Is Beer Vegan?

The question was recently raised about whether or not craft beer (or beer in general) can be considered vegan. As people become more conscious about what they eat and where their food comes from, and especially as organic claims and certification more often than not blur the lines of truth and nutrition, this can be a genuine concern to those on restricted diets.

First of all, all beer is clearly a vegetarian foodstuff. Vegetarianism is the abstaining from eating the flesh of all animals, and no meat products are ever used in any brewing process of any kind. (Medieval recipes exist for variations on a rather unappealing brewed beverage known as cock ale, but that is a topic for another day.)

However, modern veganism is much more restrictive than a traditional vegetarian diet. As defined by the American Vegan Society, “[t]he vegan diet excludes flesh, fish, fowl, dairy products (animal milk, butter, cheese, yogurt, etc.), eggs, honey, animal gelatin, and all other foods of animal origin.” This means avoiding not only animal flesh but all animal byproducts and derivatives.

From simply an ingredient standpoint, most beer can be considered wholly vegan. Even the most adventurous craft beers include nothing but malted grains, hops, water, fruit or spice additions, and yeast. (Any beer containing honey obviously cannot be considered vegan.) Yeast itself is classified as a fungus, so although it is an independent microorganism it should offer no objection as mushrooms and tofu are acceptable to the vegan diet.

The point at which some beers may garner the disapproval of vegans lies in the various methods used for clarification of the beverage. Many craft brewers prefer to leave their beers unfiltered as it can enhance body and flavor, so these should offer no objection whatsoever. But an additional clarification step at the end of the brewing process can be problematic, depending on the method used.

One popular method of clarifying beer is the addition of finings near the end of the brewing process. Finings are materials that function as flocculation points for yeast in suspension to collect and eventually sink to the bottom under their own weight, where they can be easily removed in bulk. Even though very little of the fining material remains in the finished product, this practice is enough to render the beer non-vegan if animal byproducts are used.

Specifically, at one time brewers used a material known as isinglass as a fining material. Isinglass is a collagen product obtained from the swim bladders of sturgeon, and it has a few other cooking applications in confectionery and dessert-making. However, many modern brewers are abandoning the use of isinglass in industrial brewing—not over vegan objections but simply due to the expense, as the material has become quite costly.

Another fining material very popular with homebrewers is known as Irish moss. Irish moss is a red algae containing carrageenan that looks much like any other herb when dried, and is of course wholly vegan. Other fining substances such as gelatin from fats, casein from cheesemaking or albumen from chicken eggs are so rarely used any more they are virtually nonexistent within the modern commercial brewing industry.

Most clarification processes used today do not involve added finings at all but instead rely upon physical filtration methods. The beer flows through either a very fine-grade industrial microporous screen or, more commonly, diatomaceous earth. Diatomaceous earth is a chalk-like mineral product formed from the fossilized remains of diatoms, or phytoplankton with a calcareous skeleton. It is cheap, easy to replace and recycle, and is the preferred method of filtration for many craft brewers today.

Of course, nothing beats first-hand information. Virtually all American craft beer on the market today is wholly compliant with the vegan philosophy, but if you are still concerned talk to the brewer directly. Most would be happy to explain their process to you and rather flattered that you showed such a detailed interest in their profession.

Beer Across Texas

Even though Texas has a history of brewing as long as the state’s existence, it is a relative newcomer to the national craft beer movement currently in progress. Compared to other states like Colorado and Oregon, the number of Texas brewers is minor but growing. Nevertheless, some sort of guidebook for Texas breweries has been long overdue.

This story begins about two years ago with a casual correspondence between myself and my long-time friend, Travis Poling. Until recently a business reporter for the San Antonio Express-News, Travis’ typical beer-related conversation on one occurrence yielded this item: He was working on a guidebook for Texas breweries, and already had a publisher interested.

I responded by saying that I, too, was working on a book for Texas breweries, and thus a collaboration was born. The state was divided up and some tasty research was conducted, with the result finally to be released this week as Beer Across Texas: A Guide to the Brews and Brewmasters of the Lone Star State.

The “Golden Age” of modern Texas brewing occurred soon after brewpubs were legalized in 1993. With that new idea in the marketplace and the wealth generated by the emerging dot-com industries, we saw dozens of microbreweries and brewpubs pop up like weeds from entrepreneurs and enthusiasts flush with cash.

But craft brewing is not an easy business and (to be honest) not all those who jumped into the fad should have been there. Craft beer was a hard sell early on, especially in a state with two national breweries and a population that once considered Lone Star and Shiner “specialty” beers. Combined with the financial downturn of the late 1990s and early 2000s, a scant handful of those early brewers have survived until today.

Now that the adolescent batch of brewers has come and gone, we are currently experiencing a Renaissance in the Texas craft beer scene. Although not as numerous as the previous wave of brewers, today we have more active—and financially stable—brewers than at any time since 2001, some 9 microbreweries and about 23 independent brewpubs spread across the state. Even more are planned for 2010.

Mine and Travis’ hope is that Beer Across Texas can become the “official” guide for beer tourism in the State of Texas. Included in it are all details, descriptions, original photographs and contact information for all currently operational craft brewers and brewpubs in our state, as well as a few notable beer-centric locations. We also have a short history of Texas brewing and a guide to a few beer styles and commercial favorites brewed here.

Beer Across Texas is published by Maverick Publishing of San Antonio, who also publish a similar book for wines, The Wine Roads of Texas by Wes Marshall. Work is ongoing to keep this beer guide updated and current, so that subsequent editions can best reflect the growing craft brewing industry of Texas and this book can continue to be an effective travel guide and reference.

The book should be available this week at Amazon or at any commercial book store such as Borders or Barnes & Noble, with a list price of $12.95. It is suitable for both the casual craft beer drinker, reader and traveler as well as those who work in the craft brewing industry. You should buy two, because you might spill beer on one.

Contract Brewing

At their initial stages, some brewers do not have the necessary funds to establish, staff and open a fully functioning craft brewery. Other brewers, having established themselves in the market for years, can have excess capacity or at least equipment that is idle to some degree. The solution? Contract brewing.

The concept of contract brewing—literally, brewing under contract—is similar to outsourcing any other skill or trade. An outside client pays to have their products brewed by a traditional brewery that has the free capacity for hire, or at least is looking for another stream of revenue. Sometimes these may be special projects with single batches, and other times this is de rigueur for a virtual brewery.

As a practice, contract brewing spans the spectrum of both operations and opinions. Some companies called beer marketing companies are not breweries at all but contract out all their brewing operations. They have no formal corporate facilities beyond an office, if that, but present themselves as a traditional brewery like any other. Examples of these marketing companies are Pete’s Wicked and Pabst Brewing; there are no longer any physical breweries for these companies.

For many brewers, contract brewing is a means to establish a brand and actually generate revenue before embarking on a fundraising and building program for a new brewery. With a larger brewery handling the brewing labor as a fee service, the brewery-to-be can better test the market and attract investors before committing hundreds of thousands of dollars to a new building or renovation program.

For some brewers, it is simply a logistical necessity. Hawaii’s Kona Brewing finds it more cost-effective to contract their U.S. beers on the West Coast rather than ship everything produced from the islands. For others, it is a legal requirement: Due to a hindrance of Texas state law, Houston’s Saint Arnold Brewing brews all the beers for the Texas locations of California’s brewpub chain BJ’s Restaurant & Brewhouse.

However, contract brewing has caught somewhat of a negative connotation with craft beer consumers. For many, it is seen as cheating because there is no physical brewery behind the name, or that the beers may as well be considered products of the contracted brewer. This negative aspect may be a result of the practice being abused by the national corporate breweries, who often create virtual companies as a means of marketing while actively hiding a connection to their own house brands. For example, Blue Moon Brewing is a Coors company, the same way Green Valley Brewing (makers of a line of certified organic beers) is an Anheuser-Busch company.

Contract brewing arrangements should be judged by the consumer on a case by case basis. Some brewers (Stampede Brewing) have little to no brewing expertise, and even less interest in ever establishing an independent facility. Others (BJ’s Restaurant & Brewhouse) have professional brewers at the national level who actually office at the contracted brewery, and are as hands-on with their products as any other employee. It may be a shortcut, but contract brewing is not always a lesser status for a brewer.

Guess Who's Coming to (Beer) Dinner

One very welcome trend on the rise recently in urban culture is the event known as the beer dinner, often also called the beer-pairing dinner. Print, broadcast and online media love the idea, as it provides a simple and cheap human-interest piece, all the time showcasing such image-friendly items as fine dining and craft beer.

Many restaurants and pubs are just now becoming aware of both the appeal of and business opportunity for pairing craft beer with food. The concept is terribly simple, yet subtle: a multi-course meal is prepared, and each course is paired with a specific beer or beer style. Sometimes it is in conjunction with a local or regional brewer or central theme, and sometimes it is simply composed of a thoughtful mix of commercially available craft beers.

It may be easier to simply list what a beer dinner entails than attempt to expand the concept or rules any further. A recent local beer dinner included the following menu (the beers are usually served in smaller 4- or 6-ounce samples instead of full pint servings):

• First course: Lamb medallion with a kriek glaze and white asparagus puree, paired with a schwarzbier.
• Second course: Chilled cucumber soup with fried lotus root, paired with a light helles lager.
• Third course: Blackened salmon with citrus coulis and arugula, paired with an English-style pale ale.
• Fourth course: Slow-roasted beef with spring vegetables and garlic cous cous, paired with an American amber ale.
• Fifth course: Berry cheesecake with chocolate crust, paired with a maibock.

The intent of the beer dinner is to show how the flavors of each dish can be matched, complimented or fortified by selected beer styles, often in much better ways than wine is able. After all, craft beer derives from the same ingredients as bread and herbs, not fruit. It is only natural for a malt-based beverage to accompany dishes made up of grains, spices and meats.

The subtlety comes in finding craft beers to compliment the food, and sometimes cooking food that specifically compliments the beers. A properly designed beer dinner should not be a random match, feature only crowd favorites or be a showcase for rare beer styles. Strong flavors are acceptable only so much as they can be augmented by other strong flavors, either from the beers or the food.

The greatest benefit from events such as this is to re-introduce the idea that beer is food. For too long, beer has been relegated merely as a beverage of cheap convenience and refreshment by large corporate breweries, something only the working class swilled to quench their thirst during sporting events. Modern craft beer is as complex and sophisticated as any wine or spirit, and presenting it to the consuming public in this manner elevates it to a more suitable level.

Most beer dinners are well within the affordable range for most diners, and it is a great method of presenting craft beer to an underinformed public while also educating those already fans about some flavors and styles with which they may not be familiar. And as it seems to be quite profitable for many merchants and provides promotion for smaller, local brewers, these dinners will hopefully only develop and grow in popularity.

Extreme Beers

Brewing lends itself to experimentation in the same way as cooking up a recipe in a kitchen. Ingredients can be used or featured based on their individual strengths and flavors, their seasonal availability or to the taste of the chef. And as always, limits and prescribed recipes exist only to be pushed, challenged and extended.

The American craft brewing scene has an element of rogue extreme beers galloping along its fringes. What is meant by “extreme beers” are certain craft beers that push the limits of style guidelines, palatability or alcoholic strength. These are almost by definition experimental products, some little more than commercial test batches that have been formally released.

The descriptor "extreme” is taken to mean beyond simply the stronger versions of more traditional styles. Strong IPAs and imperial stouts may creep into the 10% ABV range but extreme beers routinely double this. Yet it is not necessarily the gravity that defines an extreme beer but some attribute taken to excess beyond any contemporary product or stylistic guideline.

By their very nature, extreme beers can be expensive and calorie-laden. Anywhere from twice to ten times the ingredients of a normal batch of beer can be used to produce just a single batch of these beers. This makes their prices soar, and small batch runs yield limited availability that is only compounded by rabid fans and consumers.

Because extreme beers are such a financial commitment on the part of the brewer, only a few brewers have the means to even attempt these rarities. Likewise, only a subset of the craft beer consuming market is willing to invest in these beers, yet somehow demand remains very high nationwide. Some present commercial examples include:

Three Floyds Dark Lord Russian Imperial Stout. This is a dark imperial stout that pushes the limits of viscosity. At 13% ABV, this stout is as thick as sorghum and has elements of coffees, chocolates and ports. A special day is set aside each April for its annual release that draws pilgrims to the brewery in Indiana from across the United States.

Dogfish Head World Wide Stout. This is another Russian imperial stout that has traded places back and forth with the Utopia in years past for the world record of the highest gravity commercial beer. Generally around 18% ABV, this is another heavy stout with components of roasted coffee, merlot, dark fruits and licorice.

Samuel Adams Triple Bock. Batches of this extreme beer were brewed only in 1994, 1995 and 1997, yet bottles can still be found in retailers around the country. An experimental (and somewhat controversial) extension of the doppelbock style, the Triple Bock reached 17.5% ABV and has been described as everything from a heavily malted ale to an unpalatable blend of soy sauce and wine.

Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA. Supposedly a continuation of their sixty- and ninety-minute hopping process from the beers of the same names, this is less a strong IPA and more of a hoppy American barleywine. Recent batches have clocked in at 21% ABV, and this beer is designed to age in the cellar for decades or longer. Trust me when I say this beer greatly improves with even just a little age.

Samuel Adams Utopia. The most extreme of commercial beers, this beer requires several different yeast strains to reach its final gravity of 27% ABV. Sold in a very distinctive gold vessel modeled after a full-sized mash tun, a single bottle can retail for as much as $125. Remarkably, the beer remains smooth and drinkable without becoming whiskey-hot with the highest alcohol level ever recorded for a commercial beer.