Good Beer Hunting

West Virginians take a lot of pride in their state. As well they should—it’s one of the most stunningly gorgeous destinations in the United States, albeit one that can be hard to get to, thanks to the same mountainous spectacle that draws people there in the first place.  Matt Kwasniewski is a West Virginia native, as well as the owner and head brewer of Big Timber Brewing in Elkins, West Virginia. It’s the largest craft brewery in the state, with an annual output of around 6,000 barrels last year, positioning them solidly in the “microbrewery” category. He says that West Virginia’s rural location, small population, and generally blue collar workforce makes it an unlikely place for craft beer to thrive. But the state is much more than how it’s defined by outsiders. Kwasniewski has seen the craft beer industry grow from 10 to around 32 breweries in the past 10 years, and for residents, that’s a lot.  In this episode, Kwasniewski walks us through the state of West Virginia, both as a local and as a brewer, and what he wishes more people knew about the relatively undiscovered Mountain State. For instance, they have some of the purest water anywhere in the country—ideal for brewing Big Timber beers like lagers, IPAs, and their award-winning porter that took gold at the 2024 World Beer Cup. He’s not interested in expanding much further than his home state, and why should he? He wants to be the beer of West Virginia, and you can hear him explain why and how he plans to do that.

# On Becoming Hawk Hi there - this is Michael Kiser, founder and publisher of Good Beer Hunting. I’m coming to you today with a difficult message—but a simple one.  Good Beer Hunting—after nearly 15 years, and at least 10 of that that I would consider serious years—is going on a platform-wide sabbatical. It’ll be indefinite. It might be permanent. We have some ideas for what the future of Good Beer Hunting might look like—and soon I’ll be working on that vision with the counsel of my colleagues to see where it takes us. But the earliest vision is so drastically different than what GBH currently is, that the only way to get to the other side is to make a clean break. We’ve got to clear out the cache. We’ve got to quiet everything down for a bit and see what it all sounds like on the other side of that silence. We’re shutting down our various content streams—the podcast, the website, social—ending a sort of always-on feed of content that’s been, for many of us writers, editors, and artists, our life’s work. And for most of us, our best work. This thing that started as my personal blog would go on to be published in the annual Best American Food Writing, and win multiple Saveur blog awards before I had the courage to start publishing other voices beyond my own. It began as a way to pursue my curiosity for beer, combining the beauty I saw in it with the strategic implications of a new wave of culture and industry the world over. Good Beer Hunting came from a simple idea and simpler execution of a blog and grew into an international publication covering unique stories from countries all over. With every major shift, from one editor in chief to another, it would morph into something that felt beyond any reasonable ambition. Eventually winning awards from the Society of Professional Journalists, Imbibe Magazine, more than 100 awards from the North American Guild of Beer Writers, and most recently nominated for 6 James Beard Awards and winning 3 of them. If I consider what it would mean for us to achieve something beyond all that, I’d have to believe in a truly insane fantasy. In the many years of running a beer publication that took us to the top echelon of all publications —literally taking podiums next to the New York Times, Washington Post, and The New Yorker—we’ve had to build and sustain an organization that simply doesn’t have a roadmap for survival in 2024’s media landscape. And to be clear, it never did.  From day one, I vowed to not try and make GBH profitable, because the media world already showed that to achieve profitability was to welcome a certain kind of death—and often a shameful one. Chasing advertisers and clicks with listicles and promotions—and as a result, never creating anything of real value to anyone but the advertisers. It was a fool's errand, and one we didn’t follow. By not hunting down ad revenue and declining offers over the years, Good Beer Hunting was able to remain a personal project in a way, even as our ambitions continually grew and results showed what an impact our stories and contributors made on the world of beer and beyond. Instead of trying to manage our costs with advertising, we’ve been able to form longstanding partnerships with companies like Guinness, which has helped mitigate at least some of financial losses we took on every year. We also launched an experimental subscriber community called the Fervent Few, which took a meaningful chunk out of the debt and paid its dividends by connecting readers and fans from all over the world during the loneliest parts of the pandemic. But in reality, even these things combined didn’t cover the gaps as we continued growing.  The challenge of expanding GBH during its rapid growth phase came from my own pocket, which kept our editorial team independent and in control. But it also guided us to this moment. Paying for writers, designers, and editors was a budget pulled from my own strategic consultancy called Feel Goods Company, which was no small thing. Each year, the costs sometimes crested over $100,000 that weren’t covered by underwriting partners like Guinness or subscribers from the Fervent Few. And in the last couple years, costs went far beyond that. For years, I put other important things in my family’s life on hold to continue supporting GBH’s growth and ambitions.  As a father of three kids—and sometimes the only one working—that decision wasn’t made lightly. I exhausted myself making the consulting business uncommonly successful in order to keep both things afloat and growing. And as costly as that was in a financial sense, I’ve never regretted the decision to do it—and I never took a dime. In fact, there was one year when we more or less broke even, and with the small amount left over we gave the editorial team, including our freelancers, a surprise end-of-year bonus. More like a tip really.  Good Beer Hunting is the longest I’ve ever done anything, and it’s also the best thing I’ve ever done. And it existed entirely because I wanted it to. But outside of anything I wanted it to become—my own pride and ambitions for GBH don’t really compare to the awe I feel when I look at what people like Austin Ray, Claire Bullen, and Bryan Roth helped it become. Our three successive Editors in Chief over those 10 years—each of whom shaped a new generation of Good Beer Hunting into an image that only they could have. Each of whom provided the shoulders for the next to stand on. And the countless writers and artists who were drawn to their leadership and the level of execution in our collective work—who gave us some of their own best work.  I’m thinking of Kyle Kastranec from Ohio, the first writer other than myself, who wrote a feature for GBH, setting a high bar. I’m thinking of Charleston’s own Jamaal Lemon who won a James Beard award for GBH alongside other winners and nominees like Stephanie Grant, Teresa McCullough, Chelsea Carrick, and Mark Dredge.  I’m thinking of people like Matthew Curtis, our first editor in the UK who turned the lights on in an entirely new country for us, and Evan Rail who kept turning on lights in dozens of countries since as our first International editor. Emma Jansen, and Ren Laforme who joined our editors team in the last iteration, rounding out some of the most ambitions and wide sweeping storytelling we’ve ever produced. Kate Bernot, who leveled up our news reporting to create an unmatched source of access to explain to readers why things matter in beer and beverage alcohol, which is now a growing stand-alone business unit in Sightlines. What felt like a fluke at first, has become something I can confidently own. We produced industry-changing, internationally-recognized, and James Beard Award winning material…consistently. I’m also often reminded of the smaller things we’ve done—like the blogs and short stories we wrote—about the politics and personal traumas of the way we eat, drink, and relate to each other in our families, in our communities, and against the injustices so many people face in an industry that’s ancient and profoundly immature at the same time. It’s an unlikely place for a beer publication to have a voice —but GBH has always built its scope around the perspectives of the individual souls who occupy space within it rather than narrowing down a profitable and popular slice of the beer conversation and reduced them to it.  Mark Spence unpacked his Midwestern anxieties around family and food, Lily Waite and Holly Regan opened a door to discuss non-binary and transgender issues,  Jerard Fagerberg and Mark LaFaro took big risks to focus us all on the dangers and costs of alcoholism, David Jesudason and many others captured our attention with stories of harassment, racism, labor abuse, and more that so many readers told us were critical and prescient and more importantly, helped. These stories helped people. Over the years, we’ve had readers cry as they recounted what a story meant to them. We’ve had others scream and curse at us for the same. Some even went on the record as sources to ensure our reporting had the substance it needed to make an impact. Careers were started and ended because of the stories we wrote. Those stories had the same effect on ourselves. We’ve had writers put something heartbreaking or inspiring into the world only to have it wake something up in them and want to do more—take even bigger swings —and find a voice within them that carried them far beyond Good Beer Hunting. And ultimately, that’s where my heart is today. This week, I was struggling to find the words to describe what I was going to do with Good Beer Hunting—what comes next. I knew what the move was, and why, and I knew it was time—but I didn’t have the poetry for it—so I couldn’t quite feel it yet. 

On a long drive to rural Michigan to pick up my son from summer camp, I was listening to an episode of my favorite podcast, On Being. And I heard Azita Ardakani and Janine Benyus, two biomimicry specialists who have a way of describing the natural world with a stunning relevance. They said:  “Life is just so full of vitality and so much ON and being alive and then it’s not.” “…What is the difference between something that’s alive and something that’s not? It seems that with the holding on to life —there’s also a feeling of once it’s gone, the letting go—like a body breaking down—but it doesn’t really. I mean, not for long. What happens is a tree falls and eventually becomes a log. Eventually grows a fungus and you think of it as breaking down—it is no longer a tree. But then a mouse comes along and it's the end of the fungus. And that material—thats’ where the reincarnation comes in —that fungus becomes mouse.  “And then a hawk comes along and the material—that material of that mouse becomes hawk. There’s this circulation—called metabolism. It’s catabolism—then it gets anabolized up into a new form. The grief is brief because transformation happens almost right away—it gets transformed.” Now, GBH isn’t dying a

The definition of “local” can be quite different when the nearest urban regions are hundreds of miles away. That’s certainly the case in Jackson, Wyoming, where (quote-unquote) neighboring cities like Boise, Idaho; Denver, Colorado; and Bozeman, Montana all require a few hours in the car, if not on a plane, to get there. But it’s precisely that sense of remote grandeur that attracts millions of visitors to the Jackson Hole region every year. Where do they go when they want a good, local, craft brew? To Snake River Brewing Company, of course, which is the oldest operating brewery in the state and celebrates 30 years in business in 2024. In this episode, Snake River’s director of sales and marketing, Luke Bauer, describes what brought him to Wyoming nearly 20 years ago, and what kept him coming back after working in Texas, Alaska, and Colorado. In addition to his role at Snake River, he’s also on the board of the Wyoming Craft Brewers Guild, and shares a first-hand account of how the state’s craft beer industry has grown, changed, and evolved, especially post-pandemic. By his account, Wyoming is a unique place, but also one that’s full of surprises. He believes there’s a lot more experimentation than outsiders might initially expect from the local beer scene, and explains the big differences in style from one side of the state to the other. (Hint: one side sticks more to traditional or maltier beers, while the other embraces trendier styles like IPAs.) Snake River Brewing has managed to rack up awards at the World Beer Cup, including their most recent Bronze medal for Zonker Stout, as well as at the Great American Beer Festival, and many more over its 30-year tenure. It goes back to their mission statement: “The world doesn’t need another beer, but a better beer.” Let’s hear about the beer and beyond.  

We’re squarely in the midst of political season—presidential debates have begun, campaigning has kicked into high gear, and November elections are closer than we think. Amongst it all, there’s an adage this episode’s guest once shared that likely sounds true, whether your a deep-in-the-weeds politico or fair-weather voter: If you want to make the biggest impact in politics, you go into business. Well over a decade ago, Jon Renthrope did just that, opening up Cajun Fire Brewing in his hometown of New Orleans. Enticed by what he found in the world of homebrewing, Jon took a degree in politics from the University of Florida and spun it into a career in beer, which led to the launch of his brewery 12 years ago. And it’s through his company he’s working to marry the ideas of community impact with work through local organizations like The 100 Black Men of Metro New Orleans, as a cultural ambassador, and by working with the National Black Brewers Association. In this conversation, you’ll hear Jon talk about what it means to start Cajun Fire in the place he grew up and deepen already strong roots. He’ll share how he’s been influenced by family—notably his grandmother—and how that history lingers today. We also discuss his brewery’s lineup of beer and why you won’t find an IPA leading the way among Cajun Fire customers. Jon didn’t go into politics, exactly, but he is using his business in all kinds of ways to connect and impact people around him.  

It's easy to find examples of what success in entrepreneurship looks like. There are dozens of TV shows, thousands of books, and millions of blog posts that are meant to share tips, secrets, and let us into the minds of people who've made it in all kinds of business. But the fact of the matter is that the only ones who can truly understand what it's like—the many failures that typically come with a breakout win—are the people who've taken a leap of faith without any idea of how their attempt to launch a product or start a business will turn out. You're as likely to be built up as broken down on this journey. In this episode, we spend a lot of time talking about entrepreneurship with my friend, Kristen Sumpter, who co-founded bar and bottleshop Red’s Beer Garden with her husband, Ed. We’ve gotten to know each other through a group she co-founded with past podcast guest Sara Kazmer, which includes several women entrepreneurs who live in the Atlanta area. For almost two years, I've listened as Kristen has shared the waves of triumphs and tribulations of building a beloved local hangout. In our conversation, we explore Kristen's journey from that initial spark of inspiration to the day-to-day realities of running a successful business. You’ll hear her talk about the importance of community, embracing vulnerability, and prioritizing self-care amidst the entrepreneurial hustle. Kristen also shares how she’s able to show up as her authentic self on Instagram and how long she’s been obsessed with hot dogs, a staple of the food menu at Red’s.

Thunderpussy is a band that elicits an immediate, visceral reaction. Even their NSFW name is unapologetic, brash, and controversial, and that’s exactly how they like it. The Seattle-based rock band launched in 2014 with founding members Whitney Petty on guitar and Molly Sides on vocals, and today, their all-women lineup also includes bassist Leah Julius and drummers Lindsey Elias and Michelle Nuno. We have Whitney with us on the podcast to talk about the band’s origins and journey over the past 10 years, which culminated with a collaborative release with Yonder Cider. Caitlin Braam is the founder and CEO of Yonder Cider and The Source, Yonder’s sister company that provides custom pressing, juicing, and fermenting solutions for cideries around the United States. She joins Whitney to talk about Yonder’s first collaboration with a band—what they expected, what surprised them, and how the whole thing shook out. Thunderpussy happens to be the favorite band of Yonder’s head cider maker, Monique Tribble, and the release was an opportunity for everyone to fangirl out on one another with delicious results.  You’ll hear about how both women-led groups have strategically avoided dealing with male energy in their often overpoweringly masculine fields of music and alcohol, and how even acknowledging that aspect has changed over the years. Whitney shares her excitement to dive deeper into the world of cider, and echoes the same joy that I think a lot of new cider drinkers are surprised to find once they give it a chance. I wouldn’t listen to this conversation with kids in the room, so grab some headphones, and maybe a cider, and listen in.  

What a long, strange trip it’s been for the Miramar brewing facility that once housed Ballast Point and, after changing hands more than a few times, is now the centerpiece of West Coast brewing operations for Athletic Brewing Company. In this episode of the Gist, lead Sightlines news reporter Kate Bernot joins me, Beth Demmon, to talk about the United States’ 10th largest craft brewery’s plans both here and abroad, as well as inflation’s lingering hold on on-premise brewery sales and the business side of celebrity alcohol investments. 

There’s something special about when talent, vision, and respect are all wrapped up in a relationship. These attributes can provide people deeper meaning and drive which make dreams more attainable. Accomplishing a goal can be daunting on your own, but when you have partners who push you to be better—and complement each other in meaningful ways—that’s when whole new opportunities can come to life. These ideas are at the core of this conversation with three co-founders of Kansas City’s Vine Street Brewing. The business earned national attention last year as Missouri’s first-ever black-owned brewery and from day one has backed it up with beloved beer and offering a space that quickly became a new and exciting part of the city’s downtown life. Located in the historic Jazz District of Kansas City, you’ll find all kinds of community connections stemming from the brewery, from beer collaborations, to music and film events, and more. Joining me to talk about what this means are Kemet Coleman, Elliott Ivory, and Woodie Bonds Jr. Each has taken different paths to this moment, but their shared connection—whether it be brewing backgrounds with Woodie and Elliott or Kemet’s ability to bring people together—has allowed Vine Street to not just grow in its first year, but become a celebrated part of the Kansas City beer scene. What you’ll hear from them offers a lot of tangible examples of what it looks like when talent, vision, and respect turn into something you can see, feel, and taste. And as the trio prepares for their second year in business, these things also offer them plenty to reflect on and use as motivation for Vine Street’s future.  

Listeners of The Gist know we’re all about the stats. But today, we’re dishing out numbers with narrative, from Anchor Brewing's out-of-nowhere yogurt angel to speculation about a potential Boston Beer Company sale and wine’s latest numbers and what they really mean. I’m Beth Demmon with Kate Bernot, and this is The Gist. 

So much has changed in craft beer since I became a fan more than a decade ago. One of the most intriguing things I’ve noticed as someone who loves being in taprooms is how many new breweries are moving away from the industrial look that was once ubiquitous in craft beer. For me, the shift represents a second wave, a move towards standing out instead of running with the pack.  In this episode, we talk to Nicole Oesch, co-owner of Kismetic Beer Company, a brewery that looks more like a swanky cocktail bar than a taproom, to learn what made her want to differentiate her brewery from everyone else. Where did she get the idea for building a space with jewel-tone shades of purple and turquoise, leather wrapped booths, and geometric artwork decking the walls? You’ll hear Nicole talk about how she focuses on comfort and beauty and how it makes it unique in a crowded market, offering customers something that other breweries in the area might not. She shares the importance of going beyond making great beer and how she used her own personal preferences to build an authentic brand that connects with local beer drinkers and engages with people outside of beer’s usual scope. Nicole also talks about how one of those personal preferences—drinking low ABV beers—led Kismetic to brew with tea, which helps them reduce sugar, and as a result alcohol, without impacting the final taste of their product.   

“The thicker, the better” sounds like something I would say about my thighs, but not necessarily about beer. But that’s exactly how Woven Water Brewing Company describes their infamous “fusion” concoctions, which are smoothie-style sours with flavors like peanut butter and jelly, banana split, and peach orange pop ice cream. That’s not all they brew, but this type of eye-catching beverage is what has put the Tampa brewery on the map and what owners Jay and Ciara Jones say keep them in business. In this episode, I chat with both owners, who launched the brewery with Nicole and Eric Childs in August 2020, and have since assumed complete ownership. You’ll hear them describe their “adapt or die” mentality, and why despite Jay’s initial reluctance to brew what some might call “hype” beers or hard seltzers, they quickly realized it’s what people want to drink, so why not give it to them? It’s a refreshingly pragmatic approach to business, and they’re having fun with it, even hosting a tap takeover of the gloopiest, gloppiest beers from around the country in a celebration they call Gloop City, which is now in its third year.  But all silliness aside, this conversation is a look at a brewery that was poised to launch at the start of the pandemic, and what they had to do and change in order to open in what they believe is the best craft beer scene in the country. They share what worked, what didn’t, what they would do differently if they had to do it all over again, and what they hope to accomplish in the future. Jay and Ciara say they’re investing in a few key areas: their people, their community, and in their ability to grow and change. That sounds like a solid plan to me. So, let’s hear about it, right now.  

It’s almost summertime, and the living’s easy, especially if you’re a beer brand heading into the biggest sales season of the year. In this episode of The Gist, Sightlines reporter Kate Bernot shares her insights into a few ways taprooms and breweries are attracting people back on-premise, plus a sneak peek at some upcoming Sightlines reporting about events, sales, packaging, and much more. We also discuss Bud Light’s boycott comeback and what the numbers show, plus Gallo’s expansion from wine to beer and RTDs in a quest for total beverage presence. I’m Beth Demmon, and you’re listening to The Gist. 

If you're a beer fan, it's likely you know about the core ingredients in every recipe: hops, malt, water, yeast. Even if you're not an enthusiast, you may have at least heard about a hop varietal every now and then. But it's that last item—the yeast—that is getting renewed and extraordinary scientific interest as companies forge into a new frontier of fermentation. In this episode, we're joined by the three founding members of Berkeley Yeast, all scientists who came together with the goal of pushing the microorganisms to new levels in order to create new flavors in beer. Whether it's recreating the taste of hops or adding nuances of fruit—the kind of yeast this company is making has the ability to not just alter our beer, but our perception of what's possible in the brewing process. One brewer from San Francisco's Cellarmaker Brewing once said that Berkeley Yeast is "messing around at a level that’s just so far beyond what anyone else is doing," while another from Monterey's Alvarado Street Brewery said once that “It’s mind-boggling how these flavors could be created with no fruit.” Joining me to talk about it all are Rachel Li, Charles Denby, and Nick Harris, who launched their startup from origins at UC Berkeley and in recent years have rapidly become a trusted source for brewers around the country looking to push the boundaries of what their fermentations can do. We'll hear about how and why they started the company, the kinds of yeast they're creating, and most importantly, why now is the moment this is all happening and changing the minds of brewers. Because your taste buds are next.

Some people know early on they’re destined to be their own boss. Rachael Hudson is one of these people. She’s the co-owner and head brewer at Pilot Brewing Company in Charlotte, North Carolina, a small brewery that’s made big waves in her local scene and beyond since opening in 2018. Since then, the business has racked up accolades at the Great American Beer Festival, the US Open Beer Championship, and the North Carolina Brewers Cup Competition, including being named North Carolina Brewery of the Year for 2023. But for as nice as the awards are, Rachael says opening a brewery isn’t about fame (and it’s definitely not about money). It’s more about being an outlet for her ability and desire to teach curious consumers about what it is they’re consuming. She’s an Advanced Cicerone who plans to take the Master exam again later this year, as well as a national and international beer judge and co-host of the False Bottomed Girls podcast with Master Cicerone Jen Blair. Needless to say, she knows what she’s talking about, and she’s passionate about sharing her knowledge with absolutely anyone who will listen. In this episode, Rachael shares when and how she knew she had to go into business for herself and why education is such a critical part of what Pilot offers to the community. She also talks about her “less is more” mentality when it comes to recipe development, and how their ESB tends to outshine even their IPAs. Pilot probably isn’t going to get much bigger, but that’s not what Rachael wants anyway. She’d rather focus on perfecting what they put out and keep figuring out ways to show other people that they too can turn their passion into a profession.  

Spring hasn’t sprung for craft beer yet this year. It’s more like a belly flop into a deflating pool filled with the ghosts of profitable years of yore and future hopes for a better summer. But rather than languish in low numbers, beverage alcohol companies big and small are dabbling in new products, new segments, and really anything they can to stay afloat. In this episode of The Gist, I’m joined as always by Sightlines reporter Kate Bernot to talk about first quarter numbers for 2024, innovation across segments, and what BrewDog may be up to after CEO James Watt stepped down as CEO. I’m Beth Demmon, and you’re listening to The Gist.  TG-014 The One with the Spring Slump