The idea started swirling around in my head after Bryan Roth, my editor and co-worker over at Good Beer Hunting, asked a simple question on a podcast intro I wrote: why did my obsession with craft beer subside?
In the intro, I talked about how I used to be obsessed with craft beer, and it didn’t leave room for anything else. But eventually, that obsession waned, which made room for me to explore spirits and cocktails. Some of you might remember this phase from all the cocktail videos I shared on my Instagram. I remember how exciting it was to dive into this new-to-me world. And it was a welcome reprieve from beer, especially since I was working in a brewery and had to think and talk and write about beer all day.
I wrote before about how I almost ghosted craft beer, comparing my love for the industry and community to dating. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t reflected on this question before, but Bryan’s question continued to nag at me: why did my obsession with craft beer subside?
I realized I wasn’t thinking only of myself—I was thinking about the community at large. For a while, I have felt this shift. The rolling boil of excitement had simmered. Still alive, but not as spirited as before. At first I thought it was only me, and that my shifting relationship with beer had colored my interpretation of what was happening around me.
Then I thought back to Courtney Iseman’s piece “Bad News Continues to Be More Ubiquitous in Craft Beer Than Hazy IPAs.” This line stuck out to me: I can’t deny I’ve got a nagging desire to just stop paying attention for maybe five years and then check back in, so I don’t have to watch the aggravating missteps in real time.
The title of her piece alone is a reminder that it isn’t a great time to be a craft beer fan. It’s hard to have excitement and enthusiasm when waves of bad news continue to knock the life out of you. It would be much easier to draw the blinds and completely disappear into the comfort of your beverage of choice than to witness what’s happening in craft beer (and honestly, the world) right now.
And I’m not the only one who thinks something is off…
Last week, Boak & Bailey asked if the thrill was gone and even offered ways in which we could bring back the excitement. But maybe it’s not that simple.
Jeff Alworth mentioned Boak & Bailey’s piece on his blog, reassuring readers that beer isn’t dead, but merely going through a phase. If you’ve spent enough time in craft beer, you’ve seen some of these phases.
I can mark the beginning of my journey with the West Coast IPAs and the race to make the dankest, most aggressively hopped IPA in the land. That eventually led to the haze craze and the many smoothie sours that played on the nostalgic childhood of any kid that grew up in the 90s. Now, we’re returning to more traditional styles, leaving the gummy worms as a snack and not an adjunct.
The tap lists aren’t the only things changing. Our habits and priorities have shifted over the years. What was once exciting and new feels…common. Then, add in the industry’s high rate of burnout and failure at inclusivity, and it’s no wonder why people are feeling like the thrill is gone.
Perhaps we’re entering our own dark age of sorts, similar to the one the cocktail world found themselves in from the 1960s to 1990s after the golden-age of pre-Prohibition cocktails. Ask a bartender, mixologist, or cocktail aficionado about this period, and they probably won’t have great things to say about it. This era gave birth to the Fuzzy Navel, Appletini, Blue Hawaiis, and the Amaretto Sour, cocktails that instantly trigger memories of hangovers past. But if they’re your jam, who am I to judge?
That’s life—a series of rising and falling, ebbing and flowing. During one of my lows, I whined to my brother about my current existence, and he reminded me that without the lows, I would never appreciate the highs.
There’s no telling where we are on this downslope or when we’ll swing back to reach the summit. Until then, here are a few things we can do to get through this rough patch:
Return to the classics. This is the perfect time to dive back into the beers that gave us that initial spark. Classic beers like Allagash White, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. and Bell’s Two Hearted Ale are still as good as that first sip.
Find new ways to engage with beer. In the early days, I spent a lot of time chasing down new releases and sharing them on Instagram. That all changed with the pandemic, and I haven’t had the desire to return to that way of life. Instead, I look for new ways to enjoy beer, like diving into the history of my favorite styles or attending festivals and events that deepen my knowledge.
Become a helper. There are SO many things to fix in the beer industry. Find a problem that needs fixing and think of ways you can contribute to its solution.
What’s Good
After reading “Don’t Believe It,” Charlie Donlea has quickly become a fave. His books have a way of hooking you and not letting go. I recently finished his fourth book, “Some Choose Darkness,” and I’ll probably start another over the weekend.
While I’ll choose Batman over Superman any day, I have been loving “Superman & Lois,” which finished its third season and got renewed for a fourth. Tyler Hoechlin aka Derek Hale, for any Teen Wolf fans out there, does an awesome job of playing Daddy Superman. Lois, played by Elizabeth Tulloch, is annoying, but isn’t Lois ALWAYS annoying? Overall, I love seeing Superman as a dad and balancing family life with protecting the world. It’s probably my favorite portrayal of Superman yet.
Thank you for reading!
Until next time,
Stephanie
Stephanie Grant is an Atlanta-based storyteller and content creator for the food and beverage industry. Click here to learn more about her work and how you can work together.
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