Book of Lists: 3) Best Breweries to Buy if You Have Chobani Money
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A publishing phenomenon arrived in the 1970s: The Book of Lists. It was a series of apparently wildly popular books first published in 1977 that functioned as pre-internet topic-surfing. People love lists (pre- or post-internet) and it is exactly the kind of material blogging was invented to showcase. Which got me thinking. I can do lists. Hell, I can do definitive lists. So I gathered my resources and have set forth compiling a modern-day version of the Book of Lists here, on the subject of beer.
Not long ago, Anchor Brewing, a recently discarded and derelict brewery waiting its dismemberment, received a reprieve when the ultimate angel investor, Chobani founder Hamdi Ulukaya, swept in and saved it. Anchor is, of course, one of the most historic and important extant American breweries, and losing it would have been a loss to our cultural heritage. Those kinds of losses happen constantly—they represent one of the few constants in brewing. But what if you had Chobani money and you could save one? Which brewery, threatened by changing tastes, poor corporate ownership, or other misfortunes, would we preserve if money wasn’t a barrier?
As always, our researchers have been combing the globe, applying rigorous methods both quantitative and qualitative, and they’ve come up with the following list for your consideration.
A note on the list. If a person visited Bamberg with a check for €100 million, they could probably convince the Trum family to part with Schlenkerla. But that isn’t the point of this exercise, which is to preserve endangered breweries. Our crack team looked at breweries owned by multinational corporations, breweries making (less and less) beer of a declining style, or breweries that, like Anchor, were suffering declines in sales—or in one rare case, which would enjoy the boost of international attention.
10. Deschutes. There aren’t many founding-era American craft breweries left. Most have passed on, some, like Bell’s and Goose Island, have already been acquired. Few are as intact in spirit and body as Deschutes, however—though the 36-year-old has been in decline from its Fresh Squeezed-fueled growth spurt a decade ago. Owner Gary Fish has fielded uncountable offers for the brewery and rejected them all, but at some point he’ll be looking for a succession plan. He’d look more favorably on a Ulukaya-type offer than one from Bud.
9. Brouwerij Roman. The blush is off the Belgian rose, home to many of the world’s quaintest, quirkiest breweries, which means your shopping dollar will go farther here. The first of our three Belgian entrants is not one most Americans know. Roman is a gorgeous, ancient brewery making mostly uninteresting beer. That it is so unknown is evidence of the failures of the family ownership to seize a new market. It is, moreover, one of the most beautiful breweries in the world, and could become a source of national pride—if anyone ever visited.
8. Aukštaitijos Bravorai. Despite some positive press in the past decade (including my efforts), Lithuanian beer is almost completely unknown outside the Baltics. This is a tragedy, given that it represents one of the most unusual and intact beer cultures in the world. This brewery, maker of the Davros line of traditional beers, brings the farmhouse to the alehouse. It may not be possible to turn the world toward these sweet, low-carbonation beers, but that makes it a perfect endeavor for the idle billionaire. This brewery isn’t in danger, but with the right ownership might transform the world’s impression of Lithuanian beer. Another good choice would be Vilniaus Alus.
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7. Liefmans. This Belgian casualty was rescued, sort of, by Duvel, after it went bankrupt in 2008. Initially wort-production moved to one of Duvel’s other plants, while blending remained in the old building in Oudenaarde (though apparently it has returned?), and no doubt the sale saved Liefmans. Nevertheless, it lost a great deal of its currency as an important beer both in and outside Belgium and could be poised for a renaissance should the right owner arrive.
6. Schwechat. I admit it doesn’t look like much, a dismal industrial plant in an industrial suburb of Vienna near the airport. Nevertheless, this is one of the most historic breweries still making beer, the location from which Anton Dreher introduced his famous pale lager. It would become one of the most successful breweries in the world thanks to those lagers, which competed with pilsner for the hearts of 19th century drinkers. In the past decade, Schwechat reintroduced a Wiener Lager, claiming their august heritage, and it is a tremendous beer. Heineken owns the brewery and has done little with it, however—certainly nothing to honor its immense heritage. Possibilities dance in the mind.
5. La Choulette. Another of the forgotten regions is France’s northern tip, the portion scarred by WWI trench warfare and dotted with slag heaps that speak to its coal-mining past. Lille was once one of the world’s most important brewing cities, and around it are the makers of biere de gardes, those strange, bock-like ales. Many are delightful and our researchers weren’t able to determine which might be the most endangered, though France’s increasingly robust craft sector has sidelined these breweries. So our first inquiries would go to La Choulette, maker of characterful and elegant ales.
4. Spaten. It’s possible Spaten is not in our budget, but researchers believe some clever wheeling and dealing would cause owner AB InBev to part with perhaps the most important name in German brewing. In an era when Bavarian brewing was considered a backwater, the Sedlmayrs, father and son, revolutionized their brewery and helped place lagers on the world’s tables. Spaten was one of the first breweries to use a thermometer, the first refrigerated brewery, the first Munich brewery to use steam engine, the brewery that introduced Munich malt, and the first brewery to produce a light-colored beer in Munich. Finally, it is one of the six breweries allowed to serve beer at Oktoberfest. All of that history has been submerged behind the bland corporate branding of its Belgo-Brazilian owner AB InBev. It deserves better.
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3. Adnams. The slow decline of cask ale has been a catastrophe for Britain’s fleet of regional breweries. Decade by decade, their old wrought-iron gates have closed for the last time, their innards gutted and turned into shopping centers or flats. A few still remain, but one wonders for how long. Adnams, one of the best, is currently looking for a buyer. Located in the beautiful coastal town of Southwold, Adnams (founded 1872) is a classic Victorian-era brewery with a few upgrades. It has a modern brewhouse, while retaining its traditional square fermenters and finicky two-strain yeast. Long regarded as one of the most accomplished brewers, it is home to multiple classics like Tally-Ho, Broadside, and Old Ale.
2. Pilsner Urquell. Another stretch goal, Urquell is valuable not just for the golden lagers it sells worldwide (though less of it than you might imagine), but the large campus and 11 kilometers of cellars that run underneath. It even has two functional (and gorgeous) brewhouses, a cool and empty water tower, and loads of beautiful buildings dotting a lovely campus. It might require Elon Musk money, but let’s not quibble. I don’t need to go into why this brewery is important (though I have) historically, but I can add the experience I had in January when I visited Prague. After a brief dalliance with craft beer, the Czechs are firmly back in the světlé pivo camp. Americans may imagine Urquell is akin to Anheuser-Busch in the US, but the truth is much different. Czechs love Urquell and consider it a point of national pride. It is far more like Guinness in Ireland. No corporation should be entrusted with the safekeeping of this national treasure.
1. Rodenbach. Rodenbach isn’t a best-seller nor an important style of beer. It is, more than any other brewery in the world, a unique heritage site where beer is produced in a manner that could literally not be replicated. Rodenbach spends years in the forest of foeders that inhabit its extensive cellars, all of which were inoculated with wild yeast from the era in which Rodenbach used natural fermentation. The flavors in the beer are unique and specific. It also stands as the keeper of a tradition of brewing it helped birth two centuries ago. To stand amid those great, silent vats is to understand immediately that this brewery must be preserved at all costs.