Here for the (American) beer

A showcase for US craft beer took me outside my comfort zone - and made me think about how we talk to non-specialists. Plus: what (wine) I've been drinking this week

Hop dreams: clockwise from top left, Kerri Stacks of Bold Mariner Brewing Co; Bill Tresler of Hinterland Brewing Co; Stephen and Dan Hughes, founders of Coldfire Brewing Co; my local craft beer joint, Birdhouse Brewery, south London

Large wine glasses sat on the table in front of us, but they weren’t filled with wine. Instead, it was beer – Bold Mariner Brewing Co’s 1944 golden pale lager, to be exact, which I sipped as co-owner Kerri Stacks told us about her beer. For this was the Brewers’ Association of America annual London lunch, at Manteca restaurant in hip Shoreditch. But while I am an enthusiastic beer drinker – and the 1944 was excellent – it’s something I rarely write about.

I suppose it’s often positive to be put outside your comfort zone. Except when the zone you’re trying out is adjacent to your own yet so utterly different from it, it’s a little disorienting. There is no overlap between the worlds of wine and beer journalism, save for common issues of concern such as alcohol taxes and consumption trends. The Brewers Journal assumes roughly the same prominence in my professional life as does Practical Caravan Magazine (and I’m sure beer writers feel much the same way about Decanter magazine.)

Yet I am an Americanophile, the result of having lived most of my twenties in the US while doing an American history PhD at Duke University and working after that in Detroit. I was keen to know more about American craft beer. And it’s nice to be in a roomful of friendly, enthusiastic Americans, even if some of them are inevitably wearing hats indoors.

While there is evidently some cross-pollination between American and European wine producers, the beer relationship is quite different – especially in Britain. American craft beer has had an outsize influence on British brewing, following US breweries’ own remarkable renaissance.

When I arrived in North Carolina in 1987, US brewing had begun the recovery from its nadir: in 1980, fewer than 50 breweries were still operating nationally, and the industry was dominated by bland pilsners pumped out by the likes of Anheuser-Busch, Miller and Coors. From the early 90s, craft breweries sprang up even in then-unhip places like Durham, NC. You could get Boston Beer Co’s Samuel Adams lager, served at this lunch with pasta and duck ragu, at gas stations. And today there are more than 9,000 US craft breweries.

The influence of that scene made itself felt in the UK from the early 2000s, aided by an improbable hero, then-Chancellor Gordon Brown, who in 2002 introduced a significant tax break for smaller breweries. British craft-brewing pioneers such as Kernel began making beers in American styles: with much more hop flavour, including bolder, more citrussy varieties, and in a much wider range of styles than the then-dominant bitters and lagers. So today, within a few minutes’ walk of my house in south London, I can for instance buy saison and black IPA styles at Bullfinch Brewery and white IPA or amber beer at Bird House Brewery.

And indeed IPA is the most ubiquitous of the American styles now enjoyed here. It marks an improbable revival for a style invented in Britain: created in the late eighteenth century, Indian Pale Ale was brewed hoppier and stronger to withstand the sea voyage to the empire. Yet by the time I started drinking in pubs in the 1980s, it had long since become an old man’s drink.

So it was that with the second course of lunch, I found myself drinking this brewing re-export in the shape of Hinterland Brewery’s Jamaican Haze IPA, from Green Bay, Wisconsin, bursting with citrus flavours. Like many American beers, for me it was a little strong at 6.8 per cent alcohol. But American tastes inevitably change too. “Now IPA is seen as dad’s beer,” says Garrett Marrero, founder of Hawaii’s Maui Brewing Co. “So kids want something different.”

I don’t know if the kids are going to be supping Coldfire Brewing’s Cerise Rouge 2024, but it’s certainly different. The brewery matures this beer in white wine barrels and re-ferments it on local Oregon cherries, in a Belgian kriek fruit-beer style. Manteca’s match of pork chop with cherry mostarda was inspired. Even more leftfield was Toppling Goliath Brewing Co’s “King Sue” Imperial IPA: thick, orangey, and very powerful at 8.2 per cent alcohol.

At this point, I really needed some guidance: people were referring to the King Sue as a “double IPA”. But what did that mean? I felt a bit silly asking – the kind of feeling I suspect non-wine specialists have when someone like me starts blathering about “time in barrique” or similar. But journalists exist to ask questions and, if necessary, annoy: and Marrero patiently explained the process of double-hopping, adding two lots of hops, the second either during or after fermentation process, to add additional aroma and flavour.

But beyond such technicalities, the beer industry actually has quite a lot in common with wine. Both face serious challenges in falling alcohol consumption – British brewer BrewDog announced last week that it is closing ten bars – and the aggressive march of neo-prohibitionists in areas like official alcohol guidelines. And now exporters face some of the same issues in Donald Trump’s destructive tariff wars. Trump’s bullying will hurt European exporters of wine, beer and spirits; if the EU decides to retaliate, US wine and beer exporters will similarly face the pain of selling to European customers at higher prices.

Both industries are particularly concerned about change in consumption habits among young people, searching for new products and formats to attract them. Toppling Goliath, for example, make Merry Rain, a cannabis-infused sparkling water. And I was startled by the strength of reaction from beer writer Melissa Cole, sitting opposite me, when asked her views on Jubel, a lager with added fruit juice. I mean, if people want to drink it? But I suppose it’s about like asking me what I think of canned low-alcohol pét nat.

I have on occasion compared many consumers’ undemanding attitudes to wine with my own embarrassingly undiscerning approach to beer: I know that Stella Artois is industrially produced rubbish, but it does the job. It’s really just a question of persuading me how much better the alternatives are. That remains the prime consumer-facing task of both wine and beer journalists. I promise not to talk about malolactic fermentation if they don’t go on about double dry hopping.

Where to find American craft beer in London

Beer Merchant’s Tap, Hackney Wick – taproom and bottle shop

Utobeer, Borough Market – bottle shop and The Rake pub

Cask Pub & Kitchen, Pimlico – pub, obviously

Amathus Drinks, Soho – wine shop with a decent beer selection, including American imports.

Strange brew: Coldfire’s Cerise Rouge 2024 and Toppling Goliath’s King Sue Imperial IPA with pork chop, cherries and roast potatoes

What I’ve been drinking this week

Three Iberian whites for summer:

Esporão Quinta do Ameal “Bico Amarelo” 2024, vinho verde – I’m not generally a fan of Portugal’s vinho verde style – some are a bit thin, with a slight spritz – but this is very pleasant summer drinking. A blend of Avesso, Loureiro and Alvarinho (ie Albariño) grapes, this offers lots of fresh, citrussy fruit with hints of something more tropical. Good value (quite widely available, from £8.75 at The Wine Society.)

Muga Rioja Blanco 2023 – classic white Rioja in a more modern style, crisp with just a touch of richness from fermentation in barrel. I drank with (my own) seafood paella (Waitrose, Waud Wines, Wines of Interest, from £14. The Wine Society are on to the 2024, £12.50.)

Sa Cussa Antònia 2024, Mallorca – an unusual Mallorcan white from the island’s leading boutique producer, 4 Kilos, made mostly from local grape Prensal and the balance Macabeu. I liked its balance of freshness with a touch of grapey richness. I drank this by the glass (£10.50) at the brilliant Barrafina on Adelaide St, London and now find that it isn’t available elsewhere: this London Spanish chain must import it themselves. So you’ll just have to go there if you want to try it…

• Transparency declaration: I attended the American brewers’ lunch as their guest. The vinho verde was a free sample.

• Look out for my new book with Jane Masters MW, Rooted in Change: The Stories Behind Sustainable Wine – out 1 October from the Academie du Vin Library.