Category Archives: History

The Tavern Reborn: Rediscovering America’s Original Third Place

May 29, 2026 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

Content Warning: This blog entry includes language and terminology that may be considered offensive by contemporary standards. Such language is presented in its historical context and reflects the norms of the period discussed, not the values of the author.

In February of this year, The Wall Street Journal ran a story on the revival of what was once a quintessential cornerstone of American life: the tavern. Neither a bar nor a restaurant, the tavern occupies what the Journal characterizes as a “gray area” between the two.

The term itself has deep historical roots, deriving from the thirteenth-century French taverne, which in turn comes from the Latin taberna, meaning a shop, stall, or inn. As an institution, the tavern is even older. Archaeological evidence traces its origins to ancient Mesopotamia, where an open-air tavern dating to around 2700 BC has been uncovered. Taverns were also common in ancient Greece and Rome, later becoming a familiar feature of medieval Europe. When European colonists arrived in North America, the tavern quickly took hold there as well, becoming an integral part of early American life.

In colonial America, taverns were places where the community gathered to play games, enjoy entertainment, share news, argue politics, and linger over a beer. Organized activities were a feature at most taverns. These included “dancing, fistfights, and shooting at random indoor targets“, as well as cockfighting. Activities such as these helped define taverns as “places where ordinary people could participate in extraordinary activities.” In many ways, colonial taverns embodied what urban sociologist Ray Oldenburg calls a Third Place – a community gathering spot beyond home and work.

In addition to locals, taverns were equally vital to travelers, serving as places where one could find a bed for the night and food to sustain the journey. They also served as venues for official business; it was not uncommon for both lower and superior court sessions to be held there – the former handling minor criminal offenses and small civil disputes, and the latter addressing more serious criminal cases and larger civil matters.

These early Colonial taverns were called “ordinaries.” They were given this name because they were required to have an annual license called an Ordinary Bond, and the issuing authority had the power to set the price charged for goods and services such as meals and lodging.

The first tavern in colonial America was opened by a Thomas Cole in Boston, MA, on March 4, 1634. Such was the importance of taverns to colonial life that they were among the first to be built when a new settlement was being established.

In her excellent book on the history of taverns, saloons, speakeasies, and grog shops, Christine Sismondo quotes a letter written by Sir Captain John Walduck to his nephew in 1708. It states:

“Upon all the new settlements the Spaniards make, the first thing they
do is build a church, the first thing ye Dutch do upon a new colony is to
build them a fort, but the first thing ye English do, be it in the most
remote part of ye world, or amongst the most barbarous Indians, is to
set up a tavern or drinking house.”

In some cases, the urgency to establish a tavern may have been driven by the threat of financial penalty. In 1656, the General Court of Massachusetts made towns liable to a fine if they failed to maintain a tavern. This policy reflected both a desire to exert oversight over the sale of alcohol and a practical need to provide weary travelers with food and rest. To encourage compliance with this law, many communities offered inducements such as land grants, pasture rights for livestock, or exemptions from school and church taxes to prospective tavern keepers. This carrot-and-stick approach meant that taverns were ubiquitous and plentiful throughout colonial America.

The most popular drinks in colonial taverns were rum, flip, and punch. But what exactly was flip? In Stage-Coach and Tavern Days, Alice Morse Earle offers the following description:

“American flip was made in a great pewter mug or earthen pitcher filled two-thirds full of strong beer; sweetened with sugar, molasses, or dried pumpkin, according to individual taste or capabilities; and flavored with “a dash” – about a gill – of New England rum. Into this mixture was thrust and stirred a red-hot loggerhead, made of iron and shaped like a poker, and the seething iron made the liquor foam and bubble and mantle high, and gave it the burnt, bitter taste so dearly loved.“

The practice of inserting a red-hot poker into a flip probably has its roots in the 15th-century German tradition of Bierstacheln (“beer spike”). Initially used to warm cold Lagers to a more drinkable temperature, the technique later evolved as a way to caramelize the sugars in darker, malt-forward beers. This process produces a smoother, creamier texture while enhancing flavors and aromas such as caramel and toffee.

The beer consumed by colonial settlers was primarily ale, reflecting the brewing traditions of Great Britain, where ale dominated production and consumption. These ales were either imported or brewed locally in homes and taverns throughout the colonies. Lager beer – and the bottom‑fermenting yeast required to produce it – did not arrive in the United States until the 1840s, when German immigrants introduced new brewing techniques.

With the passage of time, the role of the American tavern changed significantly. As independent hotels and restaurants expanded, taverns gradually lost their broader social and lodging functions, becoming primarily establishments for the sale of alcohol. With this transition, the term “tavern” came to be used interchangeably with “alehouse” or “bar.” In his 1952 study of taverns in Dane County, WI, the sociologist Boyd E. Macrory defined a tavern as “any establishment whose business consists largely of selling and serving intoxicating liquors and/or beer for consumption on the premises.” Despite this narrowing of their function, they remained important gathering spots. Writing as recently as 1982, Ray Oldenburg and Dennis Brisset noted that “the tavern, or bar, is without doubt the dominant third place in our society” (Oldenburg and Brisset 1982, 269).

In the Wall Street Journal article, Joshua Stein describes a modern tavern as a hybrid space that blends elements of both bar and restaurant. His examples – such as the Sergeantsville Inn in Sergeantsville, New Jersey, and the Stissing House in Pine Plains, New York – are places where patrons can enjoy a full meal or simply sit at the bar with a beer or cocktail. What distinguishes these establishments is not just their dual function but their role as community anchors. They cultivate a sense of familiarity and belonging, drawing in regulars who gather – often spontaneously – to socialize and connect. Jacqueline Haut Evans, an artist and real estate agent, captures this spirit in reflecting on her 25 years as a regular at the Sergeantsville Inn: “it doesn’t matter when I come in … I know I’m going to know somebody”.

Seen from a long historical perspective, the recent revival of the American tavern is less a reinvention than a rediscovery. For centuries, taverns have adapted to changing economic conditions and social expectations, shifting from indispensable civic institutions to more narrowly defined drinking establishments. Yet their enduring appeal lies in something deeper than their function: their ability to bring people together. While modern taverns may no longer host court sessions or house weary travelers, their renewed popularity suggests a continued desire for shared spaces that blur the boundaries between commerce and community. In this sense, today’s tavern – like its colonial predecessor – again hints at the power of a “third place,” reminding us that even in a digitized, fragmented world, the need for face-to-face connection remains as strong as ever.

Further Reading:

Earle, Alice Morse. 1900. Stage-coach and Tavern Days. The MacMillan Company.

Sismondo, Christone. 2014. America Walks into a Bar: A Spirited History of Taverns and Saloons, Speakeasies and Grog Shops. Oxford University Press.

Struzinski, Steven. 2002. The tavern in colonial America. The Gettysburg Historical Journal, Volume 1, Article 7

History

Drink Wisconsibly

February 28, 2026 The Beer Professor

A few days ago, I was going through some of my “posts in progress” — drafts I had started but never quite finished. They’re all in different stages of completion. Some may eventually be published, while others will probably never see the light of day.

One draft I stumbled across was titled “Drink Wisconsibly.” To my surprise, it was actually finished — just never published. I have no idea why. I wrote it back in the summer of 2024.

So, here it is: “Drink Wisconsibly.” Enjoy.

Two years ago at Christmas, my oldest daughter and her husband gave me a white T-shirt. Across the front was an outline of the state of Wisconsin with the words Drink Wisconsibly splashed across it. It’s a clever twist on the familiar “Drink Responsibly” tagline from TV commercials, with a nod to the great state of Wisconsin.

If T-shirts aren’t your style the Drink Wisconsibly website offers plenty of other options — ball caps, sweatshirts, beer mittens, lip balm, and more — all featuring the same logo. The site proudly describes Drink Wisconsibly as “Wisconsin’s preeminent lifestyle brand”.

Enjoying a beer wearing my Drink Wisconsibly t-shirt

Wisconsin has long shared a deep and storied connection with beer and the brewing industry. Brewing began in the state in the 1830s, and it didn’t take long for it to become woven into everyday life. According to the Wisconsin Historical Society, during the latter half of the 19th century, “nearly every community had at least one operating brewery,” and breweries were “as much a part of Wisconsin communities as churches and schools.”

By the start of the Civil War in 1861, Wisconsin was home to nearly 160 breweries. That number continued to climb, surpassing 300 by the 1890s.

The remarkable growth of the state’s brewing industry in the 19th century was closely tied to the influx of German immigrants who settled across Wisconsin. They brought with them a deep appreciation for beer — especially lager — along with the skills and expertise needed to brew it. In fact, by the late 19th century, German immigrants dominated the American brewing industry. By 1880, 80.5% of brewers in the United States were either German immigrants or the sons of German immigrants.

According to Mark Louden, Director of the Max Kade Institute for German-American Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, many German immigrants were drawn to Wisconsin by the abundant supply of affordable farmland. By 1900, 34 percent of the state’s population was of German ancestry.

Today, that influence remains strong: 40.5 percent of Wisconsinites claim German heritage. In several counties across the state, more than half of residents trace their ancestry to Germany (see map below).

Several breweries that achieved iconic status among American beer drinkers were founded in Wisconsin — particularly in Milwaukee. Pabst Brewing Company was established in 1844, followed by Jos. A. Schlitz Brewing Company in 1848, and Miller Brewing Company in 1855.

I should add that Old Milwaukee — brewed by Schlitz — was my beer of choice during my doctoral student days at Arizona State University in the late 1980s (by then, the brand had been acquired by Schlitz Brewing Company of Detroit, Michigan).

By 1914, brewing had become Wisconsin’s fifth largest industry. Given this long and storied history of beer production, Dr. Robin Shepard of the University of Wisconsin–Madison has suggested that the state may be “on a par with other worldly recognized brewing areas such as Bavaria, the Czech Republic and Belgium“.

In addition to beer, Wisconsin was also a significant producer of hops between 1840 and 1910, with production peaking at five million pounds in 1860.

As in many other states, Wisconsin was home to a strong and active temperance movement. During the latter half of the 19th century, lawmakers passed numerous measures aimed at curbing excessive drinking. For instance, an 1849 law held tavern owners “responsible for any costs associated with supporting drunkards”, reflecting growing concern about alcohol’s social impact.

The advent of Prohibition (1920–1933) posed serious challenges for Wisconsin’s breweries. Many were forced to close their doors permanently, while others managed to survive by pivoting to alternative products such as soft drinks, ice cream, and cheese. For ordinary citizens, bootlegging and homebrewing became key sources of beer during those dry years.

There is little doubt that Wisconsinites love their beer. One writer describes Milwaukee’s relationship with beer as a “liquid romance”, observing that “drinking infiltrates almost every social activity.” Another points to the state’s “enduring love of dairy, beer and sausage”, neatly capturing a defining trio of Wisconsin culture.

That affection is woven into the state’s identity. Wisconsin’s only Major League Baseball team, the Milwaukee Brewers, proudly carries the brewing tradition in its name. Milwaukee is also home to the Museum of Beer and Brewing, celebrating the city’s rich brewing heritage.

Today, Wisconsin boasts a thriving craft beer scene, with 266 breweries across the state. In 2023, it ranked 6th in the nation for the number of breweries per 100,000 adults of legal drinking age — further proof that the state’s love affair with beer is alive and well.

According to data from County Health Rankings & Roadmaps, reported by 24/7 Wall St. in 2022, Wisconsin was ranked the drunkest state in America, with 25.2 percent of adult residents reporting excessive drinking. The same dataset revealed that six of the ten drunkest cities in the country were located in Wisconsin — with Appleton claiming the number one spot.

A 2019 report from the University of Wisconsin Population Health Institute found that, across every age group, Wisconsin residents exceeded the national average for binge drinking. The study defined binge drinking as consuming five or more drinks per occasion for men and four or more for women.

Among those who engage in binge drinking, Wisconsinites average 4.1 binge drinking episodes per month — roughly once a week.

Source: University of Wisconsin Public Health Institute

It is worth noting that, in terms of per capita alcohol consumption, Wisconsin ranks 8th among the 50 states and the District of Columbia (with New Hampshire holding the top spot). However, when it comes to the rate of excessive drinking, Wisconsin ranks first.

Excessive drinking, unfortunately, contributes to alcohol-related deaths. The graph below illustrates that the total number of alcohol-induced deaths in Wisconsin (excluding automobile accidents) rose steadily from 1999 to 2021.

I, along with other academics, have written about the benefits of moderate alcohol consumption – specially in social settings—while also cautioning against the dangers of excess. Drink Wisconsibly is a brilliantly clever twist on the familiar advice to Drink Responsibly.

Wisconsin boasts a rich brewing history and a thriving community of creative modern craft breweries. So why not do both? Let’s drink Wisconsibly—savoring the state’s fantastic beers—while also drinking responsibly, enjoying them in moderation with friends. In other words: Drink Wisconsibly, Responsibly.

Authenticity, History, International, Lager, Neolocalism

Welcome to Wrexham (Lager)

December 12, 2025 The Beer Professor 2 Comments

I have a deep passion for football—known as soccer here in the United States. Most of that passion is devoted to Glasgow Celtic, the Scottish club I’ve supported avidly since I was seven years old. Thanks to the internet and cable television, I can keep up not only with my team but with the sport more broadly. Beyond watching matches, I occasionally enjoy football documentaries. Two of my favorites are Sunderland ’Til I Die and Welcome to Wrexham. Both series chronicle the challenges faced by the men’s teams of Sunderland and Wrexham as they strive to win enough points to climb the tiers of English football. Interestingly, although Wrexham is based in Wales, its team competes in the English Football League—a legacy of the early 20th century when no Welsh league existed. As a result, Wrexham, along with Cardiff City, Newport County, and Swansea City, was invited to play in English League.

Of the two documentaries, Welcome to Wrexham has received the most publicity. This is in large thanks to the fact that, back in 2021 actors Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney became the co-owners of the club. Both have a starring role in Welcome to Wrexham. The takeover has been hugely successful and over a four-year period (2021-2025) the club gained three successive promotions and moved from the fifth to the second tier of the English football pyramid.

But it’s not just the local football team that Reynolds and McElhenney invested in. They also, along with the Allyn family of Skaneateles, NY, became majority co-owners of a local brewery, Wrexham Lager Beer Co., in 2024. It is a brewery with an interesting history. It was founded In 1882 by two German Immigrants, Ivan Levinstein and Otto Isler. During the 1900s, Wrexham Lager was exported worldwide, finding markets in places as far away as Australia, India, and the Americas. Such was the popularity of Wrexham Lager during the early 20th century that it was available to passengers on the ill-fated Titanic.

In 2000, due to declining demand, the brewery closed its doors. The then owners of the brewery, Carlsberg-Tetley, continued to produce the Lager at a brewery in Blackburn in England. They did so until 2002 when production ceased completely. In 2011, a local family, the Roberts, decided to revive the brand and brew Wrexham Lager in a newly constructed microbrewery. Along with Reynolds, McElhenny, and the Allyn family, the Roberts remain co-owners of the brewery.

Long before Reynolds’s and McElhenney invested in either the football club or the brewery there was a strong connection between the club’s fans and Wrexham Lager. It was, indeed, a staple brew for many Wrexham fans, so much so that the Lager got its own chant. To the tune of the Welsh hymn Bread of Heaven, the chant goes:

Wrexham Lager, Wrexham Lager

Feed me ’til I want no more (want no more),

Feed me ’til I want no more..

As both a football fan and a beer enthusiast, I was familiar with Wrexham Lager and its connection to the local football club—though I had never actually tasted it. That changed a few weeks ago. While browsing the beer section of the dinner menu at a local restaurant, I noticed Wrexham Lager listed among the offerings. At $9 a can, it was pricier than the other craft beers on the menu—likely due in part to the fact that it had traveled all the way from Wrexham to Toledo. Or so I thought.

As I examined the can (as I do with most canned beers that I have for the first time) I noticed that the beer inside was not brewed in Wrexham, but in Normal, IL at Destihl Brewery. Curious about Destihl I visited their website. Established in 2007, in addition to their own line of beers Destihl brew a number of what they call ‘partner beers’. Included in these is Wrexham Lager.

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed by this discovery. One of the things I value most about craft beer is its local character—the way it reflects and connects to a specific place. This sense of place has been widely studied by several geographers, including Scott Taylor Jr. and Robin DiPietro of the University of Houston and the University of South Carolina-Columbia, respectively. In their work, they explore the concept of place-based brands—brands that are defined by their geographic origin and cannot be authentically reproduced elsewhere because of the unique qualities tied to that location.

With respect to Wrexham Lager, the question is simple – can Wrexham Lager be brewed anywhere except Wrexham. Martyn Jones who represented the people of Wrexham as a member of the British Parliament between 1987 and 2010 doesn’t think so. He put it very simply “It isn’t Wrexham Lager if it isn’t brewed in Wrexham.” Before becoming a Member of Parliament, Jones worked in the Wrexham Lager Brewery. In 2020 (when the Lager was being brewed in Blackburn) Jones spearheaded a campaign to bring production of the famous Lager back to Wrexham.

The statement by Martyn Jones gets right to the heart of the question of authenticity. Is the Wrexham Lager that is brewed in Illinois authentic? One might argue that as long as the Lager is brewed using the same ingredients and the same recipe then what’s the big deal? Others, such as Martyn Jones, would suggest otherwise and would argue that where Wrexham Lager is brewed is a big deal.

This is not the first time the issue has been raised with respect to the brewing industry. Back in 2016, a judge found in favor of the plaintiff in a class action lawsuit filed against Anheuser-Busch (A-B). The lawsuit revolved around Beck’s beer. While ostensibly a German beer, Beck’s was owned by Anheuser-Busch InBev. In addition to being brewed in Bremen Germany, since 2012 Beck’s had been brewed in St. Louis, MO. The lawsuit alleged that Anheuser-Busch “misrepresented to consumers that Beck’s Beer is brewed in and imported from Germany”. Plaintiffs alleged “that these beers are in fact domestically brewed but priced as a premium imported beer”.

In a case study of a Scottish craft brewery, David Brown of Heriot-Watt University (UK) examines the challenges the owner faces as he considers expanding beer distribution into England and Wales. Many of the brewery’s products feature names inspired by local landmarks and Scottish idioms, with labels referencing regional issues—such as a nearby nudist colony. As they enter more geographically distant markets, a key question arises: should these local references remain unchanged, or be adapted to make the brand more accessible and transparent to non-local consumers? Selling a beer with a strong sense of place beyond its home region can presents some unique branding challenges.

Wrexham Lager is brewed at Destihl in Normal, IL

The story of Wrexham Lager—and its connection to football, community, and identity—highlights a broader debate about authenticity in an increasingly globalized world. While recipes and branding can travel, the sense of place that defines a product is harder to replicate. For some, brewing Wrexham Lager in Illinois may seem inconsequential, but for others, like Martyn Jones, it strikes at the heart of what makes the beer unique. This tension between tradition and practicality is not new; it echoes similar controversies across the brewing industry, where geographic origin remains a powerful marker of authenticity. Ultimately, whether in football or beer, place matters—not just as a backdrop, but as an integral part of the story we tell and the experiences we value.

Further Reading:

Brown, David M. 2023. Managing neolocalism outside the locale in real ale and craft beer entrepreneurship: The case of Ben Lui Brewery. The International Journal of Entrepreneurship and Innovation.

Taylor, Scott, Jr and Robin DiPietro. 2020. Assessing consumer perceptions of neolocalism: Making a case for microbreweries as place-based brands. Cornell Hospitality Quarterly, Volume 61, Numbr 2, Pages 183–198.

Beer Names, History, Neolocalism

Remembering the Edmund Fitzgerald

November 21, 2025 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

Fifty years ago this month the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, a Great Lakes freighter, sank in a violent storm in Lake Superior. None of the twenty-nine crew members survived. At 13,632 tons she was, and still is, the largest ship to have sunk in the Great Lakes. Eleven days before her sinking, during a routine inspection in Toledo, OH the Coast Guard found that some of the hatch covers that sealed the cargo area would not close properly. This, it appears, may have contributed to the Fitzgerald’s sinking. When it sank the Fitzgerald was carrying more than 26,000 tons of iron ore (in the form of taconite pellets) from Superior, WI to Detroit, MI – a journey it had made many times. Four of the crew crewmembers were from Toledo – Ernest M. McSorely (Captain), Eugene W. O’Brien (Wheelsman), William J. Spengler (Watchman), and Robert C. Rafferty (Steward/Cook).

Throughout history the Great Lakes has seen somewhere between an estimated 6,000 to 10,000 shipwrecks. Despite the large numbers, it is the sinking of the Fitzgerald that has remained front and center in the minds of the North American public (or at least those of us fortunate enough to live on or near the Great Lakes). To a large extent, we have the Canadian singer/songwriter Gordon Lightfoot to thank for that. In 1976, Lightfoot released the song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. For the week of November 20, 1976 (a little over a year after the disaster) the song reached number 1 in Canada on and number 2 on Billboard Top 100 in the United States. According to Scott Bauer, writing for the Associated Press, “Without the song, ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald’ may have been largely forgotten”

While Gordon Lightfoot deserves kudos for keeping alive the memory of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a couple of Great Lakes breweries have also contributed. None more so than the aptly named Great Lakes Brewing Company in Cleveland, OH whose Edmund Fitzgerald Porter “is a bittersweet tribute to the legendary freighter’s fallen crew—taken too soon when the gales of November came early”. According the Dan Conway, co-founder of Great Lakes Brewing Company, “ the dark, rich colors and flavors of our porter seem to match the image of iron ore that the Fitz transported through the Great Lakes.” Not surprisingly, Great Lakes Brewing Company honored the 50th anniversary of the freighter’s sinking. On November 10 and 11, 2025 they hosted an event that included an educational presentation and a moment of silent reflection. For every pint of their Porter sold on those two days, the brewery donated one dollar to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum in Paradise, MI.

Edmund Fitzgerald Porter by Great Lakes Brewing Company in Cleveland, OH pays tribute to the freighter and the twenty-nine men who died when it sunk

Another brewery, Quenched and Tempered in Toledo, OH also partnered with a local museum, The National Museum of the Great Lakes, to remember and honor the Edmund Fitzgerald. To commemorate the event Brewery owner Ali Drozdowicz and brewmaster Alex Drozdowicz created a one-off beer – a Copper Ale. The beer was given the name “Toledo Express”, one of a number of nicknames given to the Fitzgerald.

Toledo Express Copper Ale brewed by Quenched & Tempered Brewing Company in Toledo, OH commemorates the Edmund Fitzgerald

Toledo brewery, Earnest Brew Works also brewed a special beer as a tribute to the crew of the Fitzgerald. The aptly named ‘Gales of November’ captures the brutal weather conditions that proved fatal to the freighter and its crew. Gales of November is a Blackberry Sour which clocks in at 7.5% ABV.

Gales of November, brewed by Earnest Brew Works in Toledo, OH is a tribute to the twenty-nine men who perished when the Edmund Fitzgerald sank

Naming beers after local landmarks, historical events, or notable figures exemplifies a concept known as neolocalism. Geographer Stephen M. Schnell of Kutztown University defines neolocalism as “the conscious attempt of individuals and groups to establish, rebuild, and cultivate local ties and identities.” In a separate paper co-authored with Joseph S. Reese of Edinboro University, Schnell and Reese argue that many craft breweries actively embrace neolocalism through various strategies—one of the most common being the selection of beer names that reflect connections to the local community. The three beers highlighted here, which commemorate an event deeply rooted in Great Lakes communities such as Cleveland and Toledo, serve as clear illustrations of this practice.

Further Reading:

Schnell, Stephen M. and Joseph S. Reese. 2003. Microbreweries as tools of local identity. Journal of Cultural Geography, Volume 22, Issue 1, Pages 45-69.

History, International, Scholarship

Guinness and the Student’s t-test

March 29, 2025 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

Well, that’s another St. Patrick’s Day behind us. I am not really a green beer person, and don’t care much for corned beef (although I am partial to cabbage). So, I usually don’t participate in the celebrations that occur on the famous saint’s feast day. This year, however, I did make a presentation on St. Patrick and the history of Guinness as part of the monthly Pint Talk series at one of my local breweries, Quenched and Tempered.

Speaking about St. Patrick and the history of Gunnesss at Quenched & Tempered Brewing Company (Photo Credit: Beth Schlemper)

As I was preparing my talk, my oldest daughter sent me a text asking if I knew that the student t-test was developed by an employee of Guinness. My daughter is a nurse and is working on her Master of Science degree in Nursing at Ohio University. In one of her classes, the instructor was covering some basic statistical techniques. This is where the student’s t-test came up. I responded to her text, telling her that I was indeed familiar with both the test itself and the fact that it had been developed by a Guinness employee, and that both would be mentioned in my presentation.

William Sealy Gosset was born in Canterbury, England in 1876. As a student at Oxford University, Gosset studied mathematics and chemistry. Soon after graduating from Oxford, in 1899, Gosset joined the Guinness brewery in Dublin, Ireland, as a master brewer and experimental scientist. As it was to turn out, all of Gosset’s working days (1899-1937) were spent as a Guinness employee. When he joined Guinness, it was the largest brewery in the world, producing close to 1.2 million barrels of beer. And it was on a growth trajectory. By 1914, it was producing almost 2.4 million barrels.

The arrival of Gosset at Guinness signaled something of a scientific revolution for the Irish brewery – from that day forward, scientific rigor would underpin all of the brewery’s activities. As noted by Stephen T. Ziliak, “all factors of production, from barley breeding to taste testing” would be “controlled, improved, and confirmed by experimental science”. A degree in science from Oxford or Cambridge would be required of anyone hoping to become a Guinness brewer. By applying scientific principles to brewing, Guinness hoped to improve both the quality and consistency of its beer, while minimizing production costs. One observer likens being a brewer at Guinness in the early 1900s to “being a computer scientist at Bell Labs in the 1970s or an artificial intelligence researcher at Google today“.

Quality and consistency of the final product was highly dependent upon the quality and consistency of the barley and hops used in the brewing process. In the case of hops, Guinness’ traditional method of choosing which to use was based on looks and/or fragrance – a highly unreliable technique. A more reliable method would have been knowledge of the degree of soft resins in the hops. This was problematic, however. The vicissitudes of agriculture meant that there could be considerable variation in the soft resin content of hops, both from field to field and year to year.

Measuring the soft resin content in every hop cone was not feasible. By 1886, Guinness was using ~5 million pounds of hops. An alternative was to take a sample of hops and measure their soft resin content. But this raised some important questions? For example, how many hop cones did you have to sample? And how could you tell if your samples were representative of the larger batch of hops you were considering using in the brewing process. This was one of the tasks to which Gosset set his mind. In 1906 Guinness granted Gosset a sabbatical to work on this problem, so he spent a year at the Biometrics Laboratory of mathematician Karl Pearson at University College London.

Gosset was particularly interested in the problem of small samples. In other words, by measuring the soft resin content of a small sample of hops, can you infer that the entire crop has an acceptable soft resin content? Up until that point, all methods for extrapolating from a sample relied on having at least 30 observations. It was during his year at Pearson’s laboratory that Gosset figured out how characteristics of larger populations could be inferred from a very small number of samples. In his initial work he did not focus on hops. but malt extract. By taking just four samples of malt extract Gosset found that he could be sure with more than 92% certainty that the “degrees saccharine” of the extract was within 0.5 degrees of the required amount which was 133 degrees.

In 1908 Goset published the results of his research in the journal Biometrika. He did so under the pseudonym “Student”. While Guinness was happy for Gosset to share his work, they preferred that competitors not know for whom the author worked and the manner in which the brewery was applying his research. Indeed, Gosset used the same pseudonym in 19 of the 21 scientific papers he published.

As a result of Gosset using the pseudonym in his paper, the statistical technique that he presented became known as Student’s t-test. Today the Student t-test is taught in every introductory statistics course in the world (I don’t know that for sure, but I can’t imagine an introductory statistic’s course without it).

It is also widely used by both academic and non-academic researchers. For example, in medical research it can be used to compare the effectiveness of two drugs (or a placebo and a drug) in a clinical trial, while Psychologists might use it to assess the impact of therapy on an individual (before and after therapy scenarios). A manufacturer may use it to assess whether average customer satisfaction rating for a new product differs significantly from a pre-determined benchmark.

In a letter published in the Pakistan Journal of Medical Sciences, Younis Skaij described the Student’s t-test as the ‘bread and butter” of statistical analysis. Writing in the Scientific American, Jack Murtagh, called the Student’s t-test as “one of the most important statistical techniques in all of science“. As Gosset’s research was published under the pseudonym of Student, he probably does not get the recognition he deserves among the scientific community. But next time you raise a glass of Guinness to your lips, give a thought to this “gentleman scientist“.

Further Reading:

Ziliak, Stephen T. 2008. Guinnessometrics: The economic
foundation of “Student’s” t. Journal of Economic Perspectives, Volume 22, Issue 4, Pages 199–216.

History

The Past on Tap: Ancient Beer in Celtic Europe

February 24, 2024 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

Last week I attended a lecture at the Toledo Museum of Art. The event was organized and hosted by the Toledo Society of the Archaeological Institute of America. The title of the lecture was “The Past on Tap: Archaeological Evidence for Ancient Alcohol in Iron Age Celtic Europe”, and delivered by Dr Bettina Arnold, Professor of Anthropology at University of Wisconsin Milwaukee.

Dr. Arnold’s lecture focused on presenting archaeologial evidence and analytical advances used in investigating feasting practices and brewing of malt and honey-based beverages during the period 1200 BC and 600 BC in Celtic Europe. The Celts were a collection of tribes who were unified by a shared culture and language. They originated in central and Western Europe, particularly central and eastern France, southern Germany and the Czech Republic. Subsequent migrations saw them extend their geographical footprint to include the British Isles, the Iberian Peninsula, and northern Italy. Despite their dispersed geography and reputation of being fierce warriors, it is worth noting that the Celts never established an empire (as the Romans did).

In her work as an archaeologist. Dr. Bettina has excavated Celtic burial mounds in southwest Germany. Among other items, Bettina discovered vessels that had been used to hold alcohol. Archaeologists use a variety of analytical techniques in their research, including organic residue analysis (ORA). ORA involves the investigation of organic residues that are trapped in, or adhered to, ancient artifacts. In seeking to understand what ancient peoples drank, the artifacts of interest are vessels that were used to store or consume alcohol. In addition to ORA, Professor Arnold also uses what she calls mortuary consumption evidence. Mortuary consumption evidence refers to the artifacts (e.g., drinking vessels) that are buried or entombed with a corpse. These often provide an indication of the status that the individual held within the society within which they lived.

The research of Professor Arnold and other scholars showed that the Celts made both beer and mead. The ancient beer would have been made with either wheat, barley, and millet. The items discovered by Bettina include a fully intact cauldron used for serving alcoholic beverages. Previous excavations by other archaeologists at a nearby site yielded nine drinking horns, one of which could hold nine pints of ancient ale. At feasts, beer and wine would have been brought to diners in flagons, where it was decanted into drinking horns, which were made of natural horn and often decorated with gold foil bands. The anthropologist Michael Dietler has called the Celts “prodigious drinkers” and “reckless inebriates”, while the Greek historian Diodorus Siculus referred to their “furious passion for drinking”. Their is no doubt that the Celts like to feast and drink, a practice that they hoped to continue in the afterlife, witness the drinking horns and a large bronze cauldron (used to hold mead) found at the grave of a Celtic chieftain’s burial site near Hochdorf in Germany. As Dr Arnold has stated, “the Celts believed in a type of BYOB afterlife. You had to bring alcohol with you and throw a big party when you got to the other side. A sign of a good leader was generosity.” The purpose of feasting and drinking was not just hedonistic pleasure. It had what one might call a political purpose, being a mechanism to strengthen ties with allies. The Celts that Professor Arnold has researched also drank wine, but this was not produced locally, being imported from the Mediterranean region.

A Celtic drinking horn from Tuttlingen in southwestern Germany. Tuttlingen was established as a Celtic settlement (Source: Wolfgang Sauber)

Research by Maxime Rageot and colleagues, published in the online academic journal PLoS ONE, suggests that beer consumption may have been socially stratified with elites drinking beer made from barley or wheat, with warriors consuming beer made with millet. The reasons for these differences are not, unfortunately, reported.

In a 2018 paper in The Journal of Medieval Monastic Studies, Max Nelson suggests that Celtic brewing traditions influenced monastic brewing that became common in parts of Western Europe during the Middle Ages. Written evidence suggests that, during the 9th century, European monasteries introduced hops as an ingredient in the brewing of beer during the 9th century. Nelson, however, cites archaeological evidence which suggests that this may not be the case, and that hops were being used by Celts in northern Italy in 6th century B.C. While hops functioned as preservatives (important in the days before pasteurization or refrigeration) Nelson (p. 59) notes that “besides its preservative function, the bitterness of hops could help balance out the taste of an ancient beer, which might otherwise have been overly sweet from malt, sour from bacterial contamination, or smoky from fire-brewing”. The Greek historian, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, called Celtic beer “a foul smelling liquor made from barley rotted in water”. Based on archaeological evidence found at early Iron Age settlement of Eberdingen– Hochdorf in Germany, Hans-Pete Sitka of the University of Honenheim suggests that this particular Celtic beer was“probably a dark, smoky, and slightly sour. A caramelised taste would have decreased the sourness. Floating yeast sometimes produces a light lemon taste. If flavouring agents such as mugwort and carrot seeds were added, this beverage would have had a very different taste from our typical modern beer.”

Towards the end of her lecture, Professor Arnold described attempts by a number of contemporary craft breweries to recreate ancient Celtic beer. This included Lakefront Brewery in Milwaukee, WI who worked with Arnold, to create ”a recipe inspired by evidence collected from the archaeological remains.” Based on organic residue analysis, the beer they tried to recreate, in addition to yeast, contained four ingredients – barley, honey, mint and meadowsweet. In terms of taste, the final product has been described as “smooth and pleasant — almost like a dry port, but with a minty, herbal tinge to it.” While Lakefront’s Chris Ranson described the ancient Celtic beer as “drinkable”, she doubted that there would be a sizable market for it among modern-day craft beer drinkers.

The Celtic people were not the only ancient society to brew beer. Nor were they the first. For example, around 10,000 BC, various hunter gatherer groups would periodically come together at Göbekli Tepe, a Neolithic archaeological site (home to the world’s oldest known megaliths) in eastern Turkey for the purposes of ritualistic feasting. Brewing vats and images of festivals have been discovered there by archaeologists, with the beer being made from fermented wild crops. In similar fashion, at Qiaotou in Zhejiang Province in China, archaeologists have discovered vessels containing residues of ingredients used to brew beer. The beer, according to the authors, was “likely served in rituals to commemorate the burial of the dead.” The Qiaotou site dates to around 7,000 BC.

Ancient beer may not have tasted much like the beer that we drink today. But it did serve a similar purpose in the sense that it brought people together and provided a mechanism through which people could relax and bond, much like it does today.

Further Reading:

In addition to the readings below you can learn more about the Celts by visiting the website of the Center for Celtic Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Dr. Arnold is also the founding editor of the electronic journal e-Keltoi: Journal of Interdisciplinary Celtic Studies.

Dietler, Michael. 1994. Quenching Celtic thirst. Archaeology, Volume 47, Issue 3, pp. 44-48.

Nelson, Max. 2018. Celtic and Egyptian beer-production traditions and the origins of monastic brewing. Journal of Medieval Monastic Studies, Volume 7, pp. 47-77.

Rageot, Maxime, Angela Mötsch, Birgit Schorer, David Bardel, Alexandra Winkler, Federica Sacchetti, Bruno Chaume, Phillips Della Casa, Stephen Buckley, Sara Cafisdo, Janine Fries-Knoblach, Dirk Krause’s, Thomas Hope, Philipp Stockhsmmer, Cynthiaanne Spiteri. 2019. New insights into Early Celtic consumption practices: Organic analyses of local and imported pottery from Vix-Mont Lassois. PLoS ONE, Volume 14, Issue 6.

Sitka, Hans-Peter. 2011. Early Iron Age and Late Mediaeval malt finds
from Germany—attempts at reconstruction of early Celtic brewing and the taste of Celtic beer. Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences, Volume 3, Issue 1, pp. 41-48.

Dietrich, Oliver Dietrich, Manfred Heun, Jens Notroff, Klaus Schmidt, and Martin Zarnkow. 2012. The role of cult and feasting in the emergence of Neolithic communities. New evidence from Göbekli Tepe, south-eastern Turkey. Antiquity, Volume 86, Issue 333, pp. 674–695.

Wang, Jiajing, Leping Jiang, and Hanlong Sun. 2021. Early evidence for beer drinking in a 9000-year-old platform mound in southern China, PLOS ONE, Volume 16, Issue 8.

History, Scholarship, Social Drinking

Drunk

January 28, 2024 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

Drunk is both an adjective and a noun. The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines the former as “having the faculties impaired by alcohol”, and the latter as “one who is drunk”. Drunk is also the name of a book written by Edward Slingerland. The full title is “Drunk: How We Sipped, Danced, and Stumbled Our Way to Civilization”. It is a fascinating book and one I have just finished reading. The author, Slingerland, is Distinguished University Scholar and Professor of Philosophy at the University of British Columbia in Canada. While Slingerland is an academic, Drunk is a book that is written for a general audience.

The front cover of “Drunk” by Edward Slingerland

The basic thesis underpinning Slingerland’s treatise is that alcohol has played, and continues to play, an important role in society; a role that is generally beneficial both to the individual and to society as a collective entity. A key characteristic of alcohol is that it triggers the release of endorphins whose effects include enhancing a person’s overall mood, while decreasing anxiety and stress levels. In our transformed, more relaxed state, alcohol helps us “with the communal demands of being human” (p. 106).

Central to Slingerland’s thesis is that part of the human brain called the prefrontal cortex (PFC), which “plays a role in regulating emotions in interpersonal relationships and social situations.” Alcohol, however, temporarily disarms the PFC, the locus of rational thinking and self-control, and make us more playful, creative, emotional, and trusting. As a result, consumption of alcohol facilities social bonding among people who may not otherwise be pre-disposed to bond and work cooperatively. As noted by Slingerland, alcohol “functions to bind together non-related individuals” (p. 257) Indeed it has fulfilled this role for thousands of years.

One of the many examples given by Slingerland is Göbekli Tepe, a Neolithic archaeological site (home to the world’s oldest known megaliths) in eastern Turkey where disparate and otherwise unconnected groups of hunter-gatherers periodically met for the purposes of ritualistic feasting. Brewing vats and images of festivals dating to around 10,000 BC have been discovered at Göbekli Tepe.
The ancient beer that was brewed played a central role in the feasting that took place there. According to the Archaeologist Oliver Dietrich and his colleagues “at the dawn of the Neolithic, hunter-gatherers congregating at Göbekli Tepe created social and ideological cohesion through the carving of decorated pillars, dancing, feasting—and, almost certainly, the drinking of beer made from fermented wild crops.” This pattern of feasting and consuming alcohol was replicated in many ancient pre-agricultural societies throughout the world.

Göbekli Tepe in eastern Turkey, an ancient site of feasting and drinking of beer made from fermented wild crops

Slingerland provides numerous more contemporary examples of the benefits of moderate alcohol consumption. He talks about visiting the Whiskey Room on a Google campus where coders retire with colleagues to have a wee dram and engage in creative back-and-forth of ideas. He also tells of getting together with his graduate students and faculty members, post-seminar, in a pub on the UBC campus. Much of the conversation revolved around research ideas, with the end result being the establishment of a new research center, a multi-million dollar grant, and a slew of high impact research projects.

It should be noted that in addition to the real-world examples of the benefits of moderate alcohol consumption, Slingerland does cite and discuss many laboratory-based scientific studies which provide support for his central thesis. With respect to maximizing creativity, how much alcohol is beneficial? That particular sweet spot is a blood alcohol content of 0.08, or the equivalent of two beers with an an ABV of around 5%.

Slingerland is an advocate of social drinking. Indeed, in his final chapter he warns against the dangers of drinking alone. He cites the work of Robin Dunbar, an evolutionary psychologist. In 2017, Dunbar co-authored a paper in which he explored the functional benefits of moderate alcohol consumption. In particular, he found that people who have a pub they they frequent on a regular basis “tend to be more socially engaged, feel more contented and are more likely to trust other members of their community than those who do not drink at all”. Visiting the same pub on a regular basis often results in engaging in social drinking with other regular customers, thus providing patrons with a strong social network. Summing up Dunbar’s findings, “moderate, social drinking brings people together, keeps them connected to their communities, and lubricates the exchange of information and building of networks (p. 192).

Slingerland also touches on a topic that is close to my heart as a professional academic – the value of attending an academic conference, as opposed to participating via Zoom or a similar communication platform. As he so eloquently states, “a unique intellectual benefit provided by in-person academic or professional conferences is the networking, brainstorming, and idea-honing that goes on over meals, over coffee breaks, and most of all informal venues, as the day draws to an end and the intoxicants come out” (p. 180). Indeed it was at an academic conference in New York City in 2012 that a conversation, over a beer, with a colleague from Kennesaw State University was the catalyst for my first paper on the craft beer industry; thus The Beer Professor was born. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, many scientific organizations offer hybrid conferences, whereby participants can choose to participate in-person or virtually. Sadly, those who choose the latter option miss out on the added value that in-person attendance bestows. As Slingerland observes, “even the best videoconference is a poor substitute for the visceral buzz of interpersonal chemistry, catalyzed by chemical intoxicants, that comes from in-person socializing in pubs and cafes” (p. 181).

While Slingerland’s book outlines the benefits of drinking alcohol, it is important to note that he warns against its excessive consumption. Indeed, his final chapter is devoted to the dark side of consuming alcohol, with a discussion of topics such as the negative health consequences, drunk driving, and the role of alcohol in contributing to violence against women. He also discusses the discovery of distillation, by which humans were able to produce spirits whose Alcohol By Volume levels are significantly higher than that of either beer or wine. According to Slingerland, “the many functional benefits of alcohol notwithstanding, distillation radically increases its danger to both individuals and society” (p. 237). During the Industrial Revolution in Europe, beers such as Guinness were considered a temperance drink, while high potency distilled spirits were not. As noted by Mark Schrad , writing in Foreign Policy, the growing availability of distilled spirits in early 19th century Europe meant that “once jovial communal celebrations devolved into drunken riots“, while “murder, other crimes, and arson all increased”. This became a concern for European Socialists who saw the devastating effects of spirits on the working class, while lining the pockets of profit-minded and predatory capitalists. In Germany, the Social Democratic Party called for a nationwide boycott of schnapps but not beer. Emile Vandervelde, leader of the Belgian Labour Party and President of the Second International (a collaborative network of European socialist parties) held the position that there’s “no real difference between the moderate use of fermented beer or wine and the complete abstinence from alcohol.” Spirits, not beer and wine, were the real problem.

Slingerland’s book is a lively read. It is well written and follows a logical flow. Anyone interested in the history of alcohol and its role in societies, ranging from ancient to modern, will find it a worthwhile purchase.

Further Reading:

Dunbar, Robin I. M., Jacques Launay, Rafael Wlodarski, Cole Robertson, Eiluned Pearce, James Carney, and Pádraig MacCarron. 2016. Functional Benefits of (Modest) Alcohol Consumption. Adaptive Human Behavior and Physiology, Volume 3, Pages 118–133.

Schrad, Mark Lawrence. 2021. How Europe’s Temperance Movement Saved Beer. Foreign Policy, September 26.

Slingerland, Edward. 2021. Drunk: How We Sipped, Danced, and Stumbled Our Way to Civilization. Little, Brown Spark Publishers.

Craft Breweries, History, Michigan

From Paper to Beer: The Mill At Vicksburg

June 28, 2021 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

“Sooner or later, everything old is new again” wrote Stephen King, in his novel The Colorado Kid in 2005. He might have well said it as he gazed upon the restoration of the Mill at Vicksburg in 2021.

From a leading producer of fine paper in the early 20^th century, originally built by Lee Paper Company, eventually being abandoned at the beginning of the 21^st century this massive building will soon be home to a world class destination for craft beer lovers. It’s taken many years of hard work, vision, community relationships, and cooperation from a vast number of stakeholders to restore a 420,000 square foot building and transform it into a multi-faceted facility, set to open in 2025. In addition to housing a brewery, the Mill will house a boutique hotel, conference/event space, and a museum housing beer memorabilia. The Mill is located in the village of Vicksburg (population 2,906) which is located in Kalamazoo County, MI, and sits nicely equidistant between Chicago, IL and Detroit, MI – it is about 150 miles from both.

It all started with a phone call. Chris Moore, the visionary and now owner for the Mill at Vicksburg, received from his mother Sue back in 2014. The Mill had been part of the fabric of Vicksburg for nearly a century and after paper making had left the region, it had fallen into disrepair and talk of its demolition was becoming common. The Mill had been such an important part of Chris’s life, both his father and grandfather made careers there, along with some stints for him as a young man. It was the economic engine of the community and the thought of losing this giant seemed tragic, akin to losing a part of the community identity.

Chris Moore – the visionary behind the Mill at Vicksburg

After many meetings at the local, state, and federal level Chris managed to save the Mill while also preserving its integrity indefinitely, getting it added to the Federal Historic Registry. He also began forming what the future would hold for the Mill and how it could be an economic engine once again. Beer would be a big part of the Mill’s future.

Chris has a long-held passion for beer and brewing. It began in the 80s, influenced in part by the early efforts of Larry Bell in his first foray with Kalamazoo Brewing in the mid 1980s (eventually becoming the nationally renowned Bell’s Brewery and then working at Widmer Brothers Brewing in 1989, another early pioneer in America’s brewing renaissance.

In 2016 Chris and co-founder Brian Stan opened Old Stove Brewing Co. in Pike Place Market in Seattle, WA. Old Stove has since expanded to the MarketFront of Pike Place. Their brews have won awards and the connection between the legendary gastronomic offerings of Pike Place and their beer will continue at the Mill. The importance of pairing food and beer adds to a rich layer of offerings that are being developed for the project in Vicksburg. In opening Old Stove Brewing , Chris said he felt like he was ‘standing on the shoulder of giants’ referencing all the hard work, including the tough legislative efforts pioneers like Kurt Widmer made, paving the way for thousands of breweries. It didn’t stop there. Many of these early trailblazers even had to build their own brewery equipment to see their vision through. These early influences helped shape the opportunity Chris saw to leverage his passion for beer, brewing, and history while turning the Mill into something very special once again.

Chris’s deep fascination with the beer industry also includes unique and rare brewery memorabilia which he began collecting many years ago. With so much history behind the Mill at Vicksburg it was only logical that these artifacts of American brewing history would be preserved and celebrated; ideally, while enjoying a delicious brew. Leaning on reputable collectors and historians, the breweriana collection has grown substantially and will have its own museum in Vicksburg called the Cone Top Brewery Museum. The Mill is working closely with the National Association of Breweriana Advertising to collaborate on the museum.

The Mill at Vicksburg has a growing breweriana collection

Something as monumental as revitalizing the Mill cannot be done in a vacuum, and the Village of Vicksburg is a big part of what will make the Mill successful. Chris has wryly stated that ‘all roads lead to Vicksburg’, leaning on the broad infrastructure of transportation that allowed the vast papermaking industry in SW Michigan to thrive for nearly a century. Road and rail are abundant, but massive economic inputs of a project this size are significant. Vicksburg is a very charming and historic town, but like many downtowns across the Midwest, efforts need to be made to preserve and celebrate the architecture, commerce, and vibrancy to support future growth. Chris has assembled a team to help him support the Village’s efforts to not only preserve the history and vitality but also help prepare it for a significant economic lift the Mill will once again bring.

As chronicled elsewhere in this blog, the resurgence of brewing across America started with homebrewing. Homebrewing and craft brewing are intertwined in countless ways across the country. Larry Bell started as a homebrewer before opening his own homebrew equipment shop. On the other side of the country, the legendary Ken Grossman started Sierra Nevada Brewing Co., after finding his passion in homebrewing. The Mill will have features that celebrate homebrewing history and its future, the final scope of which will be finalized in the coming years. Homebrewers are perhaps the greatest advocates for craft brewing and a vital part of its identity. The Mill wants to recognize the grassroots history, entrepreneurialism and passion that has built, not only a national industry but a global one.

History will be part of the fabric that weaves through the ecosystem of the Mill, including of course, brewing. Over the last three decades innovative American craft brewers have created new styles and processes, while continuing to search for resources to create even more distinct brews. Going back over a century, rural brewers across the country and abroad had to utilize resources that were available locally, from grains to yeast. Chris has long felt the need to support American farming, sponsoring Cascadia Grains since 2016 and the Great Lakes Hop and Barley Conference since 2017. Vitality and diversity are critical for healthy agriculture and in turn, brewing. Further, it supports brewing innovation, a pillar of craft brewing enterprise. Brewing at the Mill will embrace brewing history, its rural roots, innovation and support the local farming community.

There is much, much more to share and celebrate about the future of the Mill at Vicksburg, particularly on the brewing side. With the Mill slated to open in a few years, stay tuned for more details about how the Mill will be a compelling destination for all those that love history, music, and of course, delicious brews.

Guest Blogger

This blog entry was written by guest blogger, Brian Bastien.

Brian Bastien

A passionate advocate of the craft beer industry, Brian’s brewery career began as a homebrewer before completing a BA at University of Western Ontario, in Economics. His 20-plus years of experience leading teams and building markets across North America includes senior roles with Moosehead, Carlsberg, and most recently as a VP with Newlands Systems, a custom brewery equipment manufacturer. While studying an International MBA at the University of Wales, he wrote a dissertation on strategic brewery brand growth across global markets. Brian is leading the brewery and distillery strategy, planning and design for The Mill’s multi-brewery facility, a vital economic driver for the redevelopment. The beverage operations will concurrently accomplish the goals of tenant attraction, job creation, and destination tourism for The Mill. Active in community roles, Brian has over ten years of leadership experience serving local non-profits, most recently serving as president and chair for the Women in Need Society in Calgary, Canada. In 2018 he finished brewery studies in Chicago at the World Brewing Academy and completed distillery studies at Siebel in 2019.

History, International, People

Reid’s Brewery

May 4, 2021 The Beer Professor 2 Comments

A few weeks ago I was on the Internet and decided to Google my surname – Reid. According to Ancestry.com the name Reid means:

“nickname for a person with red hair or a ruddy complexion, from Older Scots reid ‘red’. topographic name for someone who lived in a clearing, from Old English r¯d ‘woodland clearing’.”

Ancestry.com also informed me that between 1841 and 1921, there were more Reids in Scotland than in any other country. I remember reading, many years ago, that it was one of the most common surnames in Scotland. Again, a little Googling confirmed this. In 2014, it was the 11th most common surname in Scotland.

Even more interesting was the fact that in 1840, according to Ancestry.com, there were 51 Reid families living in Ohio (for those of you that do not know me, I was born in and grew up in Scotland, but now live in Ohio). This represented approximately 10% of all the recorded Reid’s living in the United States. Indeed, in 1840, Ohio had the highest population of families named Reid in the US.

Number of Reids by State in 1840 (Source: Ancestry.com)

What does any of the above have to do with beer? Nothing actually, except it was while I was down this Google rabbit hole searching the Reid name that I discovered that in 19th century London, UK there was a brewery called Reid Brewery Co. Ltd. My attention peaked and I did a little internet sleuthing to see what I could discover about the brewery that bore my name.

I begin the story of the Reid Brewery in 1775, when Richard Meux and Mungo Murray formed a partnership and purchased Jackson’s Brewery in London’s Mercer Street. The purchase price was £15,000. Coincidentally, Mercer happens to be my late-Mother’s maiden name. The brewery suffered a major fire in 1763 Rather than rebuild in the same location, Meux and Murray decided to build a new new brewery on the somewhat appropriately named Liquorpond Street (now Clerkenwell Street). A new name, Griffin Brewery, was also agreed upon by the two business partners. In 1790, Murray made the decision to leave the partnership.

In 1787, Griffin Brewery produced an impressive 49,651 barrels of beer. In 1793, Andrew Reid, a distiller and wine and spirit merchant, became a partner with Meux, and formed what then became Meux, Reid & Co. The brewery’s annual output continued to grow and reached an excess of 100,000 barrels for the first time in 1795.

In 1797, Richard Meux Jr. and Andrew Reid’s brother, John, became partners in the brewery. In 1816 Thomas Meux resigned from the partnership, which then became Reid & Co. At the time of Meux’s resignation the brewery’s annual production was 190,000 barrels. In the years following Meux’s resignation Reid & Co. purchased several smaller breweries in both London and its environs. John Reid died in 1821 and his brother, Andrew, died in 1840. William Reid, son of Andrew Reid, maintained the Reid family’s interest in the brewery.

By 1853, Reid’s was London fourth largest brewery – there were somewhere in the region of 160 breweries n London at this time. The primary style of beer brewed by Reid’s was Porter. In all likelihood, some of that beer made its way to India to supply the British army there. In 1898 Reid & Co merged with the large London brewer Watney and another brewer, Combe and Co. This is considered the first big merger to take place in the British brewing industry. After the merger, Griffin Brewery on Liquidpond Street (owned by Reid) was closed. Production was concentrated in Watney’s Stag Brewery in the Pimlico district of London. The merged entity, Watney, Combe, Reid, became a major force in London brewing.

The Reid brand name continued to be used until the 1950s. In the early 1950s Watney’s was brewing and bottling three variants of their Reid’s Stout – Reid’s Stout, Reid’s Family Stout, and Reid’s Special Stout. Two versions of the Reid’s Stout was available – one with an ABV of 4.39% and the other with an ABV of 6.75%. The Family and Special Stout had ABVs of 3.21 and 4.72% respectively.

While the original brewing company bearing the Reid name is long gone, there is at least one craft brewery in the United Kingdom bearing the name – Reids Gold Brewing Company in Stonehaven, Scotland, which was established by Barry Reid in 2018.

History, Holidays, Labels, Rituals

Christmas Ales

December 17, 2020 The Beer Professor Leave a comment

The Book of Ecclesiastes wisely states that “there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens”. Adapted to the world of craft beer the appropriate sentiment might read that “there is a time for everything, and a season for every beer under the heavens”. While the seemingly ubiquitous IPAs are enjoyed year round there are several styles of beer that are associated with particular periods on the calendar. While I am not a fan off pumpkin beers I know plenty of people who look forward to their appearance each fall. Oktoberfest Marzens, in contrast, is a style whose arrival I eagerly await. And as I write this we are a few weeks away from Christmas, and Christmas Ales are in abundance. I do enjoy Christmas Ales and currently have a six-pack of one from Bell’s Brewery of Comstock, MI sitting in my basement refrigerator.

Christmas Ale from a Bell’s Brewery in Comstock, MI

Earlier this week, I gave a talk on a Christmas Ales to alumni of the University of Toledo. With the Covid-19 pandemic in full swing it was a virtual talk. When I agreed to give the talk I knew a little bit about Christmas Ales, but learned more about them as I did some research. Christmas Ales have their origins in pre-Christian pagan rituals. Take Norway as an example. Long before Christianity, Norwegians celebrated the winter solstice by brewing and drinking beer to honor Odin, Frey, and other Norse gods. The period was known as Jul, and stretched from mid-November to mid-January. Indeed the brewing of Ale was one of the most important tasks of the early winter season, with the first brew often laid out or poured on a stone for the local gnomes and spirits. Peasants would travel to the local pagan temple, bringing along food and ale for a feast Everyone was expected to take part in the drinking of Ale The first toast was to be made to Odin, then the other gods. Additional toasts were then drunk to the memory of the departed. No Norwegian farm was complete without a brewhouse — the bryggehus – this was the case up until about 200 years ago.

King Hakon the Good, who ruled Norway from 934 to 961 made it illegal to celebrate Christmas without Ale. Those who didn’t have Ale at their Christmas feast were issued a fine. In the 13th century the Gulating, an annual parliamentary assembly that met in Gulen on Norway’s west coast, passed a law similar to the decree issued by Haakon the Good. According to the Gulating:

“Yet another beer brew we are required to make, man and wife from equal amounts of malts, and to bless it Christmas night in thanks to Christ and St. Mary, for a good year and peace.

If this is not done, three marks must be paid to the bishop. But if someone sits three winters without doing so, or cannot pay the fees that we have added for our religion, and this can be proven, then he has forfeited every penny of his worth. The king shall have half, and the bishop the other half. But he may confess his sins and make church penance and stay in Norway. If he will not he shall leave the realm of our king.”

Fines and possible banishment from the kingdom indicate how seriously Christmas Ale was taken in 13th century Norway.

King Hakan the Good issued a decree making it illegal to celebrate Christmas without Ale

12 Dogs of Christmas Ale contains honey, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg

After talking about Christmas Ales in Medieval Norway, I turned my attention to Christmas Ales in modern-day America. Interestingly enough, Christmas Ale is not a recognized beer style – at least not by the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) or the Brewers Association. The BJCP does include a Winter Seasonal Beer among its list of over 150 recognized styles. So what is a Winter Seasonal Beer and what are its defining characteristics? According to the BJCP Winter Seasonal Beers “suggest cold weather and the Christmas holiday season, and may include holiday spices, specialty sugars, and other products that are reminiscent of mulling spices or Christmas holiday desserts”, while “a wide range of aromatics is possible” including those “reminiscent of Christmas cookies, gingerbread, English-type Christmas pudding, evergreen trees, or mulling spices.” For example, 12 Dogs of Christmas Ale, brewed by Thirsty Dog Brewing Co. of Akron, OH includes honey, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg. The flavor of a Christmas Ale will reflect the spices used in the brewing process. In terms of appearance, Christmas Ales tend to be generally medium amber to very dark brown, with darker versions being are more common.

While they have existed in Europe for over a thousand years, Christmas Ales first made their appearance in the United States in the early 1900s. Prohibition arrived in 1920 and lasted until 1933, making American Christmas Ale fairly short lived. They did not reappear in the aftermath Prohibition. Indeed, it was not until 1978 that Christmas Ales reappeared on the American brewing landscape. And we have Fritz Maytag and Anchor Brewing in San Francisco to thank for that. Founded in 1896, the brewery was on the verge of going out of business when Maytag purchased a 51% share in 1965. Maytag rejuvenated the brewery’s fortunes, partly by expanding its portfolio of beers to include IPAs, Barleywine, and Porters. In 1975 Maytag introduced the first Christmas Ale to be brewed in the United States since the end of Prohibition – Anchor’s Christmas Ale.

Anchor Brewing was struggling until Fritz Maytag purchased a 51% share of the brewery in 1965

Each year Anchor’s Christmas Ale is brewed using a different recipe and over the years it has evolved from a Pale Ale to spiced Brown Ale. Not only does the recipe change from year to year, but so does the beer’s distinctive label. The label always features a tree, but a different tree each year. Between 1975 and 2019 (with the exception of 1976), the labels were all designed by the same artist – 93 year-old Jim Stitt. His decision to retire, however, meant that the 2019 label was the last one designed by Stitt. The 2020 label was designed by Nathan Yoder. Given the unique challenges that 2020 has presented Yoder opted for a label that featured The Three Graces, a trio of sequoia trees, which represent radiance, joy, and hope. After the year that we have all just experienced I think that it’s safe to say that we would welcome all three of these in abundance.

TheBeerProfessor

Category Archives: History

The Tavern Reborn: Rediscovering America’s Original Third Place

Drink Wisconsibly

Welcome to Wrexham (Lager)

Remembering the Edmund Fitzgerald

Guinness and the Student’s t-test

The Past on Tap: Ancient Beer in Celtic Europe

From Paper to Beer: The Mill At Vicksburg

Reid’s Brewery

Christmas Ales

Musings on Beer