A Dozen Beers That Defined a Decade
In the second and perhaps final decade-end post, let’s turn our attention to those beers that defined the decade. These aren’t just the most popular beers (though in some cases they were), but those that became synonymous with an important development or trend that itself defined the decade.
To use one example I didn’t include on the list: Angry Orchard. One of the biggest trends in drinks in the 2010s was cider. Although cider certainly existed before the last decade, the industry as such was minuscule. Thanks to Angry Orchard, a decade on ciders are available in every grocery store and most pubs nationwide. It would be hard to think about what people were drinking in the 2010s and exclude Angry Orchard. There were similar trends in beer.
In many ways, this is as easy as deciding what those important developments were. If you think the golden ale boom of 2017 was a big deal, then Firestone Walker 805 (number three below) is a gimme. Soured ales made with lactobacillus became commercial hits once brewers added fruit. Unlike 805, Dogfish Head SeaQuench (number six) didn’t spark the trend, but was the product that brought the pieces together and became a national hit. In a few cases, the choice isn’t quite so singular (see my choice for collaborations, number eleven), but the trend certainly was.
Compiling the list revealed a dynamic that changed beer over the past decade: the way the craft and mass market segments cribbed from each other. In the 2010s, big breweries did their best to look small, artisanal, and local, and small breweries started making mass market moves. Craft breweries: embraced cans in a big way. They dropped prices and sold in bulk; got paler, lighter, and less alcoholic; began using a chemistry set of products and additives; and raced to make non-beer products. For decades, the craft segment generated all the new ideas that fueled the industry; in the ‘10s, influence went both ways. Of course, there were other, smaller currents running through the giant industry, and I hope these dozen beers capture the central ones.
So with no further delay, I offer the following, possibly definitive, list.
1. Heady Topper, The Alchemist. The most important trend in the craft segment, and one that has forever changed the trajectory of beer in the US, was the emergence of hazy IPA. There’s really no other candidate here. Heady was the grandfather, the OG, the one that inspired the rest. A raft of breweries followed that specialized in these beers and are now more famous for them (Tree House, Bissell Brothers, Great Notion, Other Half, etc), and a number of hazies out-sell Heady—but when we look back to find the beer that drafted the blueprint, all roads lead to The Alchemist.
2. Tank 7, Boulevard. Saisons and farmhouse beers are an interesting category—they don’t sell well at all, and yet have become a staple made by many breweries. It is routine to see them offered as one option at taprooms, pubs, and restaurants. Tank 7, which has emerged as the only best-selling saison in the country, helped spread the gospel, and Brett-Aged Tank 7 was one of the pioneering wild examples.(Ommegang Hennepin helped pave the way, as well.) I’d argue that mixed-fermentation saisons have become the most accomplished styles brewed in the US. Tank 7 is a big reason why.
3. 805, Firestone Walker. This surprise hit told us quite a bit about the changes happening in craft beer. Up until the mid-10s, there had been a twenty-year intensity arms race. It was at the heart of the original inspiration for craft beer—more flavor and tradition to counteract blandly industrial mass market lagers. But millennials started their beer journey with no memory of old battles, and they enjoyed simple easy-drinking beers. 805, with its California-cool branding and local bona fides, made golden ales cool among younger drinkers—and garnered scores of imitators.
4. Fresh-Squeezed IPA, Deschutes. Hazy IPAs were just one example of a trend that was developing nationwide as the US embraced hops—the move away from bitterness toward the sweeter flavors and aromas characteristic of American hops. When Fresh-Squeezed IPA debuted in 2013, I described it as “sweet”—but it was really what we now call “juicy” (hence the name). It was by no means the only game in town, and was predominantly a Western beer—you might select a different example like Stone’s “Enjoy By” series. But whichever example you prefer, the 2010s were defined by the juice.
5. Grapefruit Sculpin, Ballast Point. The juiciness in hops led to a mid-decade experiment in fruit-juiced IPAs, and the buzziest example was Grapefruit Sculpin. As popular as these beers were in 2015, it’s amazing how quickly the fad faded—but a white hot fad it was. For a couple years, anyway.
6. SeaQuench, Dogfish Head. Wild and mixed-fermentation beers have been brewed in the US since the 90s, but beers acidified solely by Lactobacillus were uncommon—and controversial. On its own, lacto doesn’t add much in the way of depth or complexity, just a shot of clean, pure acidity. When used as a shortcut to barrel-aging, it left something to be desired. When used to acidify simple sippers, however, it’s spectacular. Breweries developed the straightforward technique of kettle-souring, and then used their soured worts like an ingredient to acidify to taste. Fruit beers have been around since the inception of craft brewing, but without acidity, they’re sweet without being properly fruity. With acidity they pop. Breweries started making fruited soured ales commonly around 2015, often calling them goses. That was both inaccurate and confusing. So when Dogfish Head released SeaQuench, they were wise to call it simply a “session sour.” People understood that, and it’s been flying of shelves ever since. This development isn’t one typically touted as important or even particularly good among beer geeks, but it was authentically new, and these beers, made well, are hard to dislike.
7. All Day Session IPA, Founders. All Day is a fine example of a session IPA, but it’s hardly exceptional. What makes this a noteworthy beer is the way Founders sold it—cheaply, in 15-packs and tallboy cans. It was the first purely mass-market beer made by a craft brewery. One of the big trends this decade was the stratification of the craft segment by price, and Founders gambled they could boost sales and therefore production high enough to compete with the bigs on price. (It must have worked: Mahou/San Miguel bought 90% of the company this year.)
8. Mexican Cake, Westbrook. One has to look very closely at national sales numbers to see evidence of pastry stout phenomenon—but among beer geeks it was second only to hazy IPAs. No single brand dominates this category or precisely “defines” it, but my choice is Mexican Cake, first brewed in 2011. Like many pastry beers, it uses dessert as a model, as well as the ingredients that define it. In this case, oats, cocoa nibs, vanilla, cinnamon, and habanero peppers. It’s also a really tasty example of the style—sweet and dessert-like, but not too sweet. It communicates the concept of a Mexican cake while remaining recognizably a beer.
9. Michelob Ultra. What a strange phenomenon. A beer first released in 2002, it performed like a standard light beer until the middle of the 2010s, when it took off. Turns out one word in the ad copy sang with customers and launched Ultra: carbs. “Lose the carbs,” ABI cooed, “not the taste.” That was only half right (even fans acknowledge it tastes like nothing)—and other light beers were also low-carb. But it appealed to a country newly fearful of starches and sugars, so even while other light beers tanked, Ultra soared. And now craft breweries are low-carbing, too.
10. Pivo Pils, Firestone Walker. A wonderful little counter-trend to hazies and flavored malt beverages was the return of proper, full-flavored lagers. This is a nationwide development that lacks a national standard-bearer, but Pivo Pils may serve as a decent choice. Brewer Matt Brynildson cribbed techniques from Birrificio Italiano’s spectacular Tipopils and Pivo became a big hit before 805 took over. Properly-made lagers have become one of the most welcome trends in craft brewing, and they show no signs of flagging. For adults who actually like the taste of beer, lagers arrived just in time.
11. 3-Way IPA, Fort George. Collaborations have been around a long time, but it was only recently that breweries discovered how to make these partnerships commercially potent. My vote—and there are many other examples—is Fort George’s 3-Way IPA. When the first version came out, the brewery was at a crossroads, looking down the barrel of an old flagship and sliding relevance. Partnering with two other breweries, always ones at the center of the IPA zeitgeist, Fort George created their biggest annual hit. It gave them a platform to try new IPA styles, and by 2017, the brewery had turned itself into one of those buzzy IPA breweries it once sought out. 3-Way illustrated that collabs can be used for more than making weird one-offs. They can help a brewery shift its identity—and of course, sell a lot of beer.
12. White Claw. Since this is currently the age of White Claw, I don’t suppose much needs to be said. But it does neatly tie up so many of the threads that had been forming over the decade: the move away from intensity toward drinkability; the shift to low-cal, low-carb, low-ABV drinks; fruity-sweet flavors. Michelob Ultra was an early incarnation of these trends, but craft beer unwittingly drove drinkers that way, too. Craft beer embraced sweetness, made beers that tasted like dessert, juice drinks, and breakfast cereal and adopted mass market pricing, packaging, and branding. Hard seltzer was inevitable, and it’s no surprise White Claw’s chief rival is Boston Beer, a company now dependent on flavored malt beverages and cider to replace flagging sales of beer.
No two people would ever make up the same list, and I’m sure you’ll add comments below. I would like to thank the dozens of folks on Twitter who weighed in with their suggestions—it made compiling this list a more manageable task. Now, your turn—