Millennials. We know who they are. They're the generation of Americans that came of age after 2000. It's an expanding demographic at the moment because a generation is roughly 20 years. So we will not see the last of the Millennials for another five years.
There are a few things we know about this generation. We know, for example, that Millennials are likely to be saddled with significant debt...from education or consuming. We know they're less likely to own or drive a car than previous generations. Also less likely to own a home.
In food and beverage terms, we know Millennials have all but abandoned mainstream macro beer in favor of craft beer, wine and spirits. When you look at the industry data and you see the beating macro brands are taking and the growth craft brands are seeing, a lot of that is being driven by Millennial preferences.
Which conjures up this question: What happens when Millennials get fat? It has to happen and it is happening. Metabolisms can only keep you thin for so long, particularly when you're partial to high calorie food (this generation loves fat) and drinks. Please recall that your typical craft beer has significantly more calories than macro beer.
At some point in time, it's likely Millennials are going to start looking around for lighter options. Some, probably those on the high side of the demographic in age, are almost certainly looking around for those options already.
It won't be the first time this has happened. One of the reasons light beer and lo-cal foods first became popular back in the 1970s is that Americans became diet and weight conscious. The population wasn't nearly as fat as it is today, but a lot of people wanted healthier options. Light beer was one part of that and it dominated the industry well after craft beer arrived in the 1980s.
When I think about the beer industry, I can easily see Millennials eventually moving away from big beers. That's hard to imagine given the current popularity of double IPAs, barrel-aged beers, etc., but I suspect Millennials will someday accept the idea that lower ABV beers are or can be okay.
In fact, despite the effort that big beer has put into targeting the young crowd via craft brewery buyouts and shoddy, high alcohol products, the big guys are counting on Millennials getting fat and drifting back to macro beers. That may not happen quite the way they think, but it's possible that some part of the Millennial crowd will relent and start drinking light beer.
The more likely scenario is that lower ABV beers made by craft brewers will capture a larger share of the market than they hold today. There are some great lagers and light ales on the market and more are on the way. Brewers who manage to produce beers that are light in ABV, yet full in body and flavor, will probably have the greatest success in this area.
We'll have to wait and see how this plays out. The only thing we know for sure is that Millennials will get fat. Unless they decide that fat is okay, their consumption habits will change...and so will the beer industry.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
When Millennials Get Fat
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Revolution in Beer and Food Has Benefits
One of the most significant forces behind the ultimate success of the craft beer movement is the paradigm shift in tastes that began to occur in the early 1960s. The shift in tastes powered an interest in better food and better drink, thus leading in a roundabout way to what we have today.
In my book on Portland Beer, I suggest that Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, first published in 1961, is a significant indicator of emerging attitudes. Child's book was probably more a reflection of what was happening than an actual driver of change. But you get the idea.
The underlying reasons for the shift in tastes have been documented in a number of places over the years. A generation of Americans raised on the bland, processed cuisine of the post-WWII era began to search for better options. That quest eventually drove a revolution in food and beer.
The movement was not monolithic or instantaneous. Some parts of the country were slow to catch on or never quite did. Regardless, it took years to see where things were headed. Culinary values that embraced local ingredients and artisan preparation were the first to emerge.
Today's vibrant restaurant scene owes its existence to changes in tastes that were set in motion so long ago. The movement has produced collateral benefits, such as artisan farming and farmers markets. Small scale, community-oriented farmers have benefited in a big way. And they continue to do so.
The link between what happened in food and what would happen in brewing was imported beer. People like Fritz Magtag, Kurt Widmer and others (including the late Don Younger) noticed that folks enjoying a fine meal at home or in a restaurant didn't mind paying a premium price for a good imported beer. They saw opportunity.
As the craft beer revolution was getting underway 35 years ago, one of the problems early brewers faced was that the industry was built around gigantic factory breweries and industrial lagers. Hops and barley production was geared around the needs of large, not small breweries. Mass production was the bottom line. Quality ingredients were not the priority.
In much the same way that the culinary movement helped revive local farms and food production, craft brewing has transformed the hops and barley industry. The proliferation of craft breweries has opened up opportunities for growers who produce specialty hops and grains needed to brew the complex beers of today. This is happening in a lot of places, not just Oregon.
What's good about this? Similar to the culinary movement, craft beer has enabled smaller producers in small communities to shine. You don't have to be a mega grower to meet the needs of craft brewers. What you need to do is produce a high quality product. Even the large growers have had to take note and adjust their thinking and approaches.
Honestly, there are plenty of things about craft beer that aren't quite right. Pretentiousness, sexism and greed, for starters. But the industry has traversed a path that has helped revive small producers and, in turn, small communities. You can't argue with that.
In my book on Portland Beer, I suggest that Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, first published in 1961, is a significant indicator of emerging attitudes. Child's book was probably more a reflection of what was happening than an actual driver of change. But you get the idea.
The underlying reasons for the shift in tastes have been documented in a number of places over the years. A generation of Americans raised on the bland, processed cuisine of the post-WWII era began to search for better options. That quest eventually drove a revolution in food and beer.
The movement was not monolithic or instantaneous. Some parts of the country were slow to catch on or never quite did. Regardless, it took years to see where things were headed. Culinary values that embraced local ingredients and artisan preparation were the first to emerge.
Today's vibrant restaurant scene owes its existence to changes in tastes that were set in motion so long ago. The movement has produced collateral benefits, such as artisan farming and farmers markets. Small scale, community-oriented farmers have benefited in a big way. And they continue to do so.
The link between what happened in food and what would happen in brewing was imported beer. People like Fritz Magtag, Kurt Widmer and others (including the late Don Younger) noticed that folks enjoying a fine meal at home or in a restaurant didn't mind paying a premium price for a good imported beer. They saw opportunity.
As the craft beer revolution was getting underway 35 years ago, one of the problems early brewers faced was that the industry was built around gigantic factory breweries and industrial lagers. Hops and barley production was geared around the needs of large, not small breweries. Mass production was the bottom line. Quality ingredients were not the priority.
In much the same way that the culinary movement helped revive local farms and food production, craft brewing has transformed the hops and barley industry. The proliferation of craft breweries has opened up opportunities for growers who produce specialty hops and grains needed to brew the complex beers of today. This is happening in a lot of places, not just Oregon.
What's good about this? Similar to the culinary movement, craft beer has enabled smaller producers in small communities to shine. You don't have to be a mega grower to meet the needs of craft brewers. What you need to do is produce a high quality product. Even the large growers have had to take note and adjust their thinking and approaches.
Honestly, there are plenty of things about craft beer that aren't quite right. Pretentiousness, sexism and greed, for starters. But the industry has traversed a path that has helped revive small producers and, in turn, small communities. You can't argue with that.
Labels:
craft beer,
Julia Childs,
paradigm shift in tastes,
revival small farming,
small communities
Friday, May 22, 2015
David Letterman: The Un-Corona
David Letterman walked into the pages of history Wednesday night, ending a 33-year run. The final Late Show ran 20 minutes long and included a montage of historical images shown over the top of the Foo Fighters playing Everlong. It was nicely done.
Letterman, you may recall, was heir apparent to the Tonight Show when Johnny Carson retired on almost the same day in May 1992. But NBC somehow stumbled onto Jay Leno, instead. That snub pushed Letterman to CBS, where he spent the last 22 years doing the Late Show and becoming a cultural icon.
To me, Letterman is the last of the great late night hosts, in the mold as his idol, Carson, He didn't gush over celebrity guests and, instead, could make them fairly uncomfortable. In fact, he's the last late night host who guests respected. That's not the case with any of the current late night hacks, who fawn over guests in between mindless skits. Perhaps Colbert will be different.
Letterman's show wasn't a talk show, exactly, He mixed talk with quirky forays into comedy that tickled the funny bones of viewers. This was particularly true during his time on NBC and in the early days at CBS, when he had something to prove and worked hard to do so.
Despite the effort, Letterman only briefly gained the top spot on late night ratings and that was very early on in his CBS tenure. Why? Partly because the Tonight Show always enjoyed residual popularity from the Carson era and partly because, well, NBC is a better network with better local affiliates than CBS.
Of course, the Late Show had been in decline in recent years. Letterman seemed to lose interest. Still, I couldn't help thinking, as he closed up shop, that he was under-appreciated and that we will not see the likes of him again. Late night TV isn't what it once was, for sure. Viewers are more apt to watch late night highlights on their DVR or computer than they are to watch live. The landscape has morphed. It's hard to see anyone sticking around for 33 years and 6,000+ shows. Like Dave.
If there's a beer equivalent to Letterman, I don't know what it is. One beer it definitely isn't is Corona, Where Letterman failed to win the ratings war despite usually producing a superior product, Corona has become a popular, fast-growing brand despite being not very good.
Corona's parent, Constellation, reported that sales were up 16 percent in early 2015. And growing. This comes at a time when consumers are turning away from premium lagers in favor of more hearty craft beers. There's also the fact that Corona gets very low marks on sites like RateBeer and Beer Advocate. Descriptions of the beer's flavor profile are not flattering.
How has Corona managed to be a prolific brand at a time when it makes so little sense? Simple. They've used sun, sand, babes and lime wedges to build a brand image that positions Corona as a high end product and status symbol. Some consumers drink it because it makes them feel like they're on vacation. Sales are through the roof.
This has to one of the greatest cons of all time. You have to appreciate the irony, if nothing else.
Letterman, you may recall, was heir apparent to the Tonight Show when Johnny Carson retired on almost the same day in May 1992. But NBC somehow stumbled onto Jay Leno, instead. That snub pushed Letterman to CBS, where he spent the last 22 years doing the Late Show and becoming a cultural icon.
To me, Letterman is the last of the great late night hosts, in the mold as his idol, Carson, He didn't gush over celebrity guests and, instead, could make them fairly uncomfortable. In fact, he's the last late night host who guests respected. That's not the case with any of the current late night hacks, who fawn over guests in between mindless skits. Perhaps Colbert will be different.
Letterman's show wasn't a talk show, exactly, He mixed talk with quirky forays into comedy that tickled the funny bones of viewers. This was particularly true during his time on NBC and in the early days at CBS, when he had something to prove and worked hard to do so.
Despite the effort, Letterman only briefly gained the top spot on late night ratings and that was very early on in his CBS tenure. Why? Partly because the Tonight Show always enjoyed residual popularity from the Carson era and partly because, well, NBC is a better network with better local affiliates than CBS.
Of course, the Late Show had been in decline in recent years. Letterman seemed to lose interest. Still, I couldn't help thinking, as he closed up shop, that he was under-appreciated and that we will not see the likes of him again. Late night TV isn't what it once was, for sure. Viewers are more apt to watch late night highlights on their DVR or computer than they are to watch live. The landscape has morphed. It's hard to see anyone sticking around for 33 years and 6,000+ shows. Like Dave.
If there's a beer equivalent to Letterman, I don't know what it is. One beer it definitely isn't is Corona, Where Letterman failed to win the ratings war despite usually producing a superior product, Corona has become a popular, fast-growing brand despite being not very good.
Corona's parent, Constellation, reported that sales were up 16 percent in early 2015. And growing. This comes at a time when consumers are turning away from premium lagers in favor of more hearty craft beers. There's also the fact that Corona gets very low marks on sites like RateBeer and Beer Advocate. Descriptions of the beer's flavor profile are not flattering.
How has Corona managed to be a prolific brand at a time when it makes so little sense? Simple. They've used sun, sand, babes and lime wedges to build a brand image that positions Corona as a high end product and status symbol. Some consumers drink it because it makes them feel like they're on vacation. Sales are through the roof.
This has to one of the greatest cons of all time. You have to appreciate the irony, if nothing else.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
McNally's Taproom Talk Tonight
I'll be giving a short presentation and selling copies of my book on Portland's beer history tonight at McNally's Taproom in Hillsboro. It's probably a little late in the game to do this, given the book was published 18 or so months ago. But what the hell.
The program begins at 7 p.m. and I plan to speak for 30-40 minutes, backed by a slide show with photos and talking points. The theme? How Portland became the leading craft beer city in the world. After that, I'll open it up to questions and, finally, anyone who wants to purchase a signed copy of my book can do so.
Honestly, this is much more of an educational opportunity than a sales event. The book has done reasonably well through online booksellers and traditional bookstores. My own sales efforts at various pubs and events have been less successful, for sure. Such is the nature of books on history.
Jim McNally is the owner out there. I first met Jim at a beer collectors event where I was selling my book in late 2013. At the time, he was in the process of opening a taproom in Southeast Portland. That plan changed after several growler fill stations opened in the area. He decided underserved Hillsboro was a better bet. Good thinking.
I haven't been out to McNally's, but I understand the place is doing well. They've got 20 or so taps and a pretty solid list. I'm not naive enough to think people from the downtown core will venture out to Hillsboro, but I hope locals will stop by.
Looking forward to an evening of great beer talk.
The program begins at 7 p.m. and I plan to speak for 30-40 minutes, backed by a slide show with photos and talking points. The theme? How Portland became the leading craft beer city in the world. After that, I'll open it up to questions and, finally, anyone who wants to purchase a signed copy of my book can do so.
Honestly, this is much more of an educational opportunity than a sales event. The book has done reasonably well through online booksellers and traditional bookstores. My own sales efforts at various pubs and events have been less successful, for sure. Such is the nature of books on history.
Jim McNally is the owner out there. I first met Jim at a beer collectors event where I was selling my book in late 2013. At the time, he was in the process of opening a taproom in Southeast Portland. That plan changed after several growler fill stations opened in the area. He decided underserved Hillsboro was a better bet. Good thinking.
I haven't been out to McNally's, but I understand the place is doing well. They've got 20 or so taps and a pretty solid list. I'm not naive enough to think people from the downtown core will venture out to Hillsboro, but I hope locals will stop by.
Looking forward to an evening of great beer talk.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Ethereal Meads Leans on the Work of Bees
Sometimes it appears to me that the rising tide of craft beer has helped float an increasing variety of boats. By that, I mean we continue to see a proliferation of new and creative styles, to go with the reappearance of long-forgotten ones. Mead might well be part of that.
On my Thursday evening beer tasting stop I ran into the folks from Ethereal Meads at Belmont Station. They were doing a tasting of their two current meads, Autumn Mist and Ruby Sunset. It was great spending a few minutes talking to Meadmaster, Gary Gross, and his wife, Shirley.
Ethereal is located in rural Battle Ground, where Gary has been tinkering with and refining his mead making processes for a number of years. Friends and acquaintances who sampled his creations eventually suggested he sell the stuff. Then he won a gold medal for one of his meads in an international competition. He took the plunge.
Autumn Mist and Ruby Sunset are available by the 500 ml bottle and also on tap here and there around the area. You can buy it here and drink it here, according to the Ethereal website. Container fills are available by appointment...contact info is on the website.
In the tasting, I preferred Autumn Mist, which is a brilliant golden color. It contains apple juice and some subtle spices and is nicely balanced. The award-winning Ruby Sunset is darker in color and utilizes cranberries to balance the sweetness provided by the honey and strawberries. Ruby Sunset is good, but a little sweet for my taste.
Mead is something of an enigma, I think. It's one of the oldest alcoholic drinks, yet has a small following. A former work colleague of mine made a pretty good mead...I have no idea how. Too many commercial meads are cloyingly sweet and not what I'm looking for. Autumn Mist is decidedly different. It's reminiscent of a dry cider or a drier white wine. Opinions will obviously differ.
There are probably a lot of ways Gross can go with his meads. He talked about experimenting with dry-hopping, barrel-aging and other approaches that might produce interesting results. He doesn't seem to be in a big hurry to rock the boat because what he has is pretty good. His main focus for now is increasing production and building a larger following.
Expanding will be done carefully while staying committed to quality and local ingredients. Fresh fruit is easy to come by and the honey is sourced in the Willamette Valley. Sustainable farming and beekeeping are important concepts, and Ethereal supports organizations that work to protect the environment.
Of course, most of the real work involved in making mead is done by bees. Gross buys honey in 50 gallon drums and says it takes the life's work of 86 bees to produce a 6 ounce glass of mead. Each of those bees evidently flies 100 miles or more in search of nectar during its life.
And some people say you can't learn anything on beer tasting junkets.
On my Thursday evening beer tasting stop I ran into the folks from Ethereal Meads at Belmont Station. They were doing a tasting of their two current meads, Autumn Mist and Ruby Sunset. It was great spending a few minutes talking to Meadmaster, Gary Gross, and his wife, Shirley.
Ethereal is located in rural Battle Ground, where Gary has been tinkering with and refining his mead making processes for a number of years. Friends and acquaintances who sampled his creations eventually suggested he sell the stuff. Then he won a gold medal for one of his meads in an international competition. He took the plunge.
Autumn Mist and Ruby Sunset are available by the 500 ml bottle and also on tap here and there around the area. You can buy it here and drink it here, according to the Ethereal website. Container fills are available by appointment...contact info is on the website.
In the tasting, I preferred Autumn Mist, which is a brilliant golden color. It contains apple juice and some subtle spices and is nicely balanced. The award-winning Ruby Sunset is darker in color and utilizes cranberries to balance the sweetness provided by the honey and strawberries. Ruby Sunset is good, but a little sweet for my taste.
Mead is something of an enigma, I think. It's one of the oldest alcoholic drinks, yet has a small following. A former work colleague of mine made a pretty good mead...I have no idea how. Too many commercial meads are cloyingly sweet and not what I'm looking for. Autumn Mist is decidedly different. It's reminiscent of a dry cider or a drier white wine. Opinions will obviously differ.
There are probably a lot of ways Gross can go with his meads. He talked about experimenting with dry-hopping, barrel-aging and other approaches that might produce interesting results. He doesn't seem to be in a big hurry to rock the boat because what he has is pretty good. His main focus for now is increasing production and building a larger following.
Expanding will be done carefully while staying committed to quality and local ingredients. Fresh fruit is easy to come by and the honey is sourced in the Willamette Valley. Sustainable farming and beekeeping are important concepts, and Ethereal supports organizations that work to protect the environment.
Of course, most of the real work involved in making mead is done by bees. Gross buys honey in 50 gallon drums and says it takes the life's work of 86 bees to produce a 6 ounce glass of mead. Each of those bees evidently flies 100 miles or more in search of nectar during its life.
And some people say you can't learn anything on beer tasting junkets.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Adventures in Computing and the Blue Moon Mess
Returning from a week in Hawaii can be disorienting. It was a bit worse for me this time due to technical issues. The old Windows desktop that houses virtually all of my work documents crashed permanently when I started it after arriving home last Tuesday night.
No need to dwell on the details, but there is an ironic backstory. Prior to leaving for Hawaii, I backed up everything on the Macbook Pro that travels with me. Computers can be temperamental travelers and I didn't want to lose anything. Good thinking, huh?
The Windows box wasn't going anywhere and didn't get the same treatment. I suppose that's why it promptly took a dump on my return. I'll recover what's currently lost because it was a system failure, not a hard drive crash. Still, it made for a less than productive week. Stupidity can lead to that.
There were some interesting items in the news during my time in Hawaii and last week. The world of craft beer is forever spinning like a top and increasingly in the news, it seems.
One of the week's big stories was that MillerCoors is being sued in California for using "deceptive and misleading advertising and unfair business practices." It's a class action lawsuit based around the experiences of some dude who bought Blue Moon for years, assuming it was a craft beer. No joke.
The dude, Evan Parent, thought Blue Moon was a craft beer based on language on the packaging and ads he had seen. There's also the fact that he was finding Blue Moon on store shelves in the craft beer section and assumed that's what it was. Sounds like a solid case, huh?
As most who stop by here know, Blue Moon isn't craft beer. The "artfully crafted" words on the packaging and the ads that position Blue Moon as a super premium beer are just a rouse. Blue Moon is better than your average "Brewed the Hard Way" macro, but it doesn't measure up as a craft beer. Same goes for Shock Top and other pretend craft brands.
This lawsuit may well be settled out of court, with the class (folks who bought Blue Moon during some specified period of time) getting a piddly reimbursement and the lawyers collecting a bundle. But there's also a good chance the case will simply go up in flames. Because it has problems.
For starters, truth in advertising. By design, advertising uses words and images to create impressions that may not be true. "Ford Has a Better Idea." Remember that one? There are zillions of others. If the lawyers manage to pry open this pandora's box, better get ready for a lawsuit binge that extends far beyond the beer industry.
Of course, it may be fairly argued that retailers and distributors conspired to trick Parent and other consumers by placing Blue Moon among craft brands on store shelves. That would tend to give unknowing beer shoppers the impression that Blue Moon belongs in that category.
That argument runs into trouble when you realize there is no viable definition of craft beer. Oh sure, there's the Brewers Association definition...less than 6 million barrels brewed per year, not substantially owned by an alcohol beverage company, uses traditional brewing practices. But that definition is really more about marketing and spin than reality.
If this case goes to trial, it will be interesting to hear the Brewers Association explain why the definition of craft brewer is a moving target that continues to change. Do they keep increasing the production number to keep Sam Adams in the club? Did they add "innovative methods" to the brewing requirements so they could include breweries that otherwise wouldn't have been considered craft, thereby expanding craft's market share? Inquiring legal minds will want answers.
This case is going to open up cans of worms all over the place, and a lot of industry folks would rather those cans stay sealed. But only if it makes it to trial...and there's just about zero chance of that happening.
No need to dwell on the details, but there is an ironic backstory. Prior to leaving for Hawaii, I backed up everything on the Macbook Pro that travels with me. Computers can be temperamental travelers and I didn't want to lose anything. Good thinking, huh?
The Windows box wasn't going anywhere and didn't get the same treatment. I suppose that's why it promptly took a dump on my return. I'll recover what's currently lost because it was a system failure, not a hard drive crash. Still, it made for a less than productive week. Stupidity can lead to that.
There were some interesting items in the news during my time in Hawaii and last week. The world of craft beer is forever spinning like a top and increasingly in the news, it seems.
One of the week's big stories was that MillerCoors is being sued in California for using "deceptive and misleading advertising and unfair business practices." It's a class action lawsuit based around the experiences of some dude who bought Blue Moon for years, assuming it was a craft beer. No joke.
The dude, Evan Parent, thought Blue Moon was a craft beer based on language on the packaging and ads he had seen. There's also the fact that he was finding Blue Moon on store shelves in the craft beer section and assumed that's what it was. Sounds like a solid case, huh?
As most who stop by here know, Blue Moon isn't craft beer. The "artfully crafted" words on the packaging and the ads that position Blue Moon as a super premium beer are just a rouse. Blue Moon is better than your average "Brewed the Hard Way" macro, but it doesn't measure up as a craft beer. Same goes for Shock Top and other pretend craft brands.
This lawsuit may well be settled out of court, with the class (folks who bought Blue Moon during some specified period of time) getting a piddly reimbursement and the lawyers collecting a bundle. But there's also a good chance the case will simply go up in flames. Because it has problems.
For starters, truth in advertising. By design, advertising uses words and images to create impressions that may not be true. "Ford Has a Better Idea." Remember that one? There are zillions of others. If the lawyers manage to pry open this pandora's box, better get ready for a lawsuit binge that extends far beyond the beer industry.
Of course, it may be fairly argued that retailers and distributors conspired to trick Parent and other consumers by placing Blue Moon among craft brands on store shelves. That would tend to give unknowing beer shoppers the impression that Blue Moon belongs in that category.
That argument runs into trouble when you realize there is no viable definition of craft beer. Oh sure, there's the Brewers Association definition...less than 6 million barrels brewed per year, not substantially owned by an alcohol beverage company, uses traditional brewing practices. But that definition is really more about marketing and spin than reality.
If this case goes to trial, it will be interesting to hear the Brewers Association explain why the definition of craft brewer is a moving target that continues to change. Do they keep increasing the production number to keep Sam Adams in the club? Did they add "innovative methods" to the brewing requirements so they could include breweries that otherwise wouldn't have been considered craft, thereby expanding craft's market share? Inquiring legal minds will want answers.
This case is going to open up cans of worms all over the place, and a lot of industry folks would rather those cans stay sealed. But only if it makes it to trial...and there's just about zero chance of that happening.
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