Beer Gardens, History, International, Social Drinking, Third Places

Kembridž: Košice’s Great Good Place

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Earlier this month, I spent five days in Košice, Slovakia, where I participated in a summer institute hosted by the Technical University of Košice. The institute brought together 27 graduate students from across Europe to explore and develop solutions to some of the most pressing challenges facing contemporary cities. This was my third year taking part in the Institute, whose theme this year was “Home: The X-Factor in Future Cities.” As part of my contribution, I delivered a presentation on third places—informal gathering spaces such as cafés, pubs, and community hubs—and their role as a “home away from home” in fostering social connection, belonging, and urban vitality.

Talking about the importance of third places to urban vitality to graduate students in Košice

As this was my third visit to Košice in three years, I was already somewhat familiar with the city, particularly its Old Town, which was just a short walk from my hotel. Dating back to the medieval period, the historic center serves as the heart of modern Košice, its pedestrian streets, cafés, restaurants, and public spaces creating a vibrant atmosphere that attracts both residents and visitors. In my previous visits, I have also discovered several excellent pubs in the Old Town, and re-visiting them is something to which I look forward.

The Old Town in Kosice

One of my favorite places to enjoy a beer in Košice is Kembridž Pub—its name being the Slovakized version of “Cambridge.” Kembridž has grown to be one of the city’s most popular places since it opened in 1963. With its spacious beer garden and relaxed atmosphere, it serves as a gathering place for people from all walks of life, who come to share a beer, catch up with friends, and enjoy the unique sense of community that has defined the pub for generations.

The Kembridž Pub with its beer garden is a favorite place for locals to gather

Indeed, it is the diversity of its clientele that makes Kembridž such a fascinating place. As one writer observed, “Students, pensioners, artists, and intellectuals meet there. Over beer, they debate everything and nothing.” It is this eclectic mix of people and conversations that has helped transform Kembridž from a simple pub into one of Košice’s most enduring social institutions.

My friend and Košice resident, Peter Škripko, describes the Kembeidž as follows:

“Kembeidž is the only beer pub in Košice that has preserved the authentic spirit of what a traditional pub used to be. It’s a place where a university professor, a factory worker, and a highly successful lawyer earning a fortune can all sit together at the same table, sharing a beer and a conversation as equals.”

The site on which Kembridž stands today has a fascinating history. Originally, it was the location of a military swimming pool associated with the Košice Cadet Academy (Kadetka), a Hungarian military academy established in 1856 during the Austro-Hungarian era. Beginning in 1881, the pool was opened to the public and became a popular recreational spot for local residents. Even today, some older Košice residents still refer to the area as “úszoda”—the Hungarian word for “swimming pool”—because – because they remember spending their childhood summers there. During the 1950s, the military gradually lost interest in maintaining the facility, and by the end of the decade the swimming pool had disappeared.

In the years that followed, the site was transformed into a public green space and eventually evolved into the legendary Kembridž pub and beer garden, one of Košice’s most beloved social gathering places. It is an excellent example of what the urban sociologist, Ray Oldenburg, calls a “third place.”

In his book, The Great Good Place, Oldenburg identified several defining characteristics of third places—settings that exist beyond home (the first place) and work (the second place). According to Oldenburg, successful third places are informal gathering spaces where people can come and go freely, without obligations or social pressures. They are inclusive environments that welcome people from all backgrounds and encourage interaction among diverse groups.

Third places are typically located within or near residential neighborhoods, making them easily accessible, often by foot. They tend to be modest and unpretentious rather than overly formal or exclusive. A hallmark of these spaces is the presence of regular patrons who visit frequently and develop a strong sense of attachment and belonging.

Most importantly, third places foster social connection. Conversation serves as the primary activity, with friendly banter, humor, and lighthearted interaction creating a relaxed and enjoyable atmosphere. In this way, third places help build community, strengthen social ties, and provide a setting where people can connect with others outside of their home and workplace.

Others have described third places in terms that are similar to Oldenburg’s, though often with more vivid imagery. Michael Hickey refers to them as the “living room of society,” emphasizing their role as comfortable, welcoming spaces where people gather, relax, and build social connections. Leo Jeffres and his colleagues, meanwhile, describe third places as “centers of community,” highlighting their importance as venues where civic life, social interaction, and a sense of belonging are cultivated.

Enjoying a beer with colleagues at the Kembridž

By either description, Kembridž clearly qualifies. It comes as close to meeting Oldenburg’s criteria for a third place as any establishment I have ever frequented. It is a welcoming, unpretentious gathering place where people from different walks of life come together, form and maintain friendships, and let conversation flow freely. More than simply a pub, Kembridž has long served as a social anchor for its patrons—a true living room of society and a genuine center of community. The afternoon I visited, the beer garden was quiet. A small group of older gentlemen sat together beneath the shade of the overhanging trees, escaping the scorching summer heat and lingering over their drinks. Nearby, a young couple relaxed with their baby, adding to the calm, unhurried atmosphere that made the space feel welcoming and distinctly local. Whether bustling with activity or enjoying a quieter moment, Kembridž is a wonderful place for people-watching, offering the perfect vantage point from which to observe the ebb and flow of everyday life.

Should your travels ever take you to Košice, don’t miss Kembridž. Settle in with a beer, stay awhile, and enjoy one of the city’s great pleasures: watching people come together to talk, laugh, and share each other’s company. In a world that often moves too fast, Kembridž remains a place where community still matters

International, Local Beer, Small Breweries

Beyond Pilsener: Exploring Ecuador’s Emerging Craft Beer Scene

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Earlier this month, I had the opportunity to visit Quito, Ecuador, to attend the 15th World Congress of the Regional Science Association International (RSAI). During the conference, I delivered two presentations, including one that examined adaptive reuse practices within the American craft brewing industry.

Ecuador was the fourth Latin American country I had visited, having already spent time in Brazil (Sao Paulo), Chile (Santiago and Valparaiso), and Mexico (Mexico City). Getting there was relatively straightforward – a flight from Detroit to Atlanta, where I made my connection for the approximately 5-hour flight to Quito. Usually when I fly that kind of distance, it involves traversing multiple time zones. But as Quito is south-southeast of Detroit, the time difference is only one hour.

From a geographer’s perspective, Quito is a fascinating city. Nestled high in the Andes Mountains, the city sits at an elevation of 9,350 feet (2,850 meters) above sea level. Its dramatic setting and high altitude made it unlike any other city I had visited. While elevations such as these can cause altitude sickness in some visitors, I was fortunate to experience only mild effects. The most noticeable was a shortness of breath during the 15- to 20-minute walk between my hotel and the conference venue, a constant reminder of just how high above sea level I was.

Quito sits at an elevation of 9,350 feet (2,850 meters) above sea level.

Quito is also just a few miles south of the Equator. It was about 16 miles (26 kilometers) from my central city hotel. Of course, I had to visit, so on the final afternoon of the conference, three colleagues and I took a taxi there.

Straddling the Equator just outside of Quito

But what about beer? What is happening in Ecuador with respect to this much-loved beverage? The Ecuadorian beer market is highly concentrated, with just five brewing companies accounting for approximately 95% of total beer sales. Cervecería Nacional, a subsidiary of AB InBev and the world’s largest brewing company, is the market leader and producer of Ecuador’s best-selling beer, Pilsener. The company’s strongest competitor is Heineken Ecuador, which has steadily expanded its market presence recently through aggressive marketing and distribution strategies. Beer consumption in Ecuador is overwhelmingly dominated by lager, which accounts for roughly 85% of all beer consumed. As in many other countries, consumers are increasingly choosing non-alcoholic beer.

I enjoyed quite a few Pilseners, Ecuador’s best-selling beer, while in Quito

Since the early 2000s, craft beer has grown steadily in popularity in Ecuador, although it still accounts for only about 1% of the national beer market. The country is now home to more than 100 craft breweries, and in 2014 brewers formed the Asociación de Cervecerías Artesanales del Ecuador (ASOCERV) to promote and strengthen the sector. Like the American craft beer industry, Ecuador’s craft brewing community has a strong spirit of collaboration. Brewers frequently support one another – for example by lending hops to a neighboring brewery while it awaits a new shipment – reflecting a cooperative culture that has helped fuel the industry’s growth.

Given the relatively small size of Ecuador’s craft beer market, I expected craft beer to be difficult to find during my visit to Quito. Much to my surprise, the opposite was true. My hotel offered several craft beer options, and nearly every bar I visited included locally brewed craft beer on its menu. From my experience it was clear to me that craft beer has established a visible presence in the city’s drinking culture.

Craft beer in Quito was more ubiquitous than I had anticipated. Here I am enjoying an Ecuadoran craft beer with my friend and colleague Bruce at a bar/cafe

A brewery whose beers I particularly enjoyed was Amerik (pronounced Amerikah). One afternoon, a few colleagues and I were wandering through Quito’s historic center when the skies suddenly opened and a torrential downpour sent us scrambling for cover. Instead of just waiting for the storm to pass, we decided to find a place to enjoy a good local beer. After several unsuccessful attempts, a helpful local pointed us toward the Viajero Quito Hostel, home to the small but highly regarded Amerik Brewery. It turned out to be one of the best beer discoveries of our trip.

Established shortly before the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic by Oscar Artundva and Gina Valera, Amerik is a true nano-brewery. In addition to serving its beers on draft, the brewery produces a small number of hand-bottled releases, with each bottle capped manually. Amerika’s portfolio consists of five beers – a Belgian Blonde, IPA, Oatmeal Stout, Porter, and Red Ale. The quality of its beer has been recognized nationally, with both the Belgian Blonde and Oatmeal Stout earning Bronze and gold medals, respectively, at the Copa Cervecera Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World Beer Cup), Ecuador’s premier craft beer competition.

Four of Amerik’s beer were on draft when I visited the Viajero Quito Hostel

As my visit to Quito demonstrated, Ecuador offers much more than its spectacular geography and rich cultural heritage. Although the country’s beer market remains dominated by a handful of large breweries and traditional lagers, a vibrant craft beer scene has emerged and is steadily gaining recognition. What impressed me most was not just the beer’s quality but also the brewers’ enthusiasm and creativity in shaping this young industry. Breweries such as Amerik show that excellent beer can be produced on a very small scale, driven by passion, craftsmanship, and a commitment to quality.

For me, the trip was a reminder that one of the joys of traveling is discovering local beer cultures and the stories behind them. From drinking a cold Pilsener while adjusting to Quito’s high altitude to stumbling upon a nano-brewery during a torrential Andean downpour, Ecuador provided a memorable blend of professional engagement, geographic exploration, and beer discovery. It may not yet rank among the world’s major craft beer destinations, but based on what I experienced in Quito, it is certainly a country worth watching – and one I would happily visit again, both as a geographer and as a beer enthusiast.

History, International

What Lies Beneath: The Hidden Art of Beer Steins

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Last month, I had the chance to visit Schedel Arboretum & Gardens in Elmore, Ohio, about 21 miles southeast of Toledo. Now operated by the nonprofit Schedel Foundation, the 17-acre estate was once the home of Joe and Marie Schedel. Passionate travelers, the Schedels visited more than 120 countries and, along the way, assembled remarkable collections of art, antiques, jewelry, carved jade, archaic bronze, and – perhaps most notably – plants.

The beautiful Schedel Arboretum & Gardens in Elmore, OH

In addition to its beautifully landscaped arboretum and gardens, the property is also home to the Blair Museum of Lithophanes. Founded by Toledo native Laurel Gotshall Blair (1909–1993), an avid traveler much like the Schedels, the museum houses what became the world’s largest collection of lithophanes, with more than 3,000 pieces.

The term lithophane, derived from the Greek words litho (stone) and phainein (to make visible), refers to a three-dimensional translucent porcelain plaque that reveals detailed images when illuminated from behind. These plaques, produced in a variety of shapes – including rectangular, square, and oval – have been used for decorative and functional purposes such as candle screens, table panels, lamp shades, and night lights. Lithophanes originated in early 19th century Europe, with French diplomat Baron Paul de Bourgoin generally credited for developing the modern production technique, which he patented in 1827.

Candle shield lithophane

Lithophanes were rarely the work of a single, well-known artist in the modern sense. Instead, they were typically produced by teams of skilled- though largely anonymous – engravers and porcelain craftsmen working within major European factories. While lithophanes were made across several countries, Germany quickly emerged as the dominant center of production, led by the Königliche Porzellan‑Manufaktur (KPM) in Berlin, the most influential producer of the 19th century.

As I browsed the collection of lithophanes, I was surprised to find several beer steins with lithophanes embedded in their bases. Although I had encountered many steins before – often in antique shops – I had never seen one featuring this distinctive element. Before examining the connection between lithophanes and beer steins, however, it is useful to begin with a brief overview of the steins themselves.

One of the beer steins on display in the Blair Museum of Lithophanes
A lithophane at the bottom of one of the beer steins at the Blair Museum of Lithophanes

The term stein is a shortened form of the German word Steinzeugkrug, meaning a stoneware jug or tankard. Over time, however, this term became associated with a distinctive style of drinking vessel. What distinguishes beer steins from other drinking vessels is their design, which typically includes both a handle and a hinged lid. Their development is linked to the public health measures that followed the bubonic plague, which killed millions of Europeans in the 14th century. Because the disease was spread by fleas carried by rodents, authorities in parts of what is now Germany introduced hygiene regulations requiring that food and drink containers be covered- leading to the characteristic lidded design of the beer stein. During this same period – specifically in 1516 – the Reinheitsgebot, or Bavarian Purity Law, was enacted. This regulation limited the ingredients of beer to just three: water, barley, and hops, with the goal of preventing the use of harmful or potentially toxic additives.

The incorporation of lithophanes into beer steins dates to the late nineteenth century, when advances in porcelain manufacturing made increasingly sophisticated decorative techniques possible. By this period, lithophanes had become especially common in regimental (military) steins, which were often commissioned by soldiers as commemorative pieces marking their service. The images themselves varied widely. Many were playful – or even risqué – featuring nude figures or couples in suggestive poses, while others were more sentimental, depicting domestic scenes such as a sweetheart reading a letter or convivial moments in a tavern. Today, these steins are highly valued by collectors, with authentic pre‑1914 regimental examples typically commanding prices in the range of $300 to $1,200.

In the end, what made the visit so memorable was not just the scale of the Blair Museum’s collection, but the way it revealed connections between art, beer, and everyday life. The lithophanes embedded in these beer steins – hidden from view until the beer is consumed – offer a fitting metaphor for the experience itself: unexpected details emerging only when one looks a little closer. What might at first seem like a simple object becomes a window into nineteenth‑century technology, aesthetics, and social customs. Set within the tranquil setting of the Schedel Arboretum & Gardens, the museum serves as a reminder that even in quiet corners of northwest Ohio, one can encounter artifacts that illuminate a much broader cultural and historical landscape.

History, Taverns, Third Places

The Tavern Reborn: Rediscovering America’s Original Third Place

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Content Warning: This blog entry includes language and terminology that may be considered offensive by contemporary standards. Such language is presented in its historical context and reflects the norms of the period discussed, not the values of the author.

In February of this year, The Wall Street Journal ran a story on the revival of what was once a quintessential cornerstone of American life: the tavern. Neither a bar nor a restaurant, the tavern occupies what the Journal characterizes as a “gray area” between the two.

The term itself has deep historical roots, deriving from the thirteenth-century French taverne, which in turn comes from the Latin taberna, meaning a shop, stall, or inn. As an institution, the tavern is even older. Archaeological evidence traces its origins to ancient Mesopotamia, where an open-air tavern dating to around 2700 BC has been uncovered. Taverns were also common in ancient Greece and Rome, later becoming a familiar feature of medieval Europe. When European colonists arrived in North America, the tavern quickly took hold there as well, becoming an integral part of early American life.

In colonial America, taverns were places where the community gathered to play games, enjoy entertainment, share news, argue politics, and linger over a beer. Organized activities were a feature at most taverns. These included “dancing, fistfights, and shooting at random indoor targets“, as well as cockfighting. Activities such as these helped define taverns as “places where ordinary people could participate in extraordinary activities.” In many ways, colonial taverns embodied what urban sociologist Ray Oldenburg calls a Third Place – a community gathering spot beyond home and work.

In addition to locals, taverns were equally vital to travelers, serving as places where one could find a bed for the night and food to sustain the journey. They also served as venues for official business; it was not uncommon for both lower and superior court sessions to be held there – the former handling minor criminal offenses and small civil disputes, and the latter addressing more serious criminal cases and larger civil matters.

These early Colonial taverns were called “ordinaries.” They were given this name because they were required to have an annual license called an Ordinary Bond, and the issuing authority had the power to set the price charged for goods and services such as meals and lodging.

The first tavern in colonial America was opened by a Thomas Cole in Boston, MA, on March 4, 1634. Such was the importance of taverns to colonial life that they were among the first to be built when a new settlement was being established.

In her excellent book on the history of taverns, saloons, speakeasies, and grog shops, Christine Sismondo quotes a letter written by Sir Captain John Walduck to his nephew in 1708. It states:

“Upon all the new settlements the Spaniards make, the first thing they
do is build a church, the first thing ye Dutch do upon a new colony is to
build them a fort, but the first thing ye English do, be it in the most
remote part of ye world, or amongst the most barbarous Indians, is to
set up a tavern or drinking house.”

In some cases, the urgency to establish a tavern may have been driven by the threat of financial penalty. In 1656, the General Court of Massachusetts made towns liable to a fine if they failed to maintain a tavern. This policy reflected both a desire to exert oversight over the sale of alcohol and a practical need to provide weary travelers with food and rest. To encourage compliance with this law, many communities offered inducements such as land grants, pasture rights for livestock, or exemptions from school and church taxes to prospective tavern keepers. This carrot-and-stick approach meant that taverns were ubiquitous and plentiful throughout colonial America.

The most popular drinks in colonial taverns were rum, flip, and punch. But what exactly was flip? In Stage-Coach and Tavern Days, Alice Morse Earle offers the following description:

“American flip was made in a great pewter mug or earthen pitcher filled two-thirds full of strong beer; sweetened with sugar, molasses, or dried pumpkin, according to individual taste or capabilities; and flavored with “a dash” – about a gill – of New England rum. Into this mixture was thrust and stirred a red-hot loggerhead, made of iron and shaped like a poker, and the seething iron made the liquor foam and bubble and mantle high, and gave it the burnt, bitter taste so dearly loved.“

The practice of inserting a red-hot poker into a flip probably has its roots in the 15th-century German tradition of Bierstacheln (“beer spike”). Initially used to warm cold Lagers to a more drinkable temperature, the technique later evolved as a way to caramelize the sugars in darker, malt-forward beers. This process produces a smoother, creamier texture while enhancing flavors and aromas such as caramel and toffee.

The beer consumed by colonial settlers was primarily ale, reflecting the brewing traditions of Great Britain, where ale dominated production and consumption. These ales were either imported or brewed locally in homes and taverns throughout the colonies. Lager beer – and the bottom‑fermenting yeast required to produce it – did not arrive in the United States until the 1840s, when German immigrants introduced new brewing techniques.

With the passage of time, the role of the American tavern changed significantly. As independent hotels and restaurants expanded, taverns gradually lost their broader social and lodging functions, becoming primarily establishments for the sale of alcohol. With this transition, the term “tavern” came to be used interchangeably with “alehouse” or “bar.” In his 1952 study of taverns in Dane County, WI, the sociologist Boyd E. Macrory defined a tavern as “any establishment whose business consists largely of selling and serving intoxicating liquors and/or beer for consumption on the premises.” Despite this narrowing of their function, they remained important gathering spots. Writing as recently as 1982, Ray Oldenburg and Dennis Brisset noted that “the tavern, or bar, is without doubt the dominant third place in our society” (Oldenburg and Brisset 1982, 269).

In the Wall Street Journal article, Joshua Stein describes a modern tavern as a hybrid space that blends elements of both bar and restaurant. His examples – such as the Sergeantsville Inn in Sergeantsville, New Jersey, and the Stissing House in Pine Plains, New York – are places where patrons can enjoy a full meal or simply sit at the bar with a beer or cocktail. What distinguishes these establishments is not just their dual function but their role as community anchors. They cultivate a sense of familiarity and belonging, drawing in regulars who gather – often spontaneously – to socialize and connect. Jacqueline Haut Evans, an artist and real estate agent, captures this spirit in reflecting on her 25 years as a regular at the Sergeantsville Inn: “it doesn’t matter when I come in … I know I’m going to know somebody”.

Seen from a long historical perspective, the recent revival of the American tavern is less a reinvention than a rediscovery. For centuries, taverns have adapted to changing economic conditions and social expectations, shifting from indispensable civic institutions to more narrowly defined drinking establishments. Yet their enduring appeal lies in something deeper than their function: their ability to bring people together. While modern taverns may no longer host court sessions or house weary travelers, their renewed popularity suggests a continued desire for shared spaces that blur the boundaries between commerce and community. In this sense, today’s tavern – like its colonial predecessor – again hints at the power of a “third place,” reminding us that even in a digitized, fragmented world, the need for face-to-face connection remains as strong as ever.

Further Reading:

Earle, Alice Morse. 1900. Stage-coach and Tavern Days. The MacMillan Company.

Sismondo, Christone. 2014. America Walks into a Bar: A Spirited History of Taverns and Saloons, Speakeasies and Grog Shops. Oxford University Press.

Struzinski, Steven. 2002. The tavern in colonial America. The Gettysburg Historical Journal, Volume 1, Article 7

Alcohol Trends, Craft Beer, Craft Breweries, Gen Z, Low Alcohol Beer, Millennials, Non-Alcoholic Beer, Trends

A Glass Half Full Revisited: When Demographic Momentum Stalls

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In May 2015, I published a blog post titled “A Glass Half Full?” The piece was inspired by a simple yet intriguing question a colleague posed while we were enjoying a couple of beers together at the Delirium Cafe in Amsterdam: How large a share of the American beer market might craft brewers ultimately capture?

Toward the end of that blog entry, I offered my response. And here it is:

“Well I am not going to be nailed down to a specific market share. However, with demographic momentum working in their favor, capturing somewhere between 40% and 50% of the market (as currently defined) by 2035 is not unreasonable. Of course I may be wrong.“

Oh boy, was I wrong. Even though 2035 is still nine years away, it’s already clear that my prediction is unlikely to come close. Back in 2015, when I made it, craft breweries had already captured 19.3% of the American beer market – measured in dollar sales, not volume. Today, that share sits at 24.6%. That’s an increase, but hardly the dramatic surge I had anticipated when I offered that bold forecast eleven years ago. So, what went wrong?

Before addressing that question, it is worth revisiting the context behind my original prediction. Between 2010 and 2014, the number of craft breweries in the United States grew from 1,758 to 3,968 – an increase of ~125 percent. Over the same period, craft beer’s share of the U.S. beer market rose from 7.6 percent to 13 percent, a gain of 71 percent. By any reasonable measure, the industry was in the midst of an unmistakable boom.

In recent years, however, that boom has become something of a bust. Between 2020 and 2024, the number of craft breweries in the United States increased from 8,921 to 9,769, an increase of just 9.8%. Over the same period, craft beer’s market share increased from 23.7% to 24.7%. an increase of 4.2%. Taken together, these trends suggest that the American consumer’s appetite for craft beer has largely stalled.

Towards the end of my 2015 blog entry, I made the observation that my bold forecast hinged very much upon “the next generation of beer drinkers preferring craft over traditional beer” and that “preferences sometimes have a habit of changing with generational shifts”. How true this turned out to be.

It was Millennials – those born between 1981 and 1996 – whose outsized enthusiasm for craft beer powered the segment’s extraordinary expansion. Unfortunately, for craft brewers at least, it was an enthusiasm not shared by Generation Z – those born between 1997 and 2012.

It is well documented that members of Generation Z are drinking less alcohol. Writing for USA Today, Betty Lin‑Fisher characterizes this shift as Gen Z “ghosting” alcohol, noting that a desire to lead a healthier lifestyle is a key motivating factor. Survey data from Gallup in 2025 support this interpretation: 66% of Americans aged 18–34 reported that they viewed moderate alcohol consumption – defined as one or two drinks per day – as harmful to personal health. By comparison, this view was held by 50% of adults aged 35–54 and 48% of those aged 55 and older. A 2021 study in JAMA Pediatrics reported that 28% of college students abstained from alcohol in 2018, up from 20% in 2002. It is important to note that concern about the health impacts of alcohol has been increasing across all age groups in recent years, suggesting that changing attitudes toward drinking are not confined to younger generations alone.

Growing interest in healthier lifestyles – and a deliberate move away from alcohol – has given rise to initiatives such as Dry January and Sober October, while also adding new terms like “sober curious” to the popular lexicon. These shifts are not confined to the United States. Declining alcohol consumption has been documented across a range of advanced economies, including Australia, Ireland, and Japan. Even Germany – long regarded as a stronghold of beer culture – recorded its steepest drop in beer sales in more than three decades in 2025.

Many people who are cutting back on alcohol still want beverages that deliver beer’s familiar flavors. This preference has helped fuel rapid growth in the non‑ and low‑alcohol beer segment. In the United States, sales of non‑alcoholic beer rose by 23 percent between January and August 2025. Although non‑alcoholic beer still accounts for only about 1.3 percent of total beer sales, the category has become large enough to support major players. Athletic Brewing Company, which produces only non‑alcoholic beer at its breweries in Milford, Connecticut, and San Diego, California, now ranks as the sixth‑largest craft brewery in the United States.

Although much of the existing evidence points to declining alcohol use among Gen Z, a recent IWSR survey suggests the trend may not persist. In the United States, the share of legal drinking age (LDA+) Gen Z adults reporting alcohol consumption in the past six months increased from 46% to 70%. While this is quite a large change over a very short period, one expert suggests that this may be indicative of longer-tern trends and that as Gen Z age and gain greater disposable income, their drinking patterns may increasingly resemble those of older generations. Writing for the Pew Research Center on generational differences in values and behaviors, Michael Dimmock cautions that “don’t assume that what you see today is what you’ll get tomorrow.” In other words, change happens.

When all is said and done, this retrospective makes clear that my 2015 forecast was shaped by the extraordinary momentum of the craft beer boom and an assumption that Millennial preferences would be replicated by subsequent generations. Instead, the past decade has underscored how contingent such projections are on shifting demographic, cultural, and health-related dynamics. While Millennials’ enthusiasm propelled craft beer’s rapid ascent, slower growth since 2020 reflects both saturation and changing attitudes toward alcohol -especially among Gen Z, whose drinking behaviors differ markedly from their predecessors, at least to date. At the same time, the rise of non‑ and low‑alcohol beer, along with emerging evidence that Gen Z’s consumption patterns may evolve with age, serves as a reminder that generational preferences are neither fixed nor fully predictable. As the aforementioned Micheal Dimock of the Pew Research Center has noted, “what we observe today should not be mistaken for a permanent trajectory” – a lesson this episode in forecasting has reinforced all too clearly. And, as the Danish adage succinctly reminds us “prediction is very difficult, especially if it’s about the future”.

Further Reading:

McCabe, Sean E., Brooke J. Arterberry, and Kara Dickinson, Rebecca J. Evans-Polce, Jason A. Ford, Jennie E. Ryan, and Ty S. Schepis. . 2021. Assessment of changes in alcohol and marijuana abstinence, co-use, and use disorders among US young adults from 2002 to 2018. JAMA Pediatrics, Volume 175, Issue 1, pages 64-72.

Artificial Intelligence, Labels, Neolocalism

Protecting the Human Touch: AI, Art, and the Craft Beer Community

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Most of us have at least some familiarity with Artificial Intelligence -more commonly known as AI. As a university professor, I encounter it frequently as I try to determine whether, and in what ways, my students are using AI to complete their course assignments. When I set out to find a good definition of AI for this blog, I decided to turn to AI itself. According to Copilot (an AI‑powered assistant designed to enhance productivity and streamline workflow) AI is “a field of computer science focused on creating machines and software capable of performing tasks that typically require human intelligence. These tasks include things like learning from data, recognizing patterns, understanding language, solving problems, and making decisions.”

One of the major concerns surrounding AI is its potential impact on jobs currently performed by humans. Will people become expendable as AI systems advance? Which job roles or tasks within this industry are most vulnerable to AI? Are certain demographics (age, education level) more at risk of job loss? Are certain regions of the country more vulnerable to job disruption due to concentration of AI-impacted industries and job tasks? A quick search online reveals countless academic studies and media articles wrestling with these and other questions. When I typed “impact of artificial intelligence on jobs” into Google Scholar, it returned more than 2.4 million results.

However, this blog entry is not focused on AI’s broader implications for employment. Instead, it explores a more specific question: how might AI affect some of the creative professionals working within the brewing industry?

My interest in this question was sparked by an article I read on the BBC website last week (the BBC has recently introduced a paywall, but you can still access the article here). The piece described how Simon Hubbard, who runs the Mean Eyed Cat in Newcastle, England, has become increasingly aware of the growing use of AI in designing items such as bottle labels and pump clips (the small signs attached to beer hand‑pulls that let customers know what’s being served). Partnering with another bar, the Free Trade Inn in nearby Ouseburn, Hubbard has launched a campaign refusing to carry any items or products whose design elements have utilized AI

Hubbard kicked off the campaign on the bar’s Instagram account with an unapologetically blunt message, proclaiming that “AI art looks SH*T.” He criticizes it as “overly polished” and “overly perfect.” His frustration is aimed squarely at breweries turning to AI for their design work. Interestingly, it seems to be the older, more established breweries that have begun relying on AI to assist with their creative processes. Hubbard urges brewers to create their own artwork rather than relying on automated tools, delivering his message in in his typically direct, no‑nonsense style. – “Do it yourself, you lazy piece of shit!” implores Hubbard on his brewery’s Instagram post.

Simon Hubbard did not hold back in his attack on AI generated art in these Instagram posts

A key concern for Hubbard and others is that AI could displace work traditionally done by local creatives. Not everyone shares this worry, however. In Durham, England, artist Ashley Willerton believes there will always be a core group of pubs and breweries committed to supporting local designers. A lingering question, however, is whether that core will be large enough to sustain meaningful opportunities for creatives such as him. While acknowledging that AI might produce designs that are technically more refined, Willerton argues that such work lacks the human touch—and the deeper meaning—that comes from art created by people rather than algorithms.

Reece Hugill, owner of Donzoko Brewery in Newcastle, England, highlights another important dimension of working with local artists: for him, it’s about being part of the local community and ensuring that money remains within it, rather than being siphoned off into the coffers of some distant company.

Hugill’s observation is particularly compelling because it aligns with the broader neolocalism movement, a trend in which craft breweries play a prominent role. Geographer James Shortridge defined neolocalism in 1996 as the “deliberate seeking out of regional lore and local attachment by residents (new and old) as a delayed reaction to the destruction of modern America of traditional bonds to community and family.” Put simply, many Americans are actively looking for products that express a tangible connection to the communities in which they live. The popularity of farmers markets, independent bookstores and coffee shops are a testimony to people’s desire to support local producers.

Independently owned craft breweries – often operated by people who live just a few miles away—also meet this desire by offering a product whose identity is deeply rooted in place. While ingredients such as yeast, hops, or malted grains may come from outside the region, the water and, more importantly, the brewer’s creativity remain distinctly local.

One of my favorite breweries here in Toledo is Quenched & Tempered Brewing Co. (Q&T). The brewery is owned by Ali Drozdowicz, while her husband, Alex, serves as the Master Brewer. Along with enjoying their excellent beer, I especially appreciate the distinctive labels on their cans – each one designed by hand, in‑house, by Ali herself. On the brewery’s website, Ali highlights Q&T’s dedication to supporting local creatives, noting that “we support other small businesses and creatives because a strong community benefits everyone.” Another Toledo brewery, Earnest Brew Works, partners with Jason Sanderson, a local artist who designs and creates the chalkboard-style beer menus displayed behind the bars in its taprooms.

Some of the beautiful artwork by Ali Drozdowicz of Quenched & Tempered Brewing Co.
The chalkboard-style menus at Earnest Brew Works, designed by Jason Sanderson

In response to the growing influence of AI, there are increasing calls for a universally recognized label that identifies products and services as “human-made.” Terms such as “Human-made” and “AI-free” are already appearing in connection with films, books, and websites. In many ways, these emerging labels mirror the Independent Craft Brewer seal created and promoted by the Brewers Association.

The independent craft beer seal used by craft breweries to identify themselves as authentic craft producers

Dr. Amna Khan, a consumer behavior and retailing expert at Manchester Metropolitan University, argues that “a universal definition is essential to build trust, clarification, and confidence.” Yet while many consumers would welcome such a label, developing one is far from straightforward. Key challenges include establishing a shared definition of what “AI-free” actually means. Some view it as a continuum rather than a binary concept.

The UK government is currently considering legislation that would require clear labeling of AI‑generated content. The discussion is complex, with Technology Minister Liz Kendall emphasizing the need to balance protections for creative industries with the importance of allowing the AI sector to continue innovating.

As debates about artificial intelligence continue to unfold across different economic sectors – from higher education to manufacturing to the creative industries – the brewing world provides a compelling microcosm of the larger tensions at play. What’s happening in Newcastle, Durham, and here in Toledo is not simply a dispute about aesthetics or technological convenience; it reflects deeper questions about community, identity, and the value we place on human creativity. While AI can generate polished images in seconds, it cannot replicate the lived experiences, local knowledge, and personal relationships that shape the work of designers, illustrators, and brewers who root their craft in place. Whether AI ultimately becomes a tool that supports creatives or a force that undermines them will depend on choices made by breweries, consumers, and communities alike. For now, the pushback from people like Simon Hubbard—and the commitments of artists and brewers who champion local collaboration—offer an important reminder that supporting human creativity is also an investment in the cultural and economic vitality of the place we call home.

Further Reading:

Shortridge, James. 1996. Keeping tabs on Kansas: reflections on regionally based field study. Journal of Cultural Geography, Volume 16, number 1, pages 5-16.

Note: The image on the header of this blog entry is AI-generated. I thought it would be interesting to ask AI to produce an image protesting itself.

History

Drink Wisconsibly

A few days ago, I was going through some of my “posts in progress” — drafts I had started but never quite finished. They’re all in different stages of completion. Some may eventually be published, while others will probably never see the light of day.

One draft I stumbled across was titled “Drink Wisconsibly.” To my surprise, it was actually finished — just never published. I have no idea why. I wrote it back in the summer of 2024.

So, here it is: “Drink Wisconsibly.” Enjoy.

Two years ago at Christmas, my oldest daughter and her husband gave me a white T-shirt. Across the front was an outline of the state of Wisconsin with the words Drink Wisconsibly splashed across it. It’s a clever twist on the familiar “Drink Responsibly” tagline from TV commercials, with a nod to the great state of Wisconsin.

If T-shirts aren’t your style the Drink Wisconsibly website offers plenty of other options — ball caps, sweatshirts, beer mittens, lip balm, and more — all featuring the same logo. The site proudly describes Drink Wisconsibly as “Wisconsin’s preeminent lifestyle brand”.

Enjoying a beer wearing my Drink Wisconsibly t-shirt

Wisconsin has long shared a deep and storied connection with beer and the brewing industry. Brewing began in the state in the 1830s, and it didn’t take long for it to become woven into everyday life. According to the Wisconsin Historical Society, during the latter half of the 19th century, “nearly every community had at least one operating brewery,” and breweries were “as much a part of Wisconsin communities as churches and schools.”

By the start of the Civil War in 1861, Wisconsin was home to nearly 160 breweries. That number continued to climb, surpassing 300 by the 1890s.

The remarkable growth of the state’s brewing industry in the 19th century was closely tied to the influx of German immigrants who settled across Wisconsin. They brought with them a deep appreciation for beer — especially lager — along with the skills and expertise needed to brew it. In fact, by the late 19th century, German immigrants dominated the American brewing industry. By 1880, 80.5% of brewers in the United States were either German immigrants or the sons of German immigrants.

According to Mark Louden, Director of the Max Kade Institute for German-American Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, many German immigrants were drawn to Wisconsin by the abundant supply of affordable farmland. By 1900, 34 percent of the state’s population was of German ancestry.

Today, that influence remains strong: 40.5 percent of Wisconsinites claim German heritage. In several counties across the state, more than half of residents trace their ancestry to Germany (see map below).

Source: University of Wisconsin-Madison

Several breweries that achieved iconic status among American beer drinkers were founded in Wisconsin — particularly in Milwaukee. Pabst Brewing Company was established in 1844, followed by Jos. A. Schlitz Brewing Company in 1848, and Miller Brewing Company in 1855.

I should add that Old Milwaukee — brewed by Schlitz — was my beer of choice during my doctoral student days at Arizona State University in the late 1980s (by then, the brand had been acquired by Schlitz Brewing Company of Detroit, Michigan).

By 1914, brewing had become Wisconsin’s fifth largest industry. Given this long and storied history of beer production, Dr. Robin Shepard of the University of Wisconsin–Madison has suggested that the state may be “on a par with other worldly recognized brewing areas such as Bavaria, the Czech Republic and Belgium“.

In addition to beer, Wisconsin was also a significant producer of hops between 1840 and 1910, with production peaking at five million pounds in 1860.

As in many other states, Wisconsin was home to a strong and active temperance movement. During the latter half of the 19th century, lawmakers passed numerous measures aimed at curbing excessive drinking. For instance, an 1849 law held tavern owners “responsible for any costs associated with supporting drunkards”, reflecting growing concern about alcohol’s social impact.

The advent of Prohibition (1920–1933) posed serious challenges for Wisconsin’s breweries. Many were forced to close their doors permanently, while others managed to survive by pivoting to alternative products such as soft drinks, ice cream, and cheese. For ordinary citizens, bootlegging and homebrewing became key sources of beer during those dry years.

There is little doubt that Wisconsinites love their beer. One writer describes Milwaukee’s relationship with beer as a “liquid romance”, observing that “drinking infiltrates almost every social activity.” Another points to the state’s “enduring love of dairy, beer and sausage”, neatly capturing a defining trio of Wisconsin culture.

That affection is woven into the state’s identity. Wisconsin’s only Major League Baseball team, the Milwaukee Brewers, proudly carries the brewing tradition in its name. Milwaukee is also home to the Museum of Beer and Brewing, celebrating the city’s rich brewing heritage.

Today, Wisconsin boasts a thriving craft beer scene, with 266 breweries across the state. In 2023, it ranked 6th in the nation for the number of breweries per 100,000 adults of legal drinking age — further proof that the state’s love affair with beer is alive and well.

According to data from County Health Rankings & Roadmaps, reported by 24/7 Wall St. in 2022, Wisconsin was ranked the drunkest state in America, with 25.2 percent of adult residents reporting excessive drinking. The same dataset revealed that six of the ten drunkest cities in the country were located in Wisconsin — with Appleton claiming the number one spot.

A 2019 report from the University of Wisconsin Population Health Institute found that, across every age group, Wisconsin residents exceeded the national average for binge drinking. The study defined binge drinking as consuming five or more drinks per occasion for men and four or more for women.

Among those who engage in binge drinking, Wisconsinites average 4.1 binge drinking episodes per month — roughly once a week.

Source: University of Wisconsin Public Health Institute

It is worth noting that, in terms of per capita alcohol consumption, Wisconsin ranks 8th among the 50 states and the District of Columbia (with New Hampshire holding the top spot). However, when it comes to the rate of excessive drinking, Wisconsin ranks first.

Excessive drinking, unfortunately, contributes to alcohol-related deaths. The graph below illustrates that the total number of alcohol-induced deaths in Wisconsin (excluding automobile accidents) rose steadily from 1999 to 2021.

Source: WisconsinWatch.org.

I, along with other academics, have written about the benefits of moderate alcohol consumption – specially in social settings—while also cautioning against the dangers of excess. Drink Wisconsibly is a brilliantly clever twist on the familiar advice to Drink Responsibly.

Wisconsin boasts a rich brewing history and a thriving community of creative modern craft breweries. So why not do both? Let’s drink Wisconsibly—savoring the state’s fantastic beers—while also drinking responsibly, enjoying them in moderation with friends. In other words: Drink Wisconsibly, Responsibly.

Pubs, Social Drinking

Solo Drinking

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“No. Shirts, No Shoes, No Service” is a sign occasionally seen outside restaurants, stores, and other business establishments. According to Dave Roos, writing for Howstuffworks.com, these signs trace their origins to the counterculture movement of the 1960s and 1970s when businesses sought to keep “long-haired, tie-dyed, barefooted hippies” out of their establishments. When we see such signs today most of us rarely raise an eyebrow.

Eyebrows have been raised, however, at the rather unusual admissions policy of the Alibi Cocktail & Karaoke Bar in the town of Altrincham, England. The sign at the entrance is unequivocal – after 9pm single unaccompanied adults will not be allowed to enter. In other words, if you fancy going into Alibi by yourself for a couple of drinks after 9pm you are out of luck.

The sign outside the Alibi Cocktail & Karaoke Bar in Altrincham prohibits unaccompanied adults after 9pm.

While the policy has been in place since the bar opened in 2022 it seems that it is only recently that it has received media attention, both in the UK and overseas. In an interview with the BBC, owner Carl Peters said that the policy was designed to “mitigate risk” and “protect his customers” from being “mithered” by solo drinkers. The risk being mitigated apparently is the possibility that a solo customer might have a medical emergency such as a seizure. If they are part of a group the likelihood is that a member of the group may know something about the individual’s medical history, know if there is a family member they can call, or take care of them in some other fashion. I am not quite sure what happens if a solo drinker should happen to experience such an event before 9pm. It seems a rather obtuse justification for the said policy. Yet if the rule has been in place since the bar first opened, one is left to wonder whether he managed or owned another venue where this proved to be a problem. In any event, it is his bar and, unless he violates the UK’s Equality Act, he has the right to deny entry to anyone he chooses.

The second reason Mr, Clark gives for denying entry to solo drinkers after 9pm is a fear that other customers may be “mithered” by them. Mithered – now there’s a great word. Mither is a word in common use in northern England . When used as a verb it means to pester or annoy. While its origins are uncertain, it may be derived from 17th century Welsh. So Mr. Clark is worried about single drinkers pestering his patrons who are there as part of a group. As with the issue of solo drinkers potentially having a medical emergency this seems a rather bizarre reason for denying them entry. Again, it is possible that Mr. Clark has had past instances of this being a problem. As noted by Gary Timmons of The Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) organization, bar owners are in the best position to “judge what’s best for both their business, staff, and customers” and that it is up to each establishment to “establish rules which reflect their clientele”.

Bar employees at other pubs in the Greater Manchester region (where Alibi is located) are somewhat bemused by Alibi’s admission policy. Mike Ramsden, manager at Tariff and Dale Bar and Restaurant, noted that single customers were very common in his bar and that he could “see no reason why a single person would be an issue.” Indeed, dropping in alone for a drink, he noted, is entirely normal. As he explained, “there are a lot of places around here where people come in, sit at the bar by themselves, and chat with the bartenders.”

Christopher Rawlinson, general manager at The Salmon of Knowledge pub noted that pubs and bars are designed for people to gather and meet other people. He went on to say that, “It’s the blokes on their own that keep this industry ticking over. We have plenty of customers who come in alone, some with their dogs, some to watch sport.”

Mr. Rawlinson’s remark about bars as places of gathering prompted me to reflect on the role that pubs and bars play as Third Places. The term Third Place was coined by the urban sociologist Ray Oldenburg in the early 1980s. Oldenburg defined Third Places as “nothing more than informal public gathering places”. Writing for the Brookings Institution Stuart M. Butler and Carmen characterize them as places where we “exchange ideas, have a good time, and build relationships”, while Michael Hickey refers to them as “the living room of society”. Central to Oldenburg’s conception is that Third Places should be inclusive and accessible: no one, in principle, should be excluded. While pubs and bars do impose certain restrictions—most notably age requirements—I am not aware of any that deny entry simply because an individual is not part of a group.

From my perspective, Alibi’s entry restrictions violate both the spirit and intent of Oldenburg’s concept of the Third Place, and that is regrettable. Third Places such as pubs and bars play an important role in modern societies, not least in helping to combat loneliness. Loneliness has become a significant societal problem both in the UK and other countries, with the U.S. Surgeon General characterizing it as an epidemic. A 2024 report by the UK Government found that 7% of people in England (approximately 3.1 million people) said they felt lonely often or always, while British Red Cross estimate the number at 9 million. The not-for-profit Campaign to End Loneliness note that “pubs are important places encouraging vital social connections and interactions“, while a 2018 report by the Royal Society for Public Health emphasized the role that British pubs play as community Third Places. Policies that exclude individuals simply for arriving alone risk undermining this social function and, in doing so, diminish the broader public value these spaces can provide.

In a recent report titled “Open Arms: The Role of Pubs in Tackling Loneliness” Thomas Thurnell-Read, a sociologist at Loughborough University in the UK, wrote:

“Above all, pubs must feel inclusive and welcoming. Across the research, the most prominent examples of pubs playing a social role in their local communities tended to be those that catered to a range of customers and made people feel welcome and valued“.

In his report Dr. Thurnell-Read provides some examples of pubs that go out of their way to cater to single drinkers. One example he cites is a pub in the southeast of England which had created “Join Me’ cards. Customers can place these on their table indicating that they were amenable to being joined in conversation. Staff members were also encouraged to go out of their way to engage with these customers.

The not-for-profit Pub is The Hub organization recognizes the important role pubs can play in reducing loneliness. Its “Join Inn – Last Orders for Loneliness” campaign includes a practical guide to help pub owners and staff understand loneliness, its effects, and simple actions they can take to make a meaningful difference.

Sadly, the number of British pubs is declining. Between 2000 and 2024 the number of pubs in the UK fell by 26.2% from ~61,000 to ~45,000., with a further 540 closures forecast for 2026.Inflation, higher taxes on alcohol and hikes in wage and energy costs have all contributed to this decrease.

As someone who does a fair amount of solo travel, I often find myself going to bars and having a drink on my own. While I enjoy spending time at a bar with friends, I am equally comfortable drinking solo. In a recent article on solo drinkers, Javier Porter suggests that it can be “a liberating and enjoyable experience . . . a time for self-reflection and introspection . . . to escape the pressures of social expectations and simply enjoy their own company”. I have to say that Mr. Porter’s words resonate with me. When I go to a bar by myself, any conversation I have is usually with the bartender. I am not one to start conversations with strangers, although I am happy to engage in one if someone else instiates it.

On a recent journey home from Košice, Slovakia, I overnighted at the Sheraton Hotel at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport. After checking in, I went down to the hotel bar for a few beers. When I’m drinking solo, I typically sit at the bar, and this time was no exception. I was the only person there until about halfway through my first Heineken, when someone else took a seat a few stools away. He made an offhand comment about something or other, and before long we were engaged in an easy, enjoyable conversation. He turned out to be from Texas and was en route to India on business.

Soon after, two others arrived and joined our conversation – a retiree from Florida and a younger woman from California – as did our bartender, Michael. The conversation quickly broadened, moving across a wide range of topics and turning what began as a quiet beer into an unexpectedly memorable evening of shared stories and conversation.

My new-found drinking buddies, plus Michael the bartender (far left), while stopping over in Amsterdam on my way back from Kosice, Slovakia last summer

It seems a great pity that, at a time when the number of pubs is declining and loneliness is increasingly recognized as a social problem, one particular pub would adopt a policy that does not welcome solo drinkers after 9:00 p.m. Admittedly, it is only a single establishment, and the policy applies only during the later evening hours. Still, the message it sends feels at odds with the role that pubs and bars have long played as inclusive social spaces.

Further Reading:

Oldenburg, Ramon and Dennis. 1982. The third place. Qualitative Sociology, Volume 5, Pages 265–284.

Thurnell-Read, Thomas. Open Arms: The Role of Pubs in Tackling Loneliness. Loughborough University.

Breweries, Craft Breweries

2025 Year In Review

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It is a tradition that my last blog entry of the year reflect upon the previous twelve months with a photo gallery of the breweries I visited during that period. In 2026, I visited a total of 35 breweries- 15in my home state of Ohio, 14 in other states, and 6 outside of the United States. The 14 breweries I visited in other states were located in California, Colorado, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Utah, while those outside of the United States were in Armenia, Canada, Poland, and Slovakia. Of the 34 breweries 21 were ones I had visited before and 14 were first time visits (indicated in bold in the list below).

As per tradition, following the list below, I have included one photograph from each of the breweries I visited. Enjoy.

OHIO (15)

  • 60cc Brewing, Toledo, OH
  • BJ’s Restaurant & Brewhouse, Toledo, OH
  • CLAG Brewing Co. Sandusky, OH
  • Great Black Swamp Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
  • Hoptometry Brewing, Tiffin, OH
  • Inside the Five Brewing Company, Sylvania, OH
  • Inside The Five Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
  • Inside the Five Brewing Co., Perrysburg, OH
  • Jackie O’s Pub and Brewery, Athens, OH
  • Maumee Bay Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
  • Old Dog Alehouse & Brewery, Delaware, OH
  • Patron Saints Brewery, Toledo, OH
  • Quenched & Tempered Brewing Co. Toledo, OH
  • The Laird Arcade Brewery, Tiffin, OH
  • Voodoo Brewing Company, Toledo OH

REST OF UNITED STATES (14)

  • Bell’s Eccentric Cafe, Kalamazoo, MI
  • Blind Lady Ale House, San Diego, CA
  • Dark Horse Brewing Company, Marshall, MI
  • Gordon Biersch Brewing Company, Romulus, MI (Airport Location)
  • Harland Beer Co., San Diego, CA (Bay Park Location)
  • Red Rock Brewery, Salt Lake City, UT (Airport Location)
  • New Holland Brewing Co., Battle Creek, MI
  • North Park Beer Co., San Diego, CA (North Park Location)
  • Pavlov’s Brewing Co., Temperance, MI
  • San Diego Tap Room, San Diego, CA
  • Seek Beer Co., San Diego, CA
  • Stone Brewing, San Diego, CA (Airport Location)
  • Vault Brewing Company, Yardley, PA
  • Woods Boss Brewing Company, Denver, CO

INTERNATIONAL (6)

  • Beer Academy Ethnograph, Yerevan, Armenia
  • Brovaria, Poznan, Poland
  • Pivovar Golem, Košice, Slovakia
  • Pivovar Hostinec, Košice, Slovakia
  • Steamworks Brewing Co., Vancouver, Canada
  • Yaletown Brewing Company, Vancouver, Canada
60cc Brewing, Toledo, OH
Beer Academy Ethnograph, Yerevan, Armenia
Bell’s Eccentric Cafe, Kalamazoo, MI
BJ’s Restaurant and Brewhouse, Toledo, OH
Blind Lady Ale House, San Diego, CA
Brovaria, Poznan, Poland
CLAG Brewing Co., Sandusky, OH
Dark Horse Brewing Company, Marshall, MI
Gordon Biersch Brewing Company, Romulus, MI (Airport Location)
Great Black Swamp Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
Harland Beer Co., San Diego, CA (Bay Park Location)
Hoptometry Brewing, Tiffin, OH
Inside The Five Brewing Co., Sylvania, OH
Inside The Five Brewing Co., Perrysburg, OH
Inside The Five Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
Jackie O’s Pub and Brewery, Athens, OH
Maumee Bay Brewing Co., Toledo, OH
New Holland Brewing Co., Battle Creek, MI
North Park Beer Co., San Diego, CA (North Park Location)
Old Dog Alehouse & Brewery, Delaware, OH
Patron Saints Brewery, Toledo, OH
Pavlov’s Brewing Co., Temperance, MI
Pivovar Golem, Košice, Slovakia
Pivovar Hostinec, Košice, Slovakia
Quenched & Tempered Brewing Co. Toledo, OH
Red Rock Brewery, Salt Lake City, UT (Airport Location)
San Diego Tap Room, San Diego, CA
Seek Beer Co., San Diego, CA
Steamworks Brewing Company, Vancouver, Canada
Stone Brewing, San Diego, California (Airport Location)
The Laird Arcade Brewery, Tiffin, OH
Vault Brewing Company, Yardley, PA
Woods Boss Brewing Company, Denver, CO
Yaletown Brewing Company, Vancouver, Canada
Voodoo Brewing Company, Toledo, OH
Authenticity, History, International, Lager, Neolocalism

Welcome to Wrexham (Lager)

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I have a deep passion for football—known as soccer here in the United States. Most of that passion is devoted to Glasgow Celtic, the Scottish club I’ve supported avidly since I was seven years old. Thanks to the internet and cable television, I can keep up not only with my team but with the sport more broadly. Beyond watching matches, I occasionally enjoy football documentaries. Two of my favorites are Sunderland ’Til I Die and Welcome to Wrexham. Both series chronicle the challenges faced by the men’s teams of Sunderland and Wrexham as they strive to win enough points to climb the tiers of English football. Interestingly, although Wrexham is based in Wales, its team competes in the English Football League—a legacy of the early 20th century when no Welsh league existed. As a result, Wrexham, along with Cardiff City, Newport County, and Swansea City, was invited to play in English League.

Of the two documentaries, Welcome to Wrexham has received the most publicity. This is in large thanks to the fact that, back in 2021 actors Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney became the co-owners of the club. Both have a starring role in Welcome to Wrexham. The takeover has been hugely successful and over a four-year period (2021-2025) the club gained three successive promotions and moved from the fifth to the second tier of the English football pyramid.

But it’s not just the local football team that Reynolds and McElhenney invested in. They also, along with the Allyn family of Skaneateles, NY, became majority co-owners of a local brewery, Wrexham Lager Beer Co., in 2024. It is a brewery with an interesting history. It was founded In 1882 by two German Immigrants, Ivan Levinstein and Otto Isler. During the 1900s, Wrexham Lager was exported worldwide, finding markets in places as far away as Australia, India, and the Americas. Such was the popularity of Wrexham Lager during the early 20th century that it was available to passengers on the ill-fated Titanic.

In 2000, due to declining demand, the brewery closed its doors. The then owners of the brewery, Carlsberg-Tetley, continued to produce the Lager at a brewery in Blackburn in England. They did so until 2002 when production ceased completely. In 2011, a local family, the Roberts, decided to revive the brand and brew Wrexham Lager in a newly constructed microbrewery. Along with Reynolds, McElhenny, and the Allyn family, the Roberts remain co-owners of the brewery.

Long before Reynolds’s and McElhenney invested in either the football club or the brewery there was a strong connection between the club’s fans and Wrexham Lager. It was, indeed, a staple brew for many Wrexham fans, so much so that the Lager got its own chant. To the tune of the Welsh hymn Bread of Heaven, the chant goes:

Wrexham Lager, Wrexham Lager

Feed me ’til I want no more (want no more),

Feed me ’til I want no more..

As both a football fan and a beer enthusiast, I was familiar with Wrexham Lager and its connection to the local football club—though I had never actually tasted it. That changed a few weeks ago. While browsing the beer section of the dinner menu at a local restaurant, I noticed Wrexham Lager listed among the offerings. At $9 a can, it was pricier than the other craft beers on the menu—likely due in part to the fact that it had traveled all the way from Wrexham to Toledo. Or so I thought.

As I examined the can (as I do with most canned beers that I have for the first time) I noticed that the beer inside was not brewed in Wrexham, but in Normal, IL at Destihl Brewery. Curious about Destihl I visited their website. Established in 2007, in addition to their own line of beers Destihl brew a number of what they call ‘partner beers’. Included in these is Wrexham Lager.

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed by this discovery. One of the things I value most about craft beer is its local character—the way it reflects and connects to a specific place. This sense of place has been widely studied by several geographers, including Scott Taylor Jr. and Robin DiPietro of the University of Houston and the University of South Carolina-Columbia, respectively. In their work, they explore the concept of place-based brands—brands that are defined by their geographic origin and cannot be authentically reproduced elsewhere because of the unique qualities tied to that location.

With respect to Wrexham Lager, the question is simple – can Wrexham Lager be brewed anywhere except Wrexham. Martyn Jones who represented the people of Wrexham as a member of the British Parliament between 1987 and 2010 doesn’t think so. He put it very simply “It isn’t Wrexham Lager if it isn’t brewed in Wrexham.” Before becoming a Member of Parliament, Jones worked in the Wrexham Lager Brewery. In 2020 (when the Lager was being brewed in Blackburn) Jones spearheaded a campaign to bring production of the famous Lager back to Wrexham.

The statement by Martyn Jones gets right to the heart of the question of authenticity. Is the Wrexham Lager that is brewed in Illinois authentic? One might argue that as long as the Lager is brewed using the same ingredients and the same recipe then what’s the big deal? Others, such as Martyn Jones, would suggest otherwise and would argue that where Wrexham Lager is brewed is a big deal.

This is not the first time the issue has been raised with respect to the brewing industry. Back in 2016, a judge found in favor of the plaintiff in a class action lawsuit filed against Anheuser-Busch (A-B). The lawsuit revolved around Beck’s beer. While ostensibly a German beer, Beck’s was owned by Anheuser-Busch InBev. In addition to being brewed in Bremen Germany, since 2012 Beck’s had been brewed in St. Louis, MO. The lawsuit alleged that Anheuser-Busch “misrepresented to consumers that Beck’s Beer is brewed in and imported from Germany”. Plaintiffs alleged “that these beers are in fact domestically brewed but priced as a premium imported beer”.

In a case study of a Scottish craft brewery, David Brown of Heriot-Watt University (UK) examines the challenges the owner faces as he considers expanding beer distribution into England and Wales. Many of the brewery’s products feature names inspired by local landmarks and Scottish idioms, with labels referencing regional issues—such as a nearby nudist colony. As they enter more geographically distant markets, a key question arises: should these local references remain unchanged, or be adapted to make the brand more accessible and transparent to non-local consumers? Selling a beer with a strong sense of place beyond its home region can presents some unique branding challenges.

Wrexham Lager is brewed at Destihl in Normal, IL

The story of Wrexham Lager—and its connection to football, community, and identity—highlights a broader debate about authenticity in an increasingly globalized world. While recipes and branding can travel, the sense of place that defines a product is harder to replicate. For some, brewing Wrexham Lager in Illinois may seem inconsequential, but for others, like Martyn Jones, it strikes at the heart of what makes the beer unique. This tension between tradition and practicality is not new; it echoes similar controversies across the brewing industry, where geographic origin remains a powerful marker of authenticity. Ultimately, whether in football or beer, place matters—not just as a backdrop, but as an integral part of the story we tell and the experiences we value.

Further Reading:

Brown, David M. 2023. Managing neolocalism outside the locale in real ale and craft beer entrepreneurship: The case of Ben Lui Brewery. The International Journal of Entrepreneurship and Innovation.

Taylor, Scott, Jr and Robin DiPietro. 2020. Assessing consumer perceptions of neolocalism: Making a case for microbreweries as place-based brands. Cornell Hospitality Quarterly, Volume 61, Numbr 2, Pages 183–198.

Musings on Beer