The Austin Brewing Phenomenon

Amid a tee-shirt emblazoned mantra of “Keep Austin Weird,” the Texas state capitol has worked to maintain its local flavor and attitude. For decades, I have watched the town grow from a barely-city positioned as a quaint, convenient college-and-government town into an almost-metropolis struggling to keep its liberal, indie identity within the corporate influx and urban sprawl.

Likewise, I have seen Austin beer ebb and flow yet always lead the state in craft brewing. With a natural water composition that chemically favors brewing, the area has attracted national and international attention from brewers, with no less than the legendary Pierre Celis once brewing here. And the local population has eagerly and thirstily embraced them all.

But something new is in the wind these days in Austin, the likes of which have not been seen since the dot-com bubble of the late 1990s. This summer saw the opening of two new microbreweries in addition to the existing three (four if you count nearby Real Ale Brewing in Blanco) that have been operating for years now. And as of the time of this writing, at least that many more are under development for 2011.

With well-established breweries Live Oak Brewing and Independence, along with sophomore effort (512) Brewing, this summer saw Thirsty Planet Brewing and Jester King Craft Brewery open, with Kreuz Creek Brewing and Hops & Grain still pending. Next year should see Circle Brewing and South Austin Brewing open, and at least a half dozen more ventures are still toying with the concept. These places are popping up like weeds; if you hear of still more new brewers, please let me know.

So what has spurred this stampede of new brewers, and why now? And why Austin? Is there something unique to the area that is missing from the rest of the state? Of course, the larger unstated question that looms on the horizon is can a city of only three-quarters of a million people support six, eight, or ten microbreweries when much larger markets like Dallas/Fort Worth or Houston struggle to keep even one open?

A healthy Texas economy has been a factor for many years now, with Austin providing a high-tech boomtown and major university that attracts residents (i.e., thirsty consumers) from around the United States, especially the beer-thirsty West Coast. Golden State residents find the Hill Country’s liberal nature and lush outdoorsmanship in the middle of conservative Texas a natural environment, and the relative living expenses are equally attractive.

However, the underlying factor to the demand and ultimate success of Austin beer lies in the nature of Austinites themselves. Residents of our capitol tend to be fiercely loyal to local brands and wary of corporate products, as well as being heavily vested in the Slow Food movement—of which, as I have always maintained, craft beer is a healthy segment.

Along with brewers also come the writers and bloggers these days, with several Austin locals establishing themselves as the witnesses to the movement. Chris Troutman of Beertown Austin (who produces some great vblogs with craft brewers) says this:

People in Austin love to latch on to local products and producers. Like Portland and Boulder, Austin is a granola town, and something about the ‘rawness’ and ‘earthiness’ of beer really appeals to the market here. Of the new brewers coming on the scene we have guys brewing with rain water, reclaiming spent grains for dog biscuits, attempting to go 100% organic, and you can’t talk to any new brewer without the subject of the environmental friendliness of cans coming up.

Can a town like Austin support a dozen independent brewers? Remarkably, unlike almost any other locale in the Lone Star State, I believe they can. This is not a group of overnight millionaires from the Internet playing with beer, and the craft beer movement is no longer merely a novelty waiting to pass. Austin is uniquely a beer city, and they are about to enter another Golden Age.

Rahr & Sons and the Road Back

On February 12th, 2010, Fort Worth’s Rahr & Sons Brewery became the stuff of Texas legend by being the sole brewery in the history of the Lone Star State ever to be destroyed by a blizzard. Such events may be commonplace in northern climes but a record-setting 12.5-inch snowfall in just 24 hours is unheard of in North Texas, and unlikely to be repeated in our lifetimes.

The weight of the precipitation collapsed the roof of the brewery from stem to stern, busting a water main and plumbing and filling the warehouse operation just south of downtown with water a foot deep. Brewing and bottling equipment was ruined or partially crushed, and in some places the fermentors were the only structures holding up what remained of the snow-capped roof.

From an operational standpoint, the brewery was an almost total loss: Some equipment could be salvaged but it would be months before anything could be brewed again. Fortunately, insurance covered large portions of the damages, which meant that Rahr & Sons would definitely be brewing again at some future date. The only obstacle at this point was time.

But it was time put to surprisingly good and productive use. Coors Distributing arrived immediately and took what bottled product was left on-site for immediate sale. A few batches of beer remained in the unpowered conditioning tanks for weeks before they could be accessed and kegged, with the good fortune of mild weather keeping them fresh (and the unintended extra lagering time produced what was probably their best batch ever).

Fritz Rahr may have been a man without a brewery but he and his bunch were far from idle. Without the very popular Saturday tours and tastings every week, the Rahr brewing team moved out into the city of Fort Worth and the greater Metroplex, holding special events and tastings almost weekly as they kept the company name alive despite having no new beer. Even as bottles became more difficult to find on retail shelves, a series of sly viral videos featuring indolent brewers trying to amuse themselves attracted some minor national attention for this non-brewing brewery.

But as of this past June, Rahr & Sons became an actual working brewery once again. A new roof was installed and the entire facility replumbed, taking advantage of this reboot to reorganize some lines and equipment that were otherwise placed for expansion’s convenience. A new brew kettle and subsequent arrangement now cuts a 12- or 18-hour brewing cycle down to about six hours. A new bottling line will allow both 12-ounce and 22-ounce bottles, and the annoying and unreliable screw-caps are now history.

A new cold room has been added, including a temperature-controlled area specifically for barrel-aging beers. A new bar has been installed, making more space available for the inevitable crowds of fans who will soon fill this brewery on weekends. Even the bottle labels have been updated and standardized, with a modern and uniform style for all the beers produced.

Having his brewery destroyed may yet be the best thing to ever happen for Rahr & Sons, as it allowed them to tweak, subtly improve and redesign what had previously grown organically and haphazardly. With added capacity and more control over the brewing process, look for Rahr beers to significantly improve in quality. An entire barrel-aging program of beers is planned, some to be bottled and others exclusively local.

Rahr & Sons has finally turned the big corner, and anxiously awaits the city-issued certificate of occupancy before resuming their ever-popular Saturday tours. A business pairing with a contract brewing opportunity out-of-state will see the production of an entire line of sub-products under the Ass Kisser Ales label. And with their current setup and operations, they are poised to be a close contender for the second-largest craft brewery in the state behind Saint Arnold.

Beers Texas Needs

In case you had not noticed, the young Texas craft beer market is currently flourishing. We are seeing an unprecedented number of national brands and imports arriving almost weekly, and our in-state commercial brewers are the strongest they have been since the reckless microbrew expansion of the dot-com era.

Naturally, all the stylistic basics seem to be covered. Amber ales and Vienna-style lagers are quite popular and widespread, as are many variations of the well-liked wheat or weizen styles. We have plenty of quality helles lagers, and fall brings an abundance of new Oktoberfest beers each year. We have a couple of decent IPAs (although we could always use more) and a few great stouts, albeit with the latter not truly in high demand with our grueling Texas summers.

So where do we go from here? What direction should Texas brewers take with their products, and which will prove the most successful? What gaps remain to be filled? The good news is that many market niches have already been identified and satisfied most profitably. We have schwarzbiers and Dortmunders and variations on the kölsch, all of which are great additions to our landscape. But we have still missed a few of the obvious.

Bock. The historical settlement of Central Texas is one of German and Czech immigrants, imparting a long and noble history of Germanic brewing to the Lone Star State. Yet too few breweries today embrace this heritage, particularly with respect to bocks and their subcategories. We do have maibocks and limited spring seasonals, but it seems craft brewers are content to relinquish the bock style to Spoetzl (even though Shiner is no longer categorized as a bock) when instead this state should have a market flooded with bocks from every brewhaus. And a popular state-brewed doppelbock is long overdue.

Münich dunkel. The dunkel, a slightly darker, roastier cousin of the Vienna lager, would make a fine competitor for either the dark, sweet lager that is now Shiner or as an alternative to brewing a true bock-style beer. Unfortunately, the only dunkels to be found in Texas are either imported from Germany or from Mexico, which has embraced its German and Austrian brewing heritage better than Texas has.

Berliner weisse. To brew a Berliner weisse for the scorching Texas heat should not even be debated. This low-alcohol wheat beer brings a refreshing lemon and citrus lactic tang to the traditional weizen already popular in hot weather. The proven success of hefeweizen and witbier in our state should prompt local craft brewers to explore all the variations of the weizen styles.

Rauchbier. Another seemingly obvious choice is the rauchbier, a German lager similar to a bock that is brewed with smoked malt and often with an addition of rye. The smoky flavor can be anywhere from subtle campfire to full bacon-flavored beverage, and its obvious pairing with native Texas barbecue should make it a commercial success if only for cooks building their marinades.

Czech pilsner. Despite being the most numerous commercial beer style on the market today, pilsners have drifted too far away from their authentic Bohemian origins. Instead of being smooth, sweet and forgettable, true Czech pilsners can be hopped as strongly as American IPAs using Saaz and other noble hops yet can remain equally as refreshing as a tame marketable lager.

Eisbock. Including an eisbock on this list is a guilty indulgence on my part but still one that may be economically competitive. A traditional strong bock is brewed and then held below freezing for a duration, after which the frozen water content is physically removed as ice (ethanol has a much lower freezing point than water). What remains is a high-gravity commercial competitor to barleywines and imperial stouts that is as smooth as schnapps and relatively unique to the marketplace.

Granted, a few of these styles have already been attempted by in-state brewers—even with ongoing success—but few remain as permanent products on the state’s large landscape. If existing and future brewers adopted German styles more, perhaps a unique national identity could successfully arise for Texas craft brewing.

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.

Texas Brewers Parity Amendment

It is illegal for breweries in Texas to sell you beer.

Let me state that once again: It is prohibited by current Texas law for a brewer (large or small) to sell beer directly to the public. If you take a tour of one of our state’s microbreweries, you can sample their beers for free and buy as many branded tee-shirts or pint glasses as you like, but you cannot purchase a single bottle. The one product they make, they are not allowed to sell.

In a relic left over from Prohibition known as the three-tier model, breweries are only allowed to sell to distributors, and distributors are only allowed to sell to retailers (bars, stores, restaurants, clubs). The original purpose of the three-tier system was a sort of monopoly-buster, a system of checks and balances to keep any portion of the brewing industry from having too much power.

Unfortunately, the three-tier model does not work. Over time, the parties involved have shifted, with major commercial brewers spawning their own distribution networks (legally separate on paper) that today hold almost total sway over the retail market. Large breweries have constructed the distributors to be largely dependent upon them and them alone, radically skewing the balance originally intended.

Some U.S. states have subsequently modified or eliminated laws surrounding this post-Prohibition thinking. But unlike many other states with blooming brewing industries, the brewer in Texas is still restricted from selling directly to the consuming public. The only legal means of selling beer in Texas is at the mercy of a distributor, but a bill currently before the State House wants to change that.

The Texas Brewers Parity Amendment, or formally HB 1062, was introduced in February by Tarrant County Representative Lon Burnam. (A similar version was also introduced into the State Senate, SB 754, and another compromise bill, HB 2094, followed that one.) What it asks for is rather modest: Brewers “may sell ale… manufactured or bottled on the permitted premises to ultimate consumers… in unbroken packages for off-premises consumption in an amount that does not exceed 35,000 gallons annually.”

Similar legislation has been attempted in the past but has always been defeated. Two years ago, Saint Arnold’s Brock Wagner spearheaded a comparable bill that never saw the House floor. Strong opposition is generally raised by distributors and retailers, who fear direct sales will only cut into their bottom line as people go straight to the source for the sale.

But these fears are unfounded and paranoid. Consumers are unlikely to forgo more convenient retail outlets to patronize a brewery only open a few hours each week. Our nine Texas microbreweries are located so far apart that business “stolen” from distributors will hardly be measurable. No one is driving from Dallas to Houston just to buy a beer they can get at the local supermarket.

And counter to any arguments against this compromise is the real-life example of wine. Winemakers won the same rights several years ago for wine sales on-site at vineyards (Texas alcohol laws are annoyingly specific to the type of alcohol they cover) with no impact on anyone’s sales. In fact, many winemakers claim an increase in sales because of the change.

Visitors on a brewery tour usually want something to take home with them. Being able to purchase a six pack will only generate more business for distributors and retailers, as the beer tourist is converted into a beer consumer. Customers will return to the nearest store for more beer instead of returning to the brewery each time.

What can we do? If you live in Texas, contact your state representative and your state senator and express your support for our local Texas microbrewers and for this legislation.

Consumer Trends, Brewing Trends

Merriam-Webster defines a trend as "a line or general direction of movement” or “a prevailing tendency or inclination." The most obvious trends are either in fashion or on Wall Street, where the skill of detecting and predicting trends is almost a science. Consumers trend constantly in their choices and purchases, from autos to household electronics, from movies to the food they eat.

Likewise, craft beer is not immune to trends. It is as much a consumer item as any DVD or child’s Christmas toy, and craft brewers are as attuned to the market as any retailer or manufacturer. Let us examine a few recent trends in the Texas craft beer market. Texas makes a good sample population because it has a large beer-consuming base and none of its small craft breweries distribute outside the state.

Case #1. In 2004, the Rahr & Sons Brewing Company began brewing operations in Fort Worth with three flagship beers: a Münich helles, a Vienna lager and a schwarzbier. The schwarzbier, named Ugly Pug Black Lager, was a tremendous local success and remains so today. Even in a state with a large historic German settlement and brewing tradition, this was the first U.S. commercial schwarzbier in the Texas market, a market that barely had any imported schwarzbiers at all.

To celebrate their upcoming centennial, a few years ago Spoetzl Brewing began a limited-run annual series of beers of various Bavarian styles. Released in 2006, their Shiner 97 edition was a “Bohemian Black Lager,” or a schwarzbier. This particular beer proved so commercially successful that it was resurrected a year later and added to their current product portfolio as the Shiner Bohemian Black Lager, the only one of the series so far to make this permanent jump.

Case #2. Each spring, the Houston area homebrewing clubs host the Big Batch Brew Bash, a statewide homebrew competition with a twist: it only has one style category. That style changes from year to year, and in 2008 the designated style was weizenbock, a dark German wheat beer full of yeasty banana and clove flavors.

In an agreement with the competition, the Saint Arnold Brewing Company of Houston purchases the top beer from the winning homebrewer each year and uses that recipe to develop the odd-numbered beers of their special Divine Reserve limited edition series. And in 2008, the Divine Reserve #7 was that championship weizenbock, which enjoyed an improved and wider distribution throughout the state than previous beers in this series.

Again as far as I am aware, this was the first U.S. commercial weizenbock available in the Texas market, aside from the rare European import. And what happened later that year? The Live Oak Brewing Company of Austin releases a new fall seasonal beer named Primus—a weizenbock. A few weizenbocks also start appearing among the Texas brewpubs, where they never had entertained that style previously.

Are these cases of petty copycat brewers or savvy businessmen identifying and pursuing profitable popular trends? Do Texas craft brewers large and small keep one eye on the competition and plan products competitively, or are style ideas and preferences planted in the population’s psyche that somehow spread virally and bubble just beneath the consciousness? Is this a case of convergent evolution or is the market larger than the sum of its parts?

No craft brewer wants to be labeled as a follower, and all claim to have developed similar beers only coincidentally. All in all, trends like these do turn out to be very good things, especially in a rather contained market like Texas. Multiple versions of similar beers foster competition and the craft beer consumers become a wonderful test bed for comparing and contrasting individual interpretations of the same styles.

Texas' Taste in Beer

More so than any other state in the Union, Texas constitutes a unique subculture above and beyond simple state borders. With a colorful history, a strong independent streak and even today isolated by long distances from our nearest neighbors, Texas culture has grown up with its own unique and regional tastes and preferences.

Until just a few years ago, Texas consumed more beer in total volume than any other state. (California now holds that distinction, with Texas a close second.) Of course, this is not a reflection of the craft beer market; the bulk of what is consumed are macro products, with their multitude of light lager styles and alcopops. But it does show that Texans have a particular taste for beer, and the local craft beer market also reflects that.

Basically, Texas is hot. Not the type of desert heat like Arizona, with temperatures of 120°F during the day and dropping into the cool 60s at night. Texas heat is a stagnant, humid heat that hangs in the upper 90s, usually crossing the triple-digit mark in summers, and that heat is retained with a perpetual +70% humidity so that overnight the mercury barely budges by ten degrees. Perspiration is an uncontrollable fact of life for everyone, and the humidity can sap your energy in mere minutes.

The heat alone tends to preclude certain cold-weather beer styles from gaining a foothold. With their heavy flavors, stouts of all varieties are rare; in fact, only one stout is commercially produced by any Texas craft brewer, and that one merely a seasonal, the Saint Arnold Winter Stout. Likewise, high-gravity beers like barleywines, wee heavies and old ales are rare, although a few are produced on a limited basis.

The German and Czech immigrants to Texas at its formation infused the state with a taste for their native beers, particularly the maltier bock and dunkel styles. Although no longer a “true bock” (it is now classified as an American dark lager), the hundred-year-old Spoetzl Brewery produces the ubiquitous Shiner Bock that is amazingly popular with native Texans from cowboys to Chicanos, and has grown to be distributed through about a third of the US. So popular is Shiner Bock that brewing giant Anheuser-Bush produces a similar beer named Ziegenbock specifically to compete in the Texas market.

But if there were a single style to declare as a “state beer,” nothing slakes the thirst of Texans like the wheat ales. Texans have embraced all manner of wheat styles, from Bavarian weizen to spicy Belgian witbier to the standard American wheat. So popular is this single family of beers that every craft brewer in Texas commercially produces some variety of wheat ale, and local brewpubs are foolish not to have one of their own on draught. Even clear, filtered varieties of wheat ales such as kristalweizen are developed ahead of the massively popular IPAs.

Standing out from this family of wheat ales is the German hefeweizen, or weizen mit hefe (“with yeast”). Texans adore their hefeweizen in all its creamy sweetness filled with estery traces of clove, vanilla and banana. The acknowledged leader in the state is the Live Oak Hefeweizen from the tiny brewery in Austin, one of the oldest craft brewers in Texas. Once only a spring offering, demand for this Live Oak beer was so great that the brewer now produces it year-round. So distinct is its quality that it continually appears on “best of” beer lists and websites, beating out other national craft beers and even native Bavarian products of the same style.

As the Civil War general Philip Sheridan said, “If I owned Hell and Texas, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell.” As long as we had our hefeweizen, I think we could get by.