Why I Love Dogfish Head

I & most people I know have a love/hate relationship with listicles.  Most of the time it’s lazy writing &, in a way, insults the reader’s intelligence.  Many of the lists are redundant (how many times do we need a “Top [x] Beers to [fill in the blank]”) or arbitrary (what makes these the “Top [x] Beers to [fill in the blank]”?).  They usually incite disagreement & reaction, part of what makes them such good clickbait.  They exploit our natural attraction to organization & hierarchy, & are easily digestible - just fun head-candy.  I’ve certainly been guilty of putting out listicle-type posts before, so who am I to point fingers?  I’ve been addicted to lists & rankings since long before I got into beer, & years ago would eagerly pore over lists from Pitchfork, VH1, & Rolling Stone.

So it often occurs to me list whom I consider to be the most important or influential brewers in the roughly 50 years of craft brewing in the U.S.  A few no-brainers would be the pioneers - Anchor, the original alternative; Sierra Nevada, whose pale ale ignited a palate & paradigm shift; Boston, whose marketing & business sense arguably paved the way for craft to become mainstream; & New Albion, who was kind of the Velvet Underground of craft (Brian Eno said that not everyone bought VU’s first album, but everyone who did started a band).  These are just a few off the top of my head.

These are all first- or second-wavers.  Among the wave that emerged in the 90’s, three immediately come to mind: New Belgium, who ventured out with an all-Belgian-style portfolio as early as 1991; Russian River, who popularized the double IPA & American-made sour beer; & Dogfish Head.  

Dogfish Head turns 20 this year.  While I think there are more-than-personal reasons for Dogfish Head’s significance, of course I’m going to start with a personal anecdote.  Dogfish Head was probably the first craft beer I’d heard of.  I was in the apartment of an older friend (this was before my drinking days), who was telling another buddy about this beer he’d found while on vacation in Delaware.  The name was cool, & the idea of a smaller brewer was completely new to me.  The name & idea stuck with me, until several years later when I was able to order my own beer & met with a deluge of names & options.  Dogfish Head was familiar, & I liked their beer.

I think Dogfish Head has represented a threshold for a lot of people just getting into a craft, while still maintaining their appeal beyond “just” a “crossover” brewery.  They spearheaded the “extreme beer” movement with 120 Minute IPA, Fort, & World Wide Stout, tipping the scales in high double-digit ABVs.  If you were to list all the ingredients that have ever been employed in their brewery, it would likely be the longest of any American brewery, & would include among many others wasabi, rose water, scrapple, & human saliva.  They’ve collaborated with dozens of partners - not just brewers, but also musicians (including a favorite, indie gods Guided by Voices).  They’ve plumbed the depths of brewing history, creating beers based on recipes & anthropological findings millennia-old.  They broke ground on beer-wine hybrids way before the trend a few years.  And they still do very accessible stuff - amidst all the crazy stuff going on, I often forget that their flagship is an IPA.

They’re sometimes dismissed among the jaded geeks for being “gimmicky”.  I can see how their processes & recipes might be construed as marketing stunts (it’s cool to think of a beer made with ingredients from all seven continents, but is that conveyed in the taste?).  To me, though, Dogfish Head is the most effective embodiment of the freedom possible in brewing - the value of freedom depreciates if it’s not used, & they continue to execute whatever they feel like.  Sure, I don’t love everything they make, but that’s part of experimentation.  Even owner/founder Sam Calagione has admitted that they’ve released more than one faux pas over the years.  That’s part of the draw, at least for me - I saw in Dogfish Head all the crazy outsider stuff that could be attempted & accomplished in brewing, & it was like a world of possibilities was opened.

Speaking of Sam, he seems to be a polarizing figure.  His persona is large, broad.  He had a TV show, & is one of the most high profile characters in the biz.  He may come across as showy to the relatively critical, conservative crowd that comprises the beer-geekery.  He’s definitely got a kind of Joey Tribbiani vibe, goofy & endearing.  That surfer-with-the-rugged-good-looks thing is balanced by what appears to be a sharp business & creative mind.  The interests conveyed in Dogfish Head’s marketing dovetail with a lot of other niche popular culture - I mentioned GbV before, but he’s been spotted wearing Basquiat shirts, making Leonard Cohen references.  A scan of the brewpub’s in-house-only beers includes a crazy imperial stout/saison blend with Bordeaux grapes, aged in Buffalo Trace barrels, called “The Owls Are Not What They Seem” (look that one up).  Though the jaded may brush him off, dude’s literary.  

I also can’t think of a better spokesperson for craft beer.  With the TV show, his role in the movie Beer Wars, & other media appearances, he’s been a public face & frequently delivers a very positive message about the business.  Dogfish Head seems to have a record of playing well with their peers, & making craft beer a better place.  And Sam’s rebutted interest from the big guys, just this summer rejecting an offer from A-BInBev to sit down & talk turkey.

Though I’m writing all this fanboy stuff honestly, it’s not for nothing - I’ve long held these kinds of opinions & just needed a good reason to sit down & articulate them all.  And that reason [trumpets] is that The House is doing a small part in helping this groundbreaker celebrate their 20th with a slew of events - last night was the first of two sold out pairing dinners with Dogfish Head & our Chef Brian.  We’ll also hold a tap takeover of Dogfish Head’s brews this Friday, followed by a cupcake & beer brunch featuring further wizardry from Brian & Dogfish Head.  So yeah - we’re taking part, but my applause is still from the heart.  Happy 20th to one of the greats.

Is Craft Beer Punk? Part 2

A warning about this part of the post: If idealism & naivette make you roll your eyes, you might want to check out now.  I’m going to touch on some basic, sincere concepts in a way that’s not cool to do in our age of irony & post-everything, & I might get a little naked here.  I might also be more black-&-white than usual, but here goes...

The answer to the question about why people are upset by the blurring of craft beer’s boundaries is obvious to anyone who’s been a teenager, or who’s ever believed in something.  People believe in craft beer.  I’m going to speak for myself here, but I truly feel that a lot of people hold the same fundamental values about the beer & the community that they love.  As much as I’ve held the Brewers’ Association’s criteria under scrutiny elsewhere in my opinions, the core facets - small, independent, traditional - mean something to me, & are important.  The BA’s had the unenviable job of trying to operationalize those concepts, which is how we end up with with something like “small<6,000,000 bbls”, but those vague adjectives are there for a reason.  They represent an idealistic schema of how things should work, & protect those who aim to operate under that perfect world premise.  There are thousands of small companies, making a great product by their own standards, who are limited only by their imaginations & physical possibilities, & who are, to quote Comrade Calagione, “99.9% asshole-free”.  

If I’m coming across as a pollyanna here, it’s because that’s the way that the craft community has presented itself for decades.  We live in a compromised world - those chastising the anti-big-biz mentality of the hippie-punks like me who balk at corporate mergers are quick to point out how many times our lives intersect with big biz on a daily basis (I’m typing this into Google Docs, for instance).  But that’s the thing about the breweries we love - they seem to aspire to more ethical, beneficent, & just plain bullshit-free standard of operation than most of us are accustomed to.  To me, they show that it can be done the way it should be done, the way that I feel is the right way to run a business & be an entrepreneur.  This says to me that it’s possible to be successful & to grow without compromising, without selling out.  Or to NOT grow, & still be successful, if that’s how you want to do things - some of the most successful breweries are incredibly small, intimate operations who want to stay that way.  There’s a purity in the craft, in the product, that I feel is a big part of its draw.  It’s not just the beer, but who made it, how it was made, where it came from, what it means.  Deep down, that’s important & special to me, & many of us seem to be of the same sentiment.  

Put into the context of beer in the US, historically, craft emerged in no small part as an anti-establishment movement.  The pioneers of craft beer in the US took the steps they did because they wanted something better; reflexively, you can surmise that they saw big beer as the enemy.  It may have become passe now to dis BMC, & again, I’ve made some judicious concessions toward acknowledging the strengths they have in past writing.  But let’s not forget the strong “us vs. them” current flowing through all of craft’s past - the appeal has always been the flavor & quality foremost, but there’s also the satisfaction of knowing that you’re supporting the little guy & telling the big guy where to stick it.  “No crap on tap” was a call to arms for many good bars, priding themselves on keeping the bad guys out.  

Yep, I’ve gone there - “good guys & bad guys”.  A naive, youthful, rebellious part of me still feels that way.  The part of me that cares enough to take a stand, at least until the pragmatic part of me convinces it to peacefully sit back down.  The big corporations gave American beer a bad name, & part of me still pains to see them shaking hands with any of the players who’ve done their part to reverse that reputation.  That’s some of what gets me a little twisted, & you know what?  Craft breweries have capitalized on that perception.  Craft breweries have grown successful in some part because, not in spite, of their anti-establishment, us-vs-them, stick-it-to-the-man mentality.  And it’s hard to ignore the inherent contradiction in that transformation.

I realize that a lot of this might be my own baggage, but I maintain that a lot of others feel the same way.  Maybe becoming a parent has made me get in touch with some of my youthful values, & long for a scene that’s pure & free from the taint of corporate greed.  Maybe I want something like that to exist for my own son - not that I plan on handing him a pristine craft beer any time soon, but to know that it’s possible to do things “The Right Way” & be successful, sustainable.  Maybe I’m also an old fart who likes things better the old way, before there were these kinds of conundrums.  I came of drinking age after the 90’s bubble popped, after that decade’s wave of IPOs & corporate grabs came & went, but still came into good beer seeing an unspoilt landscape of possibilities.  

To that point, I can’t help but notice a little generation gap in how people perceive this kind of sea change.  In debating folks on-line, it felt like I came to personify the idealistic old hippie pining for the days when people cared & got angry, vs. the younger whip or two I butted heads with, who seemed unfazed.  Perhaps the millenials, who’ve barely grown up in a world without a multinationally-owned Goose Island, see it all as a level playing field.  “If the beer’s good, who cares who produces it?” is a common refrain, & one that I’ve rattled off from time to time.  But yeah, a part of me cares.  This point also brings to mind an episode of Craft Beer Radio, in which the hosts were joined by hosts of several other beer podcasts to discuss that infamous Budweiser Super Bowl ad.  The majority seemed to find it amusing & well-executed in a detached, critical kind of way, or maybe only slightly offensive but ultimately giving credit where it was due for an effective ad.  The only one to really raise some indignation was James Spencer of Basic Brewing Radio, the senior of this little roundtable.  His reaction was, to paraphrase, that he’s met too many small brewers who’ve given their lives, poured their hearts & souls, into their endeavors to have it belittled by a snarky ad.  

A light went off for me in hearing James’ response.  Of course it’s shitty for Bud to takes jabs at craft brewers - they’re real people who’ve sacrificed & busted their asses for something they believe in.  That emotion, that connection, is part of what has made craft beer as successful as it’s become, & I think what will continue to carry it forward.  People use the word “passion” in conjunction with craft beer all the time: “I’m passionate about craft beer.  Craft beer is a passion of mine.”.  On some level, talking about passion, community, & other emotionally-charged concepts can become marketing, but on some level it’s real.  I want to see people reconnect with that passion, that emotion, & to stop being so cynical & detached about something that they admit to loving.  That’s real, it’s deep, & it’s worth fighting for.  I hope we can get in touch with that deep-down-ness, look at it honestly, & take a little part of it with us every time we think about that next beer.  That, to me, is the spirit of this thing that we all love so much.  

Thanks to all who’ve stuck this post out & bore me getting a tad preachy.  I encourage all of us to think about our passion & what it means, where it comes from on a gut level.  And bottom line - do what feels good & what feels right.  That’s really what it’s all about.

Note: The above image is full of all kinds of semiotic significance - Elysian is a former craft brewery that was bought by ABInBev. Prior to that acquisition, they brewed 'Loser' in collaboration with SubPop Records, a formerly indie record label that formed a commercial partnership with Warner Bros. - the same band that signed Hüsker Dü back in the 80's.  So yeah, layers of stuff there.  

Is Craft Beer Punk? Part 1

I love preparing for a blog post by reading about punk rock.  The hardcore scene in the early 80’s was miles away from the grips of the mainstream music industry.  A few indie record labels flew the flag, showing that artistic satisfaction was possible through a DIY aesthetic & ethos (& working very, very hard).  This underground formed, in large part, as a reaction to the establishment that it saw as creatively desolate, valuing style over substance & hits over humanity.   Bands like Black Flag, the Minutemen, & Minor Threat built a scene with their bare bands, & those drawn to it were fiercely protective of the community that was theirs.  Commercial success in the conventional sense was a foregone preclusion – even if it wasn’t actively resisted, it just seemed inconceivable.

In 1986, a band by the name of Hüsker Dü crossed the gap, leaving stalwart SST Records & signing to Warner Brothers.  WB had courted the band for its “hip” status & grass roots fanbase, & part of the deal was that  Hüsker Dü would keep complete creative control – a promise on which, by all accounts, the company made good.  There was backlash from the fanbase, cries of “sellout” from those who saw bedding down with a corporation as anathema.  The band never quite achieved the creative heights they had at SST, though it’s debatable whether that had anything to do with their new home.  But the landscape had changed, & other bands followed suit.  Hardcore was built on the tenet of not selling out, & was now facing an identity crisis.

Anyone who’s followed this blog knows that the identity of craft beer comes up as a frequent topic.  They would also know that I’m a big fan of Lagunitas, who’s thrown their “craft brewer” identity into question by selling half of their company to Heineken.  Mergers & acquisitions in the beer world are nothing new – craftbrewingbusiness.com documents various forms of “selling out” at the rate of more than one per month lately, though some are more benign than others.  They still seem to cause a stir.  In my adult life, Goose Island’s sale to the Evil Empire of the beer industry was a huge upset; the Hüsker Dü analogy seemed obvious then.  And again, other breweries have followed suit, & the landscape has changed to one where the interests of “big” & “small” businesses become ever more mingled.

The craft beer community at large, on both the supply & demand sides, did not receive the news of Goose Island’s new ownership favorably.  I can think of more than one hardcore craft supporter who vowed that no Bourbon County would cross their lips again; I haven’t observed them longitudinally, but I’m going to give those individuals the benefit of the doubt & presume they’ve stuck to their guns.  Others were cautiously, um, non-pessimistic.  “Wait & see”, they said.  “Maybe it’ll be okay,” they said.  And for the most part, they were right.  The beer didn’t really take a hit, & now more people could get their hands on something they’d only heard of before.  I’ve defended post-sale Goose Island here, & folks seem to have come to accept that a big corporate brewery can avoid completely corrupting a brand.

So by now we’ve grown accustomed to brewers of all sizes getting more financially enmeshed with one another.  And the public’s reaction?  It’s mixed.  There are those who defend the moves, who cite that they mean more opportunity & resources for brewers.  There’s the argument that selling may be the only way to keep the brand viable long-term, & what owner nearing retirement age wouldn’t want to cash in on a company they’ve busted their ass to grow into something strong?  There’s the utilitarian angle that selling will deliver good beer to more people, maybe people in other parts of the world.  And just like the Hüskers, guys like Tony Magee promise to retain creative control, so nobody has to worry about their beloved beer taking a quality nosedive.

But even if fans manage to rationalize their way into accepting & even supporting acquisition, is anyone really happy about it?  Accepting at best, maybe apathetic, but happy?  I have a hard time believing that, given their druthers, fans of Lagunitas (of which there are many) want to see half the company sold off to the likes of Heineken.  And the non-apologists are either fed up or pissed off.  I have to admit that this one hit me a little harder than the previous sales, as Lagunitas has become one of my personal favorites.  Their split has given me some pause to reflect on my own values regarding art & business (which is always good fodder for blogging).

So, predictably, there are plenty who are unhappy about this trend - but why?  I think it’s a given that some people are going to react negatively to change, but it’s become ridicule-worthy for people to express indignation over what’s become a reality.  Outrage is now automatically met with a reflexive dismissal.   I’ve discussed objections over the Lagunitas move with the usual parties, in the usual venues, & have been called naïve.  I’m willing to bear that label, but I want to explain my position.  True, there’s probably little effect that said outrage will actually have, but that’s not to say that people can’t own their opinions, & that the reaction has some validity.  I think we need to listen to why we’re bent out of shape, & maybe learn something from it.

Once again, I find myself biting off a little more than I can chew.  I think I’m gonna grab a beer & continue this line of thought later.

*The graphic above is from Baltimore-based homebrew organization Brew Not Bombs, who definitely take the DIY approach to beer seriously.