, some people’s taste buds need time to acclimate to beer. The fact that it contains alcohol likely speeds up the process.

  But for the subset of drinkers who really enjoy beer but can’t ingest alcohol for whatever reason, there are nonalcoholic, or NA, brews. They’ve always endured a bad rap, and even the most popular brands (O’Doul’s, Sharp’s, etc.) tend to collect dust on rarely visited store shelves.

  For a lot of people, the thought of drinking it is comical. Beer without alcohol? Why would a person even bother? Lots of reasons, with a lot of history behind them. Up through the 19th century in England, the water was far too polluted to drink, so the populace—children included—drank beer, because brewing processed out most of the toxins. But even in the miserable world of 1700s England, people didn’t want or need to get drunk in the morning (or they were children), so they drank something called “small ale”—beer with an alcohol content of 2 to 3 percent. This beer wasn’t that different from the ales sold (albeit in small quantities) in the United States during Prohibition. Yes, you could buy beer under Prohibition—commercial brewers stayed in business by bottling beer that stayed below the 0.5% ABV legal limit.

  If making great regular beer is a science, then brewing one that is both tasty and free (or almost free) of alcohol is even trickier. And as anyone who’s ever sipped a mass-market NA beer can tell you, that’s most definitely
the case. Once people stop making fun of the idea of NA beer long enough to actually try it, they tend to start in all over again on the flavor, which can run the gamut from bland to outright rank. There are a number of good reasons for this, most of which can be traced back to the fact that, in order to brew non-alcoholic beer, you start out like you’re making the regular stuff, but before anyone can drink it, you have to take the alcohol out. Sounds difficult, right? It is.

  Traditionally, the most cost-effective method involves heating the brew. Alcohol’s boiling point is well below water’s, so if you put it under just enough heat—roughly 173°F—you’ll eventually end up with nonalcoholic beer. The problem, though, is that it’s just cooked the other ingredients, which results in a concoction that doesn’t taste right. Brewers can combat this with vacuum distilling, which lowers the boiling point considerably and helps ward off some of those flavor problems, but it isn’t a perfect solution.

  Over the years, brewers have devised a number of other methods. One of the most effective is reverse osmosis, a process that sends the beer through a filter that only allows water and alcohol through, distills the water-alcohol mixture and removes the alcohol, and then sends the leftover liquid back into the brewing grains. It isn’t as cheap or easy as simply boiling out the alcohol, but it results in an end product that tastes more like real beer.

  We can debate the merits of beer without alcohol, but absolutely no one enjoys a flat beer—which is unfortunately what you’re left with after you’ve boiled or filtered out alcohol. That’s because the carbonation in beer is a by-product of yeast turning sugar into alcohol. In short, no alcohol = no bubbles.