BEER WITH A SOCIALIST: Why is the non-brewing Flat12 in Jeffersonville considered a "brewery" by LEO Weekly but Gordon Biersch isn't? That's dumb, don't you think?

It's a very simple question: exactly how can Flat12 in Jeffersonville be considered a brewery?

Asking this very simple question isn't to be construed as a knock against Flat12. I like some of Flat12's beers, and I enjoy drinking beers at their riverside taproom. What I like far less is journalistic inconsistency, hence my question. As an aside, be aware that I'm not directing this query to Kevin Gibson, a free-lancer who gets beer right and doesn't make editorial decisions.

According to LEO Weekly, which lately fancies itself a Louisville-area craft beer authority, Flat12 in Jeffersonville is a brewery.

Our favorite winter beers from local breweries this season, by Syd Bishop (LEO Weekly)

There are few better ways to celebrate the solstice than a nice warming beverage to help keep the night at bay. From black IPAs to hearty stouts, there are a host of options, spiced, smooth or otherwise, to cheer you up on the darkest days. As the brewing community grows here, so does its variety, including collaborations with several coffee shops in town, including Sunergos, Quills and Heine Bros. From dark brews to holiday specials, our Louisville breweries have you covered.

Flat12 Bierworks
Dan Patch in a Pear Tree
By far the most ambitious beer on the list, the Dan Patch in a Pear Tree, is a pear-flavored seasonal with a nice pop on the front end. A light body capped with a faint white foam lace, this is much lighter than many beers typically gravitate toward in this season, but it’s a wonderful diversion as such. Yielding a 4.7 percent ABV and 12 IBU, this is an imminently sessionable beer, perfect for sharing. The fruited flavors are never overwhelming, instead they form delicious and ephemeral moments that creep in occasionally.

Let's review a few facts from actual history. Flat12's Jeffersonville expansion was announced in 2014. The usual economic development incentives were harvested from Jeffersonville municipal officials amid glowing predictions of future impacts, and remodeling slowly began.

MORE ON TAP: Flat 12 Bierwerks to run brewery alongside taproom, by Elizabeth Beilman (News and Maybune)

Just weeks after Flat 12 Bierwerks announced it would open a taproom in Jeffersonville, the company decided to expand operations to include a fully functioning brewery on site.

Sean O’Connor, CEO of Flat 12, said the brewery will make “more than a couple” beer varieties, many that will be unique to Southern Indiana. The facility will have the capacity to brew at least 40,000 barrels of beer per year, which could be more than the amount made at the Indianapolis brewery. For most brewers, a barrel is equal to two kegs, or 31 gallons.

The taproom finally opened in 2016, but the brewery never came about.

The Jeffersonville taproom exists without making beer much in the same way that Tin Man-Kokomo existed with Tin Man Brewing in Evansville before the original brewery dissolved into Falls City Beer under the ownership of their Neace Ventures owner.

Flat12 in Jeffersonville was not included in an ownership change announced earlier this month, which concerns only the original Indianapolis location.

FLAT12 WELCOMES BOOKS & BREWS', JASON WUERFEL AS NEW OWNER

The Flat12 team is excited to announce we have changed ownership, as we welcome Books & Brews owner, Jason Wuerfel, our new CEO.

The Flat12 production team, led by our Head Brewer, Sean Lewis, has been contract brewing Books & Brews’ beers for the past two years, so it was a natural move for our organizations to join forces. Aggressive adaptation is necessary in this increasingly competitive craft beer landscape, and the move will allow both of our companies to continue to produce the beers, events and ambiance our consumers have come to love.

There already had been an ownership reshuffle at Flat12 in 2016, occurring after the 2014 Jeffersonville brewing expansion was announced -- and did I mention that brewing by Flat12 never took place in Jeffersonville?

Andy Teed explains.

In 2015, I started looking for a business here at home that I could own which would allow me to strengthen my community ties. The opportunity to buy Flat12 came in late 2016, and I jumped on it.

At some point during the process of Teed taking control of Flat12, co-founder and Indianapolis resident O'Connor relinquished his ownership share of the mother ship, but retained the Jeffersonville taproom.

Where brewing never once took place.

All this and LEO Weekly persists in describing Flat12 not only as a brewery, but as a "local" brewery, when the owner lives in Indianapolis and there has not been a single batch of beer "brewed" on site by Flat12 in the city of Jeffersonville, ever.

So, how does LEO Weekly define "our Louisville breweries"?

What a glorious time to love beer! The Louisville region, including Southern Indiana, has 21 breweries, including 19 locally-owned breweries. Don’t be overwhelmed by the number. Each has its own style, tastes and reasons to visit. That includes much more than the craft brews, as many brewhouses match their creative, award-winning suds with inventive, delicious food. We’ve been to all 19 of our homegrown beer-makers more than a few times, so here is the 411 on where to go for what.

Absent any clear reasoning or coherent criteria, the definition still should be easy: if brewing takes place there, it's a brewery -- right? Hence LEO's list of 19 "homegrown beer-makers," which seems not to count multiple brewing locations, as with Against the Grain, New Albanian and the like.

Except make that 18 -- because Flat12 isn't homegrown and doesn't brew, meaning that Gordon Biersch -- which isn't homegrown but does brew in Louisville every drop of Biersch-branded beer it sells in Louisville -- belongs on the list according to at least one of LEO's weirdly contradictory barometers.

Allow me to add that Biersch is excluded even though its Louisville brew team creates unique in-house recipes unavailable at any other Biersch.

Meanwhile, who's the second of two non-local breweries? I suppose BJ's Restaurant & Brewhouse in the Oxmoor Center, but of course everyone knows they don't brew, because BJ's just sells beers of its own, brewed somewhere else and brought to Louisville for tapping.

In short, just like Flat12 in Jeffersonville.

LEO Weekly has some homework to do, although for some reason I can already hear the excuse: Spuds McKenzie ate it.

BEER WITH A SOCIALIST: An issue with LEO Weekly's Beer Issue, and a good review for Pints & Union.

The Great American Beer Festival unspools this weekend, and anyone who's anyone in beer circles is out there in Denver, pounding the new generation of Chantilly Cream Custard Stouts.

Meanwhile, I'm right here in Nawbany, getting back to where I once belonged. If I had my druthers I'd be in Europe, not Colorado. In other words, my condition is perfectly scattershot, and therefore normal.

This week's Louisville Eccentric Observer (LEO) is the annual Beer Issue, with an excellent cover story about women who brew.

What's more, our local alternative weekly has started collating its beer news items in one spot.

LEO has a new web page devoted to all things local beer. Our brewery guide, past Beer Issue stories, an archive of I'd Tap That... Beer columns and the latest season picks.

This is helpful, although I'd like to see a new beer column devoted to classicist ruminations on a theme of comfort beer. Then again, edgy youthful writers probably aren't as well versed in such matters.

Speaking of comfort, it's pure joy to see so many of free-lancer Kevin Gibson's beer bylines collected in one place amid LEO's new beer bullpen. Kevin gets the facts right, and he's also been known to quaff the occasional sample for the sake of accuracy.

Concurrently, I must say that LEO's Big Brewery List is somewhat confused -- and Kevin had nothing to do with it.

The Louisville region, including Southern Indiana, has 21 breweries, including 19 locally-owned breweries.

Flat12 in Jeffersonville appears in the list, and Gordon Biersch does not, except that Flat12 is just as non-locally owned as Biersch; however, in terms of actually brewing beer in a physical location, Biersch is more local than Flat12.

That's because Flat12's beers are brewed in Indianapolis, while all of Biersch's beers are brewed at its Louisville location. As proof, here's the first paragraph of Kevin's cover story.

The two men were enjoying the hefeweizen beer that Maggie Bray had brewed as assistant brewer at Gordon-Biersch — and they had questions about it… but not for her.

Let's see.

Flat12 doesn't brew in Jeffersonville, and it's somehow still local. Biersch does brew in Louisville, and it isn't. Flat12 seems always to get this sort of free pass, and it should not. Flat12 accepted economic development incentives to brew in Jeffersonville, and never did. Were these incentives refunded? At the end of the day, Flat12 in Jeffersonville is a tap room, not a brewery -- and coverage should reflect this simple fact.

Finally, what's the 21st (omitted) brewer? Is it those guys in the Oxmoor Mall? Well, doesn't BJ's import its beer in kegs from production central, just like Flat12? It's a taproom, not a brewery -- just like Flat12.

This brings me to an undisputed highlight of the current issue. Robin Garr captures the Pints&union vibe quite well.

Good beer, food boost Pints & Union’s cozy pub vibe, by Robin Garr (LEO)

Every now and then, a new local place to eat and drink makes me exceptionally happy. Sure, I’m always glad to see any new eatery come to town. But, now and then, a fresh arrival delivers such pleasure in its food, drink and mood that it makes me jump up and down in delight.

Consider, if you will, Pints & Union in downtown New Albany, the utterly lovable restaurant … er, no, beer bar? … um, no, not that, nor a brewpub either. It’s a public house, a European-style pub, then, built into the beautifully renovated shell of an 1880s-era general store that later served as a neighborhood saloon.

In an age when most restaurants seem rigged for noise, Pints & Union is… well, not quiet, but tuned for sociability, with soft folk music in the background that’s loud enough to hear but not enough to dampen conversation. What’s more, there’s nary a television in the place. Stop, take your eyes from the screen and turn them to the people at your table. Don’t feel chatty? Grab a book from the extensive collection, or settle down with a friend for checkers, chess or a board game.

Pints & Union takes its beer seriously, without taking it snobbishly ...

Much appreciated. Now if you'll excuse me, it's back to work.

THE BEER BEAT: Of seminars, books and beer: Louisville brewing history with Kevin Gibson.

Six seeks ago, we finally made it "over" to 3rd Turn Brewery. J-Town's only 15 miles from where I live, and yet it seems like so very far away.

That's why we have tour buses.

THE BEER BEAT: I brought my passport for beers at J-town's 3rd Turn Brewery.

In this account of our visit, I quoted my friend Kevin Gibson, a rigorously local writer who often finds himself writing about local beer.

A few days ago Kevin popped up again somewhere on a social media feed, leading to this event in January at 3rd Turn.

Beer History with Kevin Gibson Benefiting Active Heroes
Cost: $35.00
Date and Time: Thursday, January 25; 6-8pm
Location: 3rd Turn Brewery, 10408 Watterson Trail, Louisville, KY 40299

Join us at 3rd Turn Brewery with author Kevin Gibson who will teach us about Louisville's brewing history and the current craft beer scene. Tickets are required and the event benefits Active Heroes.
​
Taught by: Kevin Gibson is a Louisville, Ky.-based free-lance writer who writes about everything from food to music to beer to professional football. He loves bacon, loathes cucumbers and once interviewed Yoko Ono. He published his first novel in 2011, Louisville Beer: Derby City History on Draft, in 2014, and his latest book, 100 Things to Do in Louisville Before You Die, was released in spring 2016. He also co-hosts a local radio show and plays in a band called The Uncommon Houseflies.

Another friend, Bob, phoned last night. During the conversation he mentioned his membership in Rotary; bizarrely, I awakened this morning to a confusing mishmash of Kevin Gibson, Rotary and Louisville Beer (those eight ales yesterday may have been a contributing factor) until it dawned on me that I'd previously combined these elements in a blog post -- last year, maybe?

Um, nope. It was July 16, 2015, when I connected dots to a review of Kevin's beer book which I'd contributed to Food & Dining the preceding year.

It's worth revisiting, so here it is again, lightly edited.

---

ON THE AVENUES: Louisville Beer, then and now ... and cheers to Rotary.

Let's take a break from the daily political give and take. I'm booked at the Rotary Club today to speak about beer and brewing, and in recognition of this, here is a reprint of one of my Food & Dining Magazine columns from 2014.

It's a beer book review, and New Albany is to be considered Louisville for the purposes of analysis. Back in 1840, did a New Albanian stop by Hew Ainslie's brewery for a bucket of ale, then carry it down to the river, perhaps throwing out a line, and maybe contemplating the existence of slavery on the opposite river bank?

Probably. Beer does that to a person.

---

“Anyone who has groped among the dark beer dungeons which lie for a number of deep streets under Phoenix Hill, would scarcely imagine while in those dark, chilly caves, that far above him the place would grow into such an efflorescence of beauty, fashion and brightness.”

From 1865 until 1919, Phoenix Hill Park was Louisville’s foremost beer garden, except that beer and sausages weren’t the only attractions. The park was a multi-tasking entertainment Mecca (or Munich), boasting a bandstand, bowling alley, dance hall, skating rink and velodrome, and even the fabled Hofbrauhaus itself never managed so many thirst-inducing brand extensions atop its lagering cellars.

For a half century prior to the advent of Prohibition, Louisville was a town of brewing renown, and beer kept pace with bourbon in the popular imagination. It’s true that Prohibition smashed the tablets, but even without the villainy of legislated abstention, beer’s place in local culture would have changed with passing years, as norms brought to the area by German immigrants became exposed to the diffusion of the American melting pot.

It’s a fascinating story, and local writer Kevin Gibson tells it very well in his new book, Louisville Beer: Derby City History on Draft, an account of beer’s rise, fall and resurgence in Louisville.

Gibson writes chronologically, beginning with Louisville’s earliest Anglo-Scottish ale traditions and concluding with today’s local craft beer boom. He detours briefly to consider the brewing process and beer styles, including our indigenous Kentucky Common and the Bock beers that once proliferated in springtime.

Wisely, Gibson does not detour from the beer tale at hand to attempt a detailed examination of the alpha acid content of bittering hops used in pre-Prohibition Pilsner. Rather, he describes the experience of Louisville beer in everyday life, and documents how it has changed over time.

---

In post-Colonial years through the early 1800s, beer generally was of secondary consideration to cider and whisky – until substantial numbers of Germans began coming to this area following the revolutions of 1848. They brought the formative technological underpinnings of lager brewing, which was poised to explode into a worldwide phenomenon.

According to Gibson, this 19th-century German diaspora tended to be more selective and organized than we might assume. Upon reaching their ultimate destinations in America, immigrants were absorbed into full-scale communities. Cultural proclivities included beer as an integral part of daily nutrition and social life, and consequently, some Louisville neighborhoods were as German as the Fatherland itself.

There were dozens of small breweries, and beer was consumed voluminously – at breakfast (soup with stale beer as stock); in the workplace, where “small” beer was preferred to mere water; and at night, when men gathered over platters of pork and dumplings to soothe the rigors of the day.

However, there was another viewpoint. Precisely because these new arrivals enjoyed their tankards, it was a natural next step for “Know Nothing” nativists to orchestrate a backlash, conflating beer with the evils of immigration, and incorporating pre-existing xenophobia into a program of opposition.

When anti-immigrant sentiments merged with fundamentalist Protestantism, finding a ready ally in do-gooder “progressives” groups espousing the imperative of societal improvement, a full-fledged temperance movement was born.

It was Carrie Nation-building: God says drinking is bad, and just look at all those non-English speaking, beer-drinking immigrants taking our jobs; what’s more, if we’d all work sober and harder, we’d be more efficient cogs of capitalism – and that’s the real American religion. Cue hatchets flying, mostly against barroom furniture, but sadly, sometimes aimed at people, too.

The period 1933-1977, between Repeal to Falls City Brewing Company’s closure, is critical, and Gibson does not neglect it.

During the 1930s and 1940s, with Prohibition over and America emerging from World War II as the planet’s economic powerhouse, it seemed that a local brewing renaissance was happening. Fehr’s, Oertel’s and Falls City rose from “near” beer to regional prominence almost overnight. The smaller neighborhood breweries were gone, and Louisville’s Big Three profited.

But it was an illusion. By the mid-1960s, the verdict already was becoming clear: A regional-sized production brewery in a city like Louisville enjoyed preferential economies of scale when compared to the extinct smaller operators, but larger entities higher up the beer chain could commoditize beer even more efficiently than the regionals. The market was about price point, and the higher end didn’t yet exist apart from a handful of imports.

Budweiser and Miller emerged victorious, and Louisville brewing ceased to exist. It didn’t return until 1990, when David Pierce brewed a legal batch of pale ale for the long defunct Charley’s Restaurant on Main Street. Pierce helped open the Silo Brewery in 1992, and manned the brewhouse for Bluegrass Brewing Company from 1993 through 2009. The contemporary brewing era had begun, and is remains vibrant.

---

Louisville Beer is especially useful in providing descriptive attention to the two decades elapsing since brewing’s return. What’s more, this section of Gibson’s narrative offers context, and the inescapable conclusion is that the present-day craft constitutes a revolution all its own, rather than a restoration of past glories.

The late Tony Judt had this to say about the historian’s purpose: “You cannot invent or exploit the past for present purposes.” In this sense, although previous epochs of Louisville beer share similarities, they were very different from what craft beer has become.

Impressive annual growth aside, craft brewing in the year 2014 remains a minority-driven, premium-priced, niche phenomenon, not the universal cultural norm of the pre-1900 period, when Louisville brewing was genuinely localized during a time when being a locavore almost was a default condition.

Granted, beer and food came to Louisville from elsewhere in America, as originally conveyed on river boats, and later in railway cars. At times, beer came from very far away; witness a Louisville hotel restaurant menu in 1857 boasting French wines and Guinness Stout from Dublin. Nonetheless, most beer produced by 19th-century Louisville neighborhood breweries was consumed within the same neighborhood.

Furthermore, no Louisville craft brewer today can lay claim to the market hegemony of Fehr’s, Oertel’s and Fall City following Prohibition’s end.

Judt again: “A history book – assuming its facts are correct – stands or falls by the conviction with which it tells its story. If it rings true to an intelligent, informed reader, then it is a good history book.”

Louisville Beer passes this test. The strength of Kevin Gibson’s narrative lies in his ability to convey the way it felt to drink beer in Louisville at various times in the past. Details valued today mattered less back then. Being a beer drinker in Louisville in the year 1890 was not about checking-in, or chasing, trading and hoarding.

Rather, it likely involved a healthy dollop of ethnic German-ness; came accompanied with a good bit of child-like mystery as to the process; and resulted in prodigious intake in the relative absence of plasticized tap water, smoothies and teeth-corroding “soft” drinks.

It's a good book to go along with the good beer.

THE BEER BEAT: A compendium of local and regional craft beer headlines.

Once upon a time the pace of change in regional brewing circles was fast, but not so rapid as to defy the efforts of an intrepid observer or two to consistently document the phenomenon.

These days, forget about it. As indicated in this collection of headlines, my friend Kevin Gibson is striving mightily to record the local annals of beer and brewing, but I'm sure even he would concede the impossibility of covering all the angles short of being paid full-time money to follow the stories -- and this hasn't happened, at least yet.

Let's play catch-up, beginning in downtown Louisville, where the difficult-to-say-it-three-times-in-a-row Beards and Beers is seeking a package license, according to Caitlin Bowling at Insider Louisville: Beer-serving barbershop looks to add beers to go.

Beards and Beers’ customers are a mix of downtown residents, workers and out-of-town visitors. Many have expressed an interest in being able to bring a few of the craft beers back to their hotel room or home.

Of course, the arrogant bastard of a satisfied Beards and Beers customer pictured at top left is none other than Matthew Belden, known to New Albanians as bartender extraordinaire at Vic's Cafe. Bob and Ben -- if you're reading, we need to get back over there to Vic's for lunch some day.

Staying on the Louisville side for the moment, Gibson (LEO) toasts the departed BBC St. Matthews and offers other news items about Falls City and Cumberland Brews.

Falls City is sharing its homegrown beers around town in other forms, one of those being the recently-launched Neighborhood Series. During 2017, the brewery will release, every two months, a beer inspired by a specific Louisville neighborhood.

The localist in me absolutely adores the idea of the Falls City Neighborhood Series. A few years ago at NABC, I was mulling a similar idea for New Albany (Silver Hills Sour, Cedar Grove Gose) but never got around to fleshing it out. Falls City did, and kudos to them for doing so.

Gibson returns at IL with news of yet another new Louisville brewing startup.

Gravely Brewing Co., set to open in 2017, will be on hallowed ground

When Gravely Brewing Co. opens later this year — owners Nathaniel Gravely and Corey Buenning are shooting for early May — it will mark the end of a long brewing drought in the Phoenix Hill neighborhood. The new brewery-meets-music-venue is situated in a spot that previously was part of Phoenix Brewery, a nationally revered brewery and beer garden that once was a cornerstone of Louisville as not just a brewery but also an event space.

Gibson writes that Gravely Brewing will begin with a 15-barrel system, hot and cold side (with five fermenters), with the distribution effort focusing on draft and 22-ounce bombers. I hope they have better luck with this outside strategy than we did at NABC. Perhaps the ghosts of Phoenix Kentucky Komon will bring good fortune.

In fact, fortune seems to be favoring Kentucky brewers, and here's Gibson yet again with a fine survey of the ongoing boom.

Projections look bright for Kentucky breweries in 2017 and beyond

... “We never had the idea to be a big brewery,” says co-owner Brandon Floan (of Ethereal Brewing). “We always wanted to stay small. We don’t picture ourselves even pushing past the border cities that exist outside of Lexington — it’s not a battle we plan to spend any time on.”

The “battle” he refers to is the limited number of tap handles and limited amount of retail shelf space. With much of this being dictated by distributors, it’s difficult for smaller breweries to fight their way through. This is part of why many won’t bother investing in retail distribution.

My advice, gained from hard personal experience: Make the act crowd-pleasing at home before taking it on the road. Yes, it's old-fashioned, and doesn't lead to quick riches ... but quality simply must come first, or else the riches never will.

It looks like good weather for Tailspin Ale Fest at Bowman Field on Saturday. A sell-out is predicted, and there is a preview by Jenna Esarey in the News and Tribune.

Beer festival takes flight: Nationally known Tailspin Ale Fest has Southern Indiana roots

The event is billed as Louisville’s Winter Warmer Beer Festival, with most beers having an alcohol content of 8 percent or higher. In addition, 75 of the breweries will have brewers on hand.

Speaking of high gravity, the 19th edition of NABC's Gravity Head kicks off at the usual time of 7:00 a.m. on Friday, February 24. I'll probably devote a stand-alone post to this, but for now the beer list is at the Facebook site. The starting lineup was revealed on Wednesday evening, and seems scant at 11 choices -- but it's nothing to do with me, is it?

GRAVITY HEAD 2017 STARTING LINEUP

Cascade The Vine (2015) 9.73%
Dark Horse Barrel Aged Plead the Fifth 12.00%
Dark Horse Bourbon Barrel Scotty Karate 9.75%
Dark Horse Double Crooked Tree (2016) 12.00% * JUST ADDED*
Dark Horse Plead the Fifth (2015) 11.00%
Dark Horse Sapient Trip Ale (2016) 9.50%
Dark Horse Scotty Karate (2014) 9.75%
Dogfish Head Fort 18.00%
North Coast XIX Barrel Aged Old Rasputin 11.20%
Sierra Nevada Bigfoot (2011) 9.60%
Stone Xocoveza 8.10%

Finally, Charlestown Pizza Company's ten-year anniversary celebration takes place on Tuesday, March 7. It so happens that we met friends at CPC just three weeks ago, and it was a stellar evening.

A decade ago, Shawn and Tajana saw the potential for quality pizza and beer in an under-served local market, and they've been rocking it ever since. Now their neck of the (former) woods is experiencing some of the most explosive growth in the state of Indiana. The next ten years are going to be interesting, indeed.

Three cheers for CPC!

THE BEER BEAT: It took a week to get the details straight, but BBC is leaving its current St. Matthews location after 23 years and hopes to reopen elsewhere in Louisville.

There are lessons somewhere in all this, but at the moment I am bereft of glibness. If Jim, Debbie and Blake are reading, thanks; you had it right the first time. 

To revisit the roller coaster of the past week, first the rumorama insisted that January 29 would be the last business day for Bluegrass Brewing Company St. Matthews, but the rest of it was unclear. Next, the Green Mouse received a more nuanced and expansive report, much of which has now come to light (below), to the effect that the January 29 date was incorrect.

Then literally, this report proved to be true; not January 29, but February 5 as the last day for BBC at its longtime Shelbyville Road digs.

Yesterday morning, Insider Louisville's Caitlin Bowling reported about the fast and furious BBC rumors, and subsequently her instincts were proven correct.

Rumors fly about fate of Bluegrass Brewing Company’s St. Matthews restaurant

During the past week, Insider Louisville has received tip after tip from people who say they’ve heard that the Bluegrass Brewing Company plans to close its St. Matthews bar and restaurant.

A few hours later, the floodgates opened. I believe the C-J's Bailey Loosemore was first past the post.

Bluegrass Brewing Co. to leave St. Matthews

Bluegrass Brewing Company is moving from its St. Matthews location after 23 years on Shelbyville Road.

On Friday, co-owner Pat Hagan told the Courier-Journal that the company has agreed to forgo its lease on the brewery's building so that another restaurant can move in. Partners in the new venture were previously involved in Sully's Saloon, a Fourth Street Live! bar and restaurant that closed in 2013 after an 11-year run ...

... Soon, construction will start on a new BBC restaurant in the Kindred Healthcare facility at the corner of Broadway and Fourth Street. And Hagan hopes to find a new building in the East End where he can reopen a taproom and resume retail production.

Business First's David Mann closed Friday with an update.

BBC leaving St. Matthews after 23 years

Bluegrass Brewing Co. is leaving the St. Matthews space it's called home for 23 years. The brewpub, located on Shelbyville Road, near Breckenridge Lane is closing up shop Feb. 5, allowing a new concept to move in to the location.

The area has changed in the more than two decades since BBC opened there, owner Pat Hagan told me in an interview today.

"It's more of a night club area now, which we're not," he said.

So, to recap: Owner Pat Hagan bowed (intelligently, in my view) to leasing and area development realities and now hopes to move BBC to a new location, one that will allow the expansion of brewing into bottling and/or canning. The 3rd Street brewery and restaurant remain open, and the 4th Street branch will reopen when the Kindred building is finished. The coming week will be a victory lap for BBC in St. Matthews, and I hope to make it over and learn the future of my Wort Mug, number 66.

That's the way it is, at least until it changes again. APA, here I come.

ON THE AVENUES: Louisville Beer, then and now ... and cheers to Rotary.

ON THE AVENUES: Louisville Beer, then and now ... and cheers to Rotary.

A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.

Let's take a break from the daily political give and take. I'm booked at the Rotary Club today to speak about beer and brewing, and in recognition of this, here is a reprint of one of my Food & Dining Magazine columns from 2014.

It's a beer book review, and New Albany is to be considered Louisville for the purposes of analysis. Back in 1840, did a New Albanian stop by Hew Ainslie's brewery for a bucket of ale, then carry it down to the river, perhaps throwing out a line, and maybe contemplating the existence of slavery on the opposite river bank?

Probably. Beer does that to a person. If you haven't yet purchased Kevin Gibson's book, be aware that Christmas soon will be coming around again.

---

“Anyone who has groped among the dark beer dungeons which lie for a number of deep streets under Phoenix Hill, would scarcely imagine while in those dark, chilly caves, that far above him the place would grow into such an efflorescence of beauty, fashion and brightness.”

From 1865 until 1919, Phoenix Hill Park was Louisville’s foremost beer garden, except that beer and sausages weren’t the only attractions. The park was a multi-tasking entertainment Mecca (or Munich), boasting a bandstand, bowling alley, dance hall, skating rink and velodrome, and even the fabled Hofbrauhaus itself never managed so many thirst-inducing brand extensions atop its lagering cellars.

For a half century prior to the advent of Prohibition, Louisville was a town of brewing renown, and beer kept pace with bourbon in the popular imagination. It’s true that Prohibition smashed the tablets, but even without the villainy of legislated abstention, beer’s place in local culture would have changed with passing years, as norms brought to the area by German immigrants became exposed to the diffusion of the American melting pot.

It’s a fascinating story, and local writer Kevin Gibson tells it very well in his new book, Louisville Beer: Derby City History on Draft, an account of beer’s rise, fall and resurgence in Louisville.

Gibson writes chronologically, beginning with Louisville’s earliest Anglo-Scottish ale traditions and concluding with today’s local craft beer boom. He detours briefly to consider the brewing process and beer styles, including our indigenous Kentucky Common and the Bock beers that once proliferated in springtime.

Wisely, Gibson does not detour from the beer tale at hand to attempt a detailed examination of the alpha acid content of bittering hops used in pre-Prohibition Pilsner. Rather, he describes the experience of Louisville beer in everyday life, and documents how it has changed over time.

---

In post-Colonial years through the early 1800s, beer generally was of secondary consideration to cider and whisky – until substantial numbers of Germans began coming to this area following the revolutions of 1848. They brought the formative technological underpinnings of lager brewing, which was poised to explode into a worldwide phenomenon.

According to Gibson, this 19th-century German diaspora tended to be more selective and organized than we might assume. Upon reaching their ultimate destinations in America, immigrants were absorbed into full-scale communities. Cultural proclivities included beer as an integral part of daily nutrition and social life, and consequently, some Louisville neighborhoods were as German as the Fatherland itself.

There were dozens of small breweries, and beer was consumed voluminously – at breakfast (soup with stale beer as stock); in the workplace, where “small” beer was preferred to mere water; and at night, when men gathered over platters of pork and dumplings to soothe the rigors of the day.

However, there was another viewpoint. Precisely because these new arrivals enjoyed their tankards, it was a natural next step for “Know Nothing” nativists to orchestrate a backlash, conflating beer with the evils of immigration, and incorporating pre-existing xenophobia into a program of opposition.

When anti-immigrant sentiments merged with fundamentalist Protestantism, finding a ready ally in do-gooder “progressives” groups espousing the imperative of societal improvement, a full-fledged temperance movement was born.

It was Carrie Nation-building: God says drinking is bad, and just look at all those non-English speaking, beer-drinking immigrants taking our jobs; what’s more, if we’d all work sober and harder, we’d be more efficient cogs of capitalism – and that’s the real American religion. Cue hatchets flying, mostly against barroom furniture, but sadly, sometimes aimed at people, too.

The period 1933-1977, between Repeal to Falls City Brewing Company’s closure, is critical, and Gibson does not neglect it.

During the 1930s and 1940s, with Prohibition over and America emerging from World War II as the planet’s economic powerhouse, it seemed that a local brewing renaissance was happening. Fehr’s, Oertel’s and Falls City rose from “near” beer to regional prominence almost overnight. The smaller neighborhood breweries were gone, and Louisville’s Big Three profited.

But it was an illusion. By the mid-1960s, the verdict already was becoming clear: A regional-sized production brewery in a city like Louisville enjoyed preferential economies of scale when compared to the extinct smaller operators, but larger entities higher up the beer chain could commoditize beer even more efficiently than the regionals. The market was about price point, and the higher end didn’t yet exist apart from a handful of imports.

Budweiser and Miller emerged victorious, and Louisville brewing ceased to exist. It didn’t return until 1990, when David Pierce brewed a legal batch of pale ale for the long defunct Charley’s Restaurant on Main Street. Pierce helped open the Silo Brewery in 1992, and manned the brewhouse for Bluegrass Brewing Company from 1993 through 2009. The contemporary brewing era had begun, and is remains vibrant.

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Louisville Beer is especially useful in providing descriptive attention to the two decades elapsing since brewing’s return. What’s more, this section of Gibson’s narrative offers context, and the inescapable conclusion is that the present-day craft constitutes a revolution all its own, rather than a restoration of past glories.

The late Tony Judt had this to say about the historian’s purpose: “You cannot invent or exploit the past for present purposes.” In this sense, although previous epochs of Louisville beer share similarities, they were very different from what craft beer has become.

Impressive annual growth aside, craft brewing in the year 2014 remains a minority-driven, premium-priced, niche phenomenon, not the universal cultural norm of the pre-1900 period, when Louisville brewing was genuinely localized during a time when being a locavore almost was a default condition.

Granted, beer and food came to Louisville from elsewhere in America, as originally conveyed on river boats, and later in railway cars. At times, beer came from very far away; witness a Louisville hotel restaurant menu in 1857 boasting French wines and Guinness Stout from Dublin. Nonetheless, most beer produced by 19th-century Louisville neighborhood breweries was consumed within the same neighborhood.

Furthermore, no Louisville craft brewer today can lay claim to the market hegemony of Fehr’s, Oertel’s and Fall City following Prohibition’s end.

Judt again: “A history book – assuming its facts are correct – stands or falls by the conviction with which it tells its story. If it rings true to an intelligent, informed reader, then it is a good history book.”

Louisville Beer passes this test. The strength of Kevin Gibson’s narrative lies in his ability to convey the way it felt to drink beer in Louisville at various times in the past. Details valued today mattered less back then. Being a beer drinker in Louisville in the year 1890 was not about checking-in, or chasing, trading and hoarding.

Rather, it likely involved a healthy dollop of ethnic German-ness; came accompanied with a good bit of child-like mystery as to the process; and resulted in prodigious intake in the relative absence of plasticized tap water, smoothies and teeth-corroding “soft” drinks.

This Christmas, consider a good book to go along with the good beer.

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Recent columns:

July 9: ON THE AVENUES: A mayoral petition as prologue to history.

July 2: ON THE AVENUES: "Water on the brains: Much less for far more will keep us swimming in it."

June 25: ON THE AVENUES REWOUND: Red scarf, white shirt and San Miguel beer (2012).

June 18: ON THE AVENUES: These 10 definitions will help you speak local politics like a native.

June 11: ON THE AVENUES: This is Dan Coffey, New Albany’s quintessential Democrat.

June 4: ON THE AVENUES: Dan Coffey speaks for Jeff Gahan and the Democratic Party … unless they say otherwise.

In LEO Weekly: “How much craft beer can Louisville consume?”

My comments are included in an instructive LEO Weekly piece by free-lancer Kevin Gibson. For further background, keep tabs on my weekly column at LouisvilleBeer.com

Beer stories and bedtime for gonzo

Is This the World We Created? (was: “My Year in Beer”)

Kevin offers a solid overview.

What’s on tap for Louisville’s beer scene? Can our local breweries handle more competition?, by Kevin Gibson (LEO Weekly)

… Roger Baylor, owner of New Albanian Brewing Company, has been in the business of craft beer for quite a few years; his business model with Rich O’s Public House and Sportstime Pizza hinged on it from the word “go” when those side-by-side concepts launched in 1990. Later, he was the first one in town to eliminate sales of corporate beers like Bud Light. New Albanian as a craft brewing entity was founded in 2002.

“Saturation point depends on the capacity of the new breweries, their level of debt service and what size territory they need to get by,” Baylor explains. “What happens when everyone decides to play the game the same way?”

Amanda Beam's "NEW ALBANY BICENTENNIAL — The history of brewing."

I think it's a fine essay, so go read it ... even if it's somehow too early for a beer.

NEW ALBANY BICENTENNIAL — The history of brewing, by Amanda Beam (N and T)

From revolutionary patriots to drunken frat boys, beer has been the alcoholic beverage of choice for most Americans since before the concept of America even existed.

Like folks today, residents living in New Albany in the early 1800s were no different in their love of cool and frothy ales.

Looking to quench this thirst, breweries sprouted up along the Ohio River to provide locally produced beer to the masses. After more than 170 years and countless attempts to shut down these businesses, some of which were successful, the art of creating beer has returned to New Albany, and with it a history of those who also brewed in the town so long ago.

Today's Tribune column: "I’m having local, please."

A reworked "Wednesday Weekly" (PC blog only) considers local brewing and what is, and is not, truly local.

BAYLOR: I’m having local, please

It all goes back to seeing that bottle of Holsten Pils on the shelf in Budapest in 1989, and wondering how a capitalist German beer from Hamburg was available in communist Hungary at a price only slightly higher than locally brewed Magyar beers, which were dirt cheap at the time.