Though nearly everyone has an opinion on the subject, I’ve found that not everyone approaches the topic of beer in the same way. From my experience with Pop The Cap and Fullsteam, here are five common beer personalities (in some particular order):

• Sir One-Ups a Lot. He (yes, he) has a goal: to convince you that you’ve not tried nearly as many beers has he has. Which is probably true. Even if you quickly cede this simple fact, the conversation may continue to center around the fact that Sir One-Ups a Lot has, indeed, sampled many more beers than you. Surprisingly, some of his assertions will be outlandishly false…but you dare not correct him out of fear that you are becoming, yourself, Sir One-Ups a Lot.And while he may win the battle of Who Has Sampled the Most Beer, you may realize that, overall,  you’ve enjoyed yourself more than SOUL. This is hard to demonstrate and best left to one’s self.
• Happy Newbie. Happy Newbie is a cheerful lass or lad. She’s new to the craft beer world and full of joy over the wide range of beers she’s discovered. Still finding her niche, she’s willing to try new beers and understands that not every beer will be to her liking. Happy Newbies are often tons of fun to be around, because they’re still in this phase of discovery and beer-tinged euphoria.
• Not Bad. Not Bad is someone who tends to believe the definition of beer is narrowly focused. That beer should be of a certain (typically European) tradition. Beers that are hoppy, sour, bold, or generally “beyond the pale” are deemed “not bad.” The challenge for the craft beer enthusiast is to encourage Not Bad to expand on What Was Good (if it wasn’t, in fact, bad.)
• Wincy. Wincy doesn’t like strong tastes in food, wine, spirits, or beer. A moderately hoppy beer (Sierra Nevada Pale Ale) is too bitter; Chimay is just too far out there. Now you may think that Wincy is a lost cause — forever destined to drink Lite beer or Chardonnay — but you’d be surprised. Like Not Bad, Wincy often just needs to discover a beer that has enough in common with what he or she likes in food or wine. A beer that bridges the gap. For Fullsteam, we find that our Sweet Potato Pale Ale often does this trick (if the hops don’t get in the way). Our Scupppernong Sparkling Ale is another bridge (if the distinct notes of muscadine aren’t too unusual.)
• The Zone. The Zone isn’t interested in being converted. He or she is happy with the beer choices they’ve made. It’s not about craft beer or so-called enlightenment: she could be a total hop-head or a Blue Moon drinker. The Zone is happy with where they are in life. They may entertain new beers and new experiences, but it’ll be on their terms. The Zone doesn’t care for strong-arming or convincing, because it comes across as elitist. They’ve likely found a go-to favorite.

No matter who I talk with about beer — people who fall into these five silly stereotypes or those who defy descriptors — I’ve found that a  conversation is much more engaging if the primary focus is food. Not the person’s current notion of “what beer should be.”

Do they like spicy food? Have a sweet tooth? What types of cuisine do they enjoy? What styles of wine?  For North Carolinians, Eastern or Western NC barbecue (that is, vinegar-based or smoky-sweet)?

For example, when talking about Hogwash!, our hickory-smoked brown porter, we have great success talking about the subtle smoke of North Carolina barbecue and how the beer dances around the flavor of the smoked meat with its own hint of smoked hickory. See this conversation in action: a video from Wilson, North Carolina, where we debuted Hogwash to the locals at a barbecue dinner.

Had we instead offered up samples of Hogwash! at a grocery store in Wilson (without food to accompany the beer), we would be setting ourselves up for failure. Or, at the very least, a missed opportunity.

It’s all about framing the conversation. Start with only beer, and you’re already at risk. Following the lead of stalwart breweries like Brooklyn, Great Divide, Stone, Dogfish Head, Allagash, and many others, we at Fullsteam are finding good initial success centering the conversation around food and other drinks. Not necessarily beer.

We invite your thoughts and feedback, either here or on our Facebook page!

1. American Things, and
2. cheering for the underdog.

****

You know the drill: the President and the guys up in Cambridge are getting together for a beer.

By now, you probably know the beers: Bud Lite, Blue Moon, Becks, and Red Stripe.

Feels all Americana, with just a dash of Jamaican and European thrown in for an exotic imported touch, huh?

Too bad the corporate ownership of these beers are anything but American. Bud is now a Belgian-owned corporation (AB InBev), which also owns Becks. Blue Moon is made by South African/Canadian-owned SAB Miller Molson-Coors. Red Stripe is owned by UK-based Diageo, the largest multinational beer, wine and spirits company in the world.

A missed opportunity for American craft beer. Yes, it would have been great for the handlers to choose something Bostonian (my vote was a shared growler of Cambridge Brewing Company).  But experts make their decisions, and you know how it is…the more people provide input, the safer choices become.

Still, I’m an optimist. I  see a surprising silver lining in this odd PR fiascopportunity. Stick with me, and I’ll give you a cookie.

The White House is trying to be both symbolic and safe in its selection of beers. In doing so, it’s exposed a sobering reality picked up by media and citizens nationwide: the beers many people perceive as all-American are, in fact, managed by foreign corporate interests. (Though of course these companies all employ Americans and manage US operations…lest I get too disparaging.)  That said, many Americans — I don’t know how many — are increasingly disillusioned with the notion that their “American” lager ain’t all that American anymore.

***

Look, I realize this is the ultimate fluff public interest story. It’s a respite from the hospice of  healthcare reform. But as a future brewery owner, I can’t help but think about how the choice of beers shapes public opinion and buying patterns.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it turns out I’m okay with the choice of bland beer. Yes, it’s a missed opportunity for American craft ales and lagers. But that opportunity would likely be limited to the one craft brewery chosen. The token nod. The oddball. The so-called “designer beer” that President Obama was afraid to touch during the campaign.

But the beers were all mass-market light lager. The public response? A collective “meh.”  A deflated and disappointed “Is that the best you could do?”

This would not have been the case had the media event taken place in the mid 90s, at the height of the Bud-versus-Miller-versus-Coors era. Today, Americans are bored by it all, driven in part by the media’s exposé the globalization of beer.

In fact, the beer war in America is no longer “I’m a Bud guy” versus “It’s Miller Time.” The conversation has shifted, and the more compelling battle is the scrappy Davids against International Bland.

***

Craft beer will not be at the White House table today. That’s not the story.

The story is that people expected craft beer at the table.

When discussing the Fullsteam market opportunity, I’m often asked if there’s room for another North Carolina brewery. 

Of course there is.

There’s room for probably 100 more.

It’s time for our state — scratch that, our society — to get beyond the mindset that an occasional nod to local beer is sufficient representation. The breweries and brewpubs of North Carolina make quality beer. Fresh beer. Beer made by your neighbor.

In this era of Know Local, we endlessly sing the praises of local cheese. Fresh baked bread. Farmer’s markets and seasonal produce. Local pies, cookies, and cupcakes. NC Wine. Local artisan chocolate. All for good reason: it tastes great. We know and care about the farmer, the vintner, the baker, the roaster. And there’s a feeling of pride that something THIS good came from OUR state. Our soil. Our neighbors. Our land.

Yet there’s this odd exception to the Know Local movement — a hall pass for America’s Last Great Commodity: anonymous industrial beer.

This is pure speculation, but I believe that industrial beer is a way for many people to let their guard down — lest too many things in life become, well, too precious. As denizens of Concerned America, we’re constantly lectured about what we should and shouldn’t eat and what we can and can’t do. And you know what? It gets tiring. A simple beer is a welcome break from the myriad of choices, ethical and environmental dilemmas, social norms, and Nanny Voices.

For others, the equation is a lot simpler. Beer = cheap.

And, of course, most people buy industrial beer because they like it.

Nothing wrong with any of this. We don’t begrudge anyone their choices.

But here’s the thing. Most people — whether they’re predisposed to like craft beer or not — really like our beer. There’s such a wide range of flavor profiles and styles out there, at least one or two are bound to resonate. There’s nothing better than giving a sample of a Sour Rhubarb Ale to someone who “doesn’t like beer” and to hear them say those magically intoxicating words,

“Oh! I really like that!”

And if you don’t find a Fullsteam beer you like, I’m sure you’ll like a beer made from our neighbors: Triangle, Foothills, Big Boss, Carolina Brewery, Carolina Brewing Company, to name a few. The forty-or-so North Carolina breweries produce an amazing range of beers — many of them beer styles you might never have heard of before.

When Fullsteam launches later this year, we are not interested in competing against our brethren in the North Carolina brewing community. We like their beers. A lot. We like them as people. A lot. And, perhaps most importantly, we believe that beer culture thrives when there’s a wide range of excellent choices.

Look at it this way: craft beer has around a 4 percent market share in North Carolina. I’ve asked around, and I think it’s fair to say that only around one-quarter of all craft beer consumed in-state is brewed in North Carolina.  That means for every 100 beers consumed in North Carolina, only 1 in 100 is a North Carolina craft beer. 

Why go after that one beer drinker? It’s the other 99 we’re focused on.

The foodie who boasts about eating local, but has a soft spot for,  I don’t know, Iron City. The wine guy who knows all about Puligny-Montrachet’s chalky soil but drinks Amstel Light out of habit. The busy and overwhelmed grocery shopper who buys whatever is on sale.

That’s our market. THAT’S the opportunity.

It’s not about that 1 percent who know and love North Carolina beer. It’s about the other 99.