Loyalty to beer brands was a labor of love
In many ways I credit the refined taste buds of a new generation of picky consumers for the craft beer boom in the United States.
Today’s young elites have pleased their palates most of their lives with far more choices on store shelves than there were in my youth in the 1960s when, for example, potato chip varieties were pretty much limited to plain or barbecue.
The 20-somethings in the bar crowds these days witnessed an explosion of new and exciting potato chip flavors in myriad choices ranging from ketchup, dill, sweet onion, cracked sea salt and ground pepper and, now, Lay’s has introduced a new “Chicken & Waffles” chip. The revolution in new flavors can be found in products ranging from soda pop to candy to breakfast cereal.
I, however, entered adulthood at the tail-end of America’s Industrial Age in the Mon Valley, where steelworkers patronized the products of Pittsburgh-area breweries for no other reason than their beer bore a union label. The union-made Iron City beer was the choice of many working men in the bars outside the mill gates even though it didn’t taste all that great.
Maybe I’m wrong, but young adults these days don’t seem to understand this fierce loyalty to labor. They prefer beer with exotic flavors, whether it’s infused with pumpkin spice, chocolate, beets, cucumber, raspberry or coffee, over purchasing something that would keep a local person in a job at the brewery down the street.
They’re shoving to the side beer brewed by major corporations and especially anything bearing the name “light,” as the craft beer market continues to grow at a time when overall beer sales have stagnated.
While overall beer sales increased by just 1 percent in 2012, the craft beer market experienced a 17 percent increase in retail sales. Craft beer sales made up 6.5 percent of the market, up from about 5 percent in 2011, according to the Brewers Association.
The association defines craft beer brewers as small, independent and traditional business owners who produce fewer than 6 million barrels a year and are not afraid to experiment.
As for myself, I decided about three years ago to become a beer snob after witnessing some of my younger friends reaching for a restaurant’s beer list and choosing something other than a familiar corporate brand.
It didn’t take long for me to take a strong liking to hoppy India Pale Ales, the chewier the better.
No, I don’t want one of those “girly beers” flavored with apples, oranges, lemons or limes. The worst, in my opinion, have been brewed with cloves, the spice better suited for an Easter ham.
Maybe this craft beer switch is fueled by the “buy local” movement amid consumer concerns about where food is produced, and how big corporations might be hurting small companies while draining the energy supply to get product to market.
Or maybe it’s because the youngsters today are on to something good.