A week from today, leadership overseeing the Boston Beer suite of brands – most notably Samuel Adams beer – will present their Q1 earnings report. If recent hints by founder Jim Koch are any indication, there’s reason to suspect (conspiratorially or not) that it may not be all sunshine and roses.
The last few years have been tough for Boston Beer. Declining interest across a variety of brands accounted for a 7% drop in dollar sales for the Sam Adams portfolio in 2016, sentiment that has only continued into this year.
Through nearly the first quarter of 2017, Boston Lager dollar sales dropped around 8% compared to the same timeframe last year. Rebel, the IPA that was supposed to reinvigorate interest in the brand, got remade to start this year. It’s down 20% in dollar sales so far in grocery, convenience and other bread-and-butter stores for the company.
I, like many others, see Sam Adams as the brand that launched a lifetime of beer geekdom. But things are changing rapidly for the company. For longtime devotees, it’s not much for better as it is worse.
Today is April 8, Saison Day, a fake holiday created for the beer community because if Hallmark can pull it off why can’t we?
I often poke fun of such occasions on Twitter, but with consideration, perhaps today *is* a good time to recognize the style, full of life in its effervescence and yeast-driven flavor. In many ways, saison is an ideal beer for where we currently find the American beer industry. Its malleability presents brewers with plenty of ways to approach its final product, creating something as simple and refreshing as a table beer or as hoppy as our beloved IPAs.
Which is why, in terms of “trends,” saison may be a fun one to watch.
This morning, Good Beer Hunting published a Sightlines piece I wrote examining the essential forfeiture of the Brewers Association’s goal of 20 percent market share by 2020.
At the end of 2016, BA-defined market share stood at 12.3 percent. Nothing to scoff at, considering how the industry continued to grow last year. But the truth of the matter is the goal of “20 by 20” is based on a self-prescribed definition of what “craft” is and isn’t. So I was intrigued by this question I got after the story went live:
@BryanDRoth absolutely. Do you know the craft share using IRI's definition instead of the BA's?
What was once an idea of gaining 20 percent market share – something actually written into the organization’s mission statement in 2014 – has now more or less faded into the stark contrast of a reality where merger and acquisition activity can easily strip millions of barrels away from “craft” defined beer.
But instead of adhering to the artificial placement of the word “craft,” what if we rearranged what is allowed to be included in this equation? Is the goal of 20 percent then attainable?
Anonymous sources are not unusual. In many cases, they are vital.
The contacts made by journalists, and the information they provide, are often pivotal for the success of the Fourth Estate. While Deep Throat is among our country’s most famous examples, there are daily reminders in all forms of media of men and women who circumvent risks and obligations to provide insight into the world around us we may not see, or share personal stories that can be too threatening to safety and well being.
But in some rare instances, anonymity is provided as a favor. The stakes aren’t as great and, under deadline or perceived necessity, names are retracted to appease. Maybe a story doesn’t seem as complete. Generally, this practice is frowned upon.
Among the many reasons why someone’s name needs to stay secret, the threshold was apparently crossed recently when an employee at Indiana’s Route 2 Brews didn’t feel comfortable talking on the record about overtly sexist branding created by the business.
You familiar with Panera Bread or Five Guys? Ever visit a food truck? Each kind of business represents a part of the fastest-growing segment of the dining industry, known as “fast-casual.”
The premise is simple: a step above “traditional,” expected fast-food, but not the kind of sit-down experience you receive at restaurants. No servers. Relatively little fuss. In essence, it’s a way to create a more direct connection between customer and choice, even if that literally means taking out a middleman to put you and the creator of your food face-to-face.
What’s worth noticing about the increased attention and interest of this format of consumption is how it can also be part of broader social trends. It’s an extension of what the past decade has offered entrepreneurs and consumers in the wake of the Great Recession. New ways to approach how we give and receive goods and services.
The rise of fast-casual may not be unique to the 21st century, but it’s prominence in our preferences – creating gastro-social bonds we thought lost in the gluttony of early aughts dining – showcases a new awareness of who we want to be as eaters and drinkers. In phases of our lives, we’re searching for stronger connections to what’s around us, all the while inching ourselves back to avoid the harm that comes from too much personal investment. Get what you want, feel it’s coming from a trustworthy source, and complete the transaction.
Is it a behavior influenced by our experience of financial turmoil just years ago? Is it due to our changing relationships in the real and digital world? Whatever the reason, at least the common thread weaving these and other possible answers together is that as human beings, we’re trying to find ways to make connections.
In some ways, one could argue brewing and many other acts of production have been on life support for centuries during humanity’s slow march forward with machinery and automation. Our innovation and ingenuity has dwindled romanticized approaches we hold dear, as “artisans” shift from laborious hands on work to efforts that require more button pushing than muscle straining.
But art doesn’t “die,” it merely evolves with the times. The same can be said about brewing. Just because computers can do more work in the process of creating a fermented beverage doesn’t mean human beings are suffering from a lack of creativity. It’s likely to be a successful argument that rather than dying, brewing has never been more alive.
So perhaps the issue Brian Grossman brings up isn’t a life-or-death scenario. Rather, it’s a worried thought about what it means to be associated with the “craft” of brewing and the quality of what comes from it.
There are a lot of layers when it comes to “best beer” lists. Subjective opinion, especially on experiential goods, is perfect for controversy. A limited list is going to leave something out of consideration, then it’s left to others and an almost innate need to fill in the gaps.
This is one of the reasons I love curating my annual “best beer” list, because as much as it can, it makes the process more objective by consulting numerous people and viewpoints. It may not be perfect, but it’s an excellent way to get a feel for the trends and topics that drive a year in beer.
An initial analysis of RateBeer’s top 100 beers from 2016 has seemingly added context to a growing body of evidence documented on this blog concerning the connection between beer styles, rarity and perception of quality. This is not meant to be seen as a “good or bad” thing, although you’re free to assume how you wish. But rather, as we’re able to compile data to support our experiences, it simply becomes “a thing” that we need to address.
Last month we took a look at 2016’s best beers as selected by writers, bloggers and beer enthusiasts.
Today, we step it up to an annual celebration of “best” by one of the Internet’s main beer reviewing websites, RateBeer. The site recently held their annual RateBeer Fest where it released a collection of best beers of the year, according to the reviews of users and weighted by performance within and outside of style.
As in yearspast, the list of 100 beers offers a good opportunity for analysis, especially as we gain a better understanding on the psychological impacts of choice when it comes to beer and perception of quality. This collection may not break new ground in terms of better understanding trends, but it does offer insight into preferences and beer culture.
So grab your abacus and put in your pocket protector, because it’s time to crunch some numbers.
This past weekend was a momentous one for the United States, signaling literal and figurative change throughout our government, prompting a variety of actions and reactions from passionate Americans across the political spectrum.
The presidency of Donald Trump has emboldened and impassioned all sorts, including those in beer.
Over the past year, I’ve written several times about the idea of “authenticity,” culminating in a recent post examining the role it plays in our perception of beer quality. A collection of research was shared in that piece, including the psychological connection between drinker and brewery.
Which poses an interesting question for those in the beer business: is it a good idea to go political?
We find ourselves in a unique time as beer lovers. Everything and anything is available to us. Whatever we want, whenever we want it.
With a record number of breweries nationwide, more than 5,000 businesses are creating a vast array of styles and flavor experiences, often nearby where we live. According to the Brewers Association, roughly three-quarters of drinking-age adults in the U.S. live within 10 miles of a brewery.
The flip side of this freedom of choice is the natural competition that comes with it. Keeping an IPA on tap is important to satiate American drinkers’ love for all things lupulin, but today’s brewery faces challenges presented by all the other entrants into the industry, roughly two a day. Finding a niche, or, at least, creating one, is a pivotal part of the business, whether it’s as a brewery as a whole or simply providing novel experiences every time someone walks through taproom doors.
Increasingly, the process of creating something “rare” is playing a larger role for brewers. This could be a celebrated one-off beer with limited quantities or a dedicated tap on-location that serves creations never to leave the premises. As businesses grow, evolve and consider how best to position themselves, the use of rarity in all its varieties has potential to impact breweries, industry tastemakers and drinkers.