A new, old wave in craft beer has arrived
Michael Oxton’s father-in-law usually drinks Miller High Life and does not care much for craft beer. For most families, this would be no big deal. Oxton, however, is a founder of Night Shift Brewing, a Boston-area company noted for its fragrant India pale ales and other big-flavored beers.
So last fall, when Oxton offered his father-in-law, Anthony DiPalma, a retired New York Police Department lieutenant, a taste of Night Shift’s newest product, Village Lager, expectations were scant.
But DiPalma loved it. “He was like, ‘I would drink that all day long,’” Oxton recalled.
He thinks that is because Village Lager tastes like a familiar mass-produced lager — only with more flavor. The beer is balanced and bready, with faint bitterness.
“Nothing stands out, but it’s an incredibly delicious, easy-drinking experience,” Oxton said. While craft beers can seem exclusive to some drinkers, “there’s something very un-snobby about it.”
Village Lager is inspired by zwickelbier, a centuries-old style of unfiltered German lager named after the spigot that brewers use to taste still-fermenting beer. In a business brimming with over-the-top IPAs and aggressive stouts, American brewers are embracing German tradition to create beers they believe can have broader appeal.
“It’s cool to take something that’s been done for hundreds of years and all of the sudden it’s fresh and cool,” said Ryan Crisp, head brewer at AleSmith Brewing in San Diego.
For centuries, German breweries have made unfiltered beers, from malt-rich lagers to wheat ales evocative of bananas and cloves. Though their alcohol levels are moderate, they have multifaceted flavor; the residual yeast and proteins supply a fuller body and a cloudy hue.
Recently, AleSmith has started making kellerbiers, a closely related type of unfiltered German ales and lagers. (They are named for the cool cellars where the beers were matured, and are often more assertive than zwickelbiers.)
Crisp’s keller-style pilsners and
Mexican lagers are fermented for shorter periods of time; yeast and proteins remain in the finished product, floating in suspension. The kellerbiers, served directly from the conditioning tanks at AleSmith’s taproom, have a youthful vibrancy. They are raw and lively without being rough-edged.
“There’s something about the creaminess and different flavors you get,” Crisp said.
Suarez Family Brewery’s taproom, about 12 miles south of Hudson, New York, has a tap list that tilts toward unfiltered lagers, like the darkly roasty Bone Shirt and the hop-forward Qualify Pils. “It’s giving a consumer a beer’s freshest expression,” said Dan Suarez, who founded the brewery in 2016 with his wife, Taylor Cocalis.
“Zwickel is just a fun word to say,” said Erik Jensen, the brewmaster at Green Flash, which specializes in flavorful IPAs. The low-alcohol lager filled a void in the brewery’s portfolio, as well as its brewers’ refrigerators.
For American brewers accustomed to lobbing grenades at orthodoxy, producing zwickel and keller beers is especially appealing. What these loosely affiliated beers share is a general approach rather than rigid stylistic guidelines.
“Zwickelbier is really open to interpretation,” said Nick Griffin, the head brewer at Five Boroughs Brewing Co. in Brooklyn, New York. Last year, he brewed a zwickelbier with New York state hops, then aged the lager in redwine barrels for several months, adding a tannic nuance. “There are not these strict rules that are pushing brewers from one direction or another,” he said.
The revived appeal of zwickelbier and kellerbier has not been lost on European brewers. Last year, beer importer Artisanal Imports brought several unfiltered German beers to the American market, including a canned kellerbier called Grevensteiner Original.
Consider it a return to more classical methods of making beer. “If you take the long-range view, that’s what beer drinking has been all about,” said Mark Stratton, Artisanal’s German portfolio manager.