Top 10 Beers of the Year
Anspach & Hobday London Black (London) On nitro at the brewery, the dry-stout vibes come with a subtle, refined aroma of toasted cacao and burnt bread crust—simultaneously simple and light yet rich in flavor. A roasty kick over the creamy dark-chocolate body disappears quickly from the tongue—and, before you know it, the pint is done, and you’re on to the next. Light and beautifully refined.
Fidens The Farmer (Albany, New York) Fresh melon and lychee in the aroma join touches of sudachi and Key lime rind. Smooth and direct in the sip, it maintains a vibrant energy with a touch of herbal punch, as an overarching brightness pushes and pulls with the soft body. At 8.5 percent ABV in the New England style, it rides a beautiful line between clean New Zealand hop structure and indulgent PNW citrus.
Notch Zwickel Beer (Salem, Massachusetts) Beautiful rustic sourdough notes in the aroma come with faint floral hits and a touch of petrichor. A hint of lime structures the lightly sweet bread notes in the sip, with a refined but substantial bitterness that rolls in as smoothly as it rolls out. After I recorded a podcast with founder Chris Lohring in March, he sent me away with a four-pack, which I enjoyed over the next few days of travel. I went back to the brewery days later, before I flew out, and bought another to take home. I had to have more.
Green Cheek Pierre’s Paloma (Orange, California) After filming a video course with Evan Price this fall, we drank a bunch of beer, of course—but then, before I left, Evan and partner Brian Rauso insisted I try their latest seltzer. Brian presented it in a stemless wine glass, complete with grapefruit slice. I was skeptical … and then I wasn’t. It was the only four- pack I took back home. Light, easy to drink, crisp, breezy—the grapefruit does a beautiful job of balancing any sweetness. Green Cheek has the medals to prove how serious they are about beer, and that intention is just as evident in this seltzer.
Wildflower Table Beer (Sydney, Australia) This was my favorite beer at this year’s Firestone Walker Invitational—small, flavorful, but perfectly in scale, with surprising body for a beer of 2.9 percent ABV. It’s mixed-culture without tasting so mixed-culture, a beautiful example of the nuances that half-wild fermentation can produce in shorter-aged beers, consumed fresh. It was so moving that I immediately asked founder Topher Boehm to pen a Brewer’s Perspective for this issue (pages 72–73).
Dogfish Head Mid-90s Microbrewery-Style Red Ale (Milton, Delaware) Thick with nostalgia, this beer benefits from decades of added brewing experience and ingredient development—so, it’s not quite a true reenactment (hence the “-style” tag). But it’s packed with smooth, moderate bitterness, a touch of burnt bread crust, just a bit of husky cacao, and countless memories. Great from the can, but it was even better on cask at the brewpub.
Benchtop Pilsners Are Lagers (Norfolk, Virginia) The subtle purple-flower, bread-crust, and white-grape aromas are soft but structured. It’s substantially malt-forward in the sip, with brilliant hop notes that feel modern but thoroughly rooted, backed by a friendly but firm bitterness that asserts in the finish. It’s proof positive that pils can feel fresh and exciting while staying rooted in its European origins. There was none on draft when I visited the brewery, but I’m grateful that founder-brewer Eric Tennant dug up a can to send home with me.
Fonta Flora Lake James Rind (Nebo, North Carolina) It’s become a running joke between our review coordinator Paul Hutchings and me—ask us about our favorite fruit beer, and we’ll both sing the praises of this watermelon lager from the magicians in Nebo. It’s far more complicated than the category demands—local heirloom corn and fresh local fruit in a light lager—but the work pays outsized dividends. It’s not just a guilty pleasure; it’s a beer I’d put toe-to-toe against any other, anywhere, for pure enjoyment, with a beautiful brewing story to match.
Chimay Gold (Chimay, Belgium) I love the fermentation character and structure of Belgian abbey-style ales, but I don’t love drinking high-ABV beers all that often. Enter Chimay Gold—or Dorée, as it’s labeled in Belgium—which I first experienced on draft at a bar in Poperinge. The beautiful fermentation expression sets up a tight phenolic structure, with evident malt and hops but low bitterness—and, at 4.8 percent ABV, I could drink a few without regretting it the next day. I’m thrilled to see this making its way to the United States—I had one on draft not long ago at Monk’s Café in Philadelphia—and the world needs more pilsner-strength beers with this much character.
Stemma saBRO, That’s Fresh! (Bellingham, Washington) I’m amused by the general disdain for Sabro hops among brewer friends, but earlier this year our panel was thrilled by a Sabro-centered beer from Maplewood, and this fresh-Sabro IPA from Stemma was a standout among all the fresh-hopped beers I tasted at GABF. The hazy treatment allows the hops to thrive, with that malt sweetness softening the creamy coconut-and-lime notes, while the green matter provides texture and grit. While so many thick hazy IPAs sit on the tongue, this one darted and weaved, forcing me to pay attention and keep up.
Most Memorable Beer Experiences of the Past Year
Two spring to mind. The first was the party after the Copa Baja competition in Mexicali, Mexico, last November. As we filed into Amante Brew Company, past the taproom and into the brewhouse, a three-piece band stood on the brew deck playing songs familiar to the crowd of Mexican brewers. Everyone sang along. Two guys were serving tacos al pastor on the far side of the brewhouse. It was, by far, the most raucous brewhouse party I’ve experienced—an expression of love and community that spoke volumes. The next day, we experienced their festival, among the best that I’ve ever attended. The music was incredible, and I left thinking, “How do we tap deeper into this party vibe with festivals in the United States?”
On that notes, the other experience was the NB2A party in Las Vegas, in the back room of Beer Zombies during the Craft Brewers Conference. There was a similar vibe, so much love and community, and an absolutely slammed bar—it was hard to get a beer. There was an infectious energy that reminded me that craft beer hasn’t peaked—it’s just getting started. The future energy and drive in craft—the sparks that will keep this fire going—are lit, and it’s up to all of us to keep fanning the flames.