Beyond Pilsener: Exploring Ecuador’s Emerging Craft Beer Scene

Earlier this month, I had the opportunity to visit Quito, Ecuador, to attend the 15th World Congress of the Regional Science Association International (RSAI). During the conference, I delivered two presentations, including one that examined adaptive reuse practices within the American craft brewing industry.

Ecuador was the fourth Latin American country I had visited, having already spent time in Brazil (Sao Paulo), Chile (Santiago and Valparaiso), and Mexico (Mexico City). Getting there was relatively straightforward – a flight from Detroit to Atlanta, where I made my connection for the approximately 5-hour flight to Quito. Usually when I fly that kind of distance, it involves traversing multiple time zones. But as Quito is south-southeast of Detroit, the time difference is only one hour.

From a geographer’s perspective, Quito is a fascinating city. Nestled high in the Andes Mountains, the city sits at an elevation of 9,350 feet (2,850 meters) above sea level. Its dramatic setting and high altitude made it unlike any other city I had visited. While elevations such as these can cause altitude sickness in some visitors, I was fortunate to experience only mild effects. The most noticeable was a shortness of breath during the 15- to 20-minute walk between my hotel and the conference venue, a constant reminder of just how high above sea level I was.

Quito sits at an elevation of 9,350 feet (2,850 meters) above sea level.

Quito is also just a few miles south of the Equator. It was about 16 miles (26 kilometers) from my central city hotel. Of course, I had to visit, so on the final afternoon of the conference, three colleagues and I took a taxi there.

Straddling the Equator just outside of Quito

But what about beer? What is happening in Ecuador with respect to this much-loved beverage? The Ecuadorian beer market is highly concentrated, with just five brewing companies accounting for approximately 95% of total beer sales. Cervecería Nacional, a subsidiary of AB InBev and the world’s largest brewing company, is the market leader and producer of Ecuador’s best-selling beer, Pilsener. The company’s strongest competitor is Heineken Ecuador, which has steadily expanded its market presence recently through aggressive marketing and distribution strategies. Beer consumption in Ecuador is overwhelmingly dominated by lager, which accounts for roughly 85% of all beer consumed. As in many other countries, consumers are increasingly choosing non-alcoholic beer.

I enjoyed quite a few Pilseners, Ecuador’s best-selling beer, while in Quito

Since the early 2000s, craft beer has grown steadily in popularity in Ecuador, although it still accounts for only about 1% of the national beer market. The country is now home to more than 100 craft breweries, and in 2014 brewers formed the Asociación de Cervecerías Artesanales del Ecuador (ASOCERV) to promote and strengthen the sector. Like the American craft beer industry, Ecuador’s craft brewing community has a strong spirit of collaboration. Brewers frequently support one another – for example by lending hops to a neighboring brewery while it awaits a new shipment – reflecting a cooperative culture that has helped fuel the industry’s growth.

Given the relatively small size of Ecuador’s craft beer market, I expected craft beer to be difficult to find during my visit to Quito. Much to my surprise, the opposite was true. My hotel offered several craft beer options, and nearly every bar I visited included locally brewed craft beer on its menu. From my experience it was clear to me that craft beer has established a visible presence in the city’s drinking culture.

Craft beer in Quito was more ubiquitous than I had anticipated. Here I am enjoying an Ecuadoran craft beer with my friend and colleague Bruce at a bar/cafe

A brewery whose beers I particularly enjoyed was Amerik (pronounced Amerikah). One afternoon, a few colleagues and I were wandering through Quito’s historic center when the skies suddenly opened and a torrential downpour sent us scrambling for cover. Instead of just waiting for the storm to pass, we decided to find a place to enjoy a good local beer. After several unsuccessful attempts, a helpful local pointed us toward the Viajero Quito Hostel, home to the small but highly regarded Amerik Brewery. It turned out to be one of the best beer discoveries of our trip.

Established shortly before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic by Oscar Artundva and Gina Valera, Amerik is a true nano-brewery. In addition to serving its beers on draft, the brewery produces a small number of hand-bottled releases, with each bottle capped manually. Amerika’s portfolio consists of five beers – a Belgian Blonde, IPA, Oatmeal Stout, Porter, and Red Ale. The quality of its beer has been recognized nationally, with both the Belgian Blonde and Oatmeal Stout earning Bronze and gold medals, respectively, at the Copa Cervecera Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World Beer Cup), Ecuador’s premier craft beer competition.

Four of Amerik’s beer were on draft when I visited the Viajero Quito Hostel

As my visit to Quito demonstrated, Ecuador offers much more than its spectacular geography and rich cultural heritage. Although the country’s beer market remains dominated by a handful of large breweries and traditional lagers, a vibrant craft beer scene has emerged and is steadily gaining recognition. What impressed me most was not just the beer’s quality but also the brewers’ enthusiasm and creativity in shaping this young industry. Breweries such as Amerik show that excellent beer can be produced on a very small scale, driven by passion, craftsmanship, and a commitment to quality.

For me, the trip was a reminder that one of the joys of traveling is discovering local beer cultures and the stories behind them. From drinking a cold Pilsener while adjusting to Quito’s high altitude to stumbling upon a nano-brewery during a torrential Andean downpour, Ecuador provided a memorable blend of professional engagement, geographic exploration, and beer discovery. It may not yet rank among the world’s major craft beer destinations, but based on what I experienced in Quito, it is certainly a country worth watching – and one I would happily visit again, both as a geographer and as a beer enthusiast.

What Lies Beneath: The Hidden Art of Beer Steins

Last month, I had the chance to visit Schedel Arboretum & Gardens in Elmore, Ohio, about 21 miles southeast of Toledo. Now operated by the nonprofit Schedel Foundation, the 17-acre estate was once the home of Joe and Marie Schedel. Passionate travelers, the Schedels visited more than 120 countries and, along the way, assembled remarkable collections of art, antiques, jewelry, carved jade, archaic bronze, and – perhaps most notably – plants.

The beautiful Schedel Arboretum & Gardens in Elmore, OH

In addition to its beautifully landscaped arboretum and gardens, the property is also home to the Blair Museum of Lithophanes. Founded by Toledo native Laurel Gotshall Blair (1909–1993), an avid traveler much like the Schedels, the museum houses what became the world’s largest collection of lithophanes, with more than 3,000 pieces.

The term lithophane, derived from the Greek words litho (stone) and phainein (to make visible), refers to a three-dimensional translucent porcelain plaque that reveals detailed images when illuminated from behind. These plaques, produced in a variety of shapes – including rectangular, square, and oval – have been used for decorative and functional purposes such as candle screens, table panels, lamp shades, and night lights. Lithophanes originated in early 19th century Europe, with French diplomat Baron Paul de Bourgoin generally credited for developing the modern production technique, which he patented in 1827.

Candle shield lithophane

Lithophanes were rarely the work of a single, well-known artist in the modern sense. Instead, they were typically produced by teams of skilled- though largely anonymous – engravers and porcelain craftsmen working within major European factories. While lithophanes were made across several countries, Germany quickly emerged as the dominant center of production, led by the Königliche Porzellan‑Manufaktur (KPM) in Berlin, the most influential producer of the 19th century.

As I browsed the collection of lithophanes, I was surprised to find several beer steins with lithophanes embedded in their bases. Although I had encountered many steins before – often in antique shops – I had never seen one featuring this distinctive element. Before examining the connection between lithophanes and beer steins, however, it is useful to begin with a brief overview of the steins themselves.

One of the beer steins on display in the Blair Museum of Lithophanes
A lithophane at the bottom of one of the beer steins at the Blair Museum of Lithophanes

The term stein is a shortened form of the German word Steinzeugkrug, meaning a stoneware jug or tankard. Over time, however, this term became associated with a distinctive style of drinking vessel. What distinguishes beer steins from other drinking vessels is their design, which typically includes both a handle and a hinged lid. Their development is linked to the public health measures that followed the bubonic plague, which killed millions of Europeans in the 14th century. Because the disease was spread by fleas carried by rodents, authorities in parts of what is now Germany introduced hygiene regulations requiring that food and drink containers be covered- leading to the characteristic lidded design of the beer stein. During this same period – specifically in 1516 – the Reinheitsgebot, or Bavarian Purity Law, was enacted. This regulation limited the ingredients of beer to just three: water, barley, and hops, with the goal of preventing the use of harmful or potentially toxic additives.

The incorporation of lithophanes into beer steins dates to the late nineteenth century, when advances in porcelain manufacturing made increasingly sophisticated decorative techniques possible. By this period, lithophanes had become especially common in regimental (military) steins, which were often commissioned by soldiers as commemorative pieces marking their service. The images themselves varied widely. Many were playful – or even risqué – featuring nude figures or couples in suggestive poses, while others were more sentimental, depicting domestic scenes such as a sweetheart reading a letter or convivial moments in a tavern. Today, these steins are highly valued by collectors, with authentic pre‑1914 regimental examples typically commanding prices in the range of $300 to $1,200.

In the end, what made the visit so memorable was not just the scale of the Blair Museum’s collection, but the way it revealed connections between art, beer, and everyday life. The lithophanes embedded in these beer steins – hidden from view until the beer is consumed – offer a fitting metaphor for the experience itself: unexpected details emerging only when one looks a little closer. What might at first seem like a simple object becomes a window into nineteenth‑century technology, aesthetics, and social customs. Set within the tranquil setting of the Schedel Arboretum & Gardens, the museum serves as a reminder that even in quiet corners of northwest Ohio, one can encounter artifacts that illuminate a much broader cultural and historical landscape.