USA, OR: Brujos Brewing launches its brick-and-mortar space in northwest Portland
Brujos Brewing officially opened on March 2 its new brick-and-mortar space in northwest Portland. Not to say there was some unholy spirit involved, but as beer sales have fallen nationwide, Brujos followers still packed the taproom as if it were a megachurch on its opening day, the Willamette Week reported on March 19.
The elusiveness of Brujos beers has been part of the mystique—previously only accessible through rare merch drops on a bigcartel.com page (still its only website). On Instagram, the brewery often posts black-and-white images of a cloaked figure shrouded in darkness presiding over a brewhouse as if it were a cauldron.
Brujos fans are not the backward-cap bros or bearded beer nerds that define craft beer stereotypes. They dress in nearly all black, with band shirts and brewery hoodies depicting skulls, demons and Lovecraftian monsters. Brujo is Spanish for sorcerer or male witch. The Brujos brand is cloaked in the trappings of the occult and black-metal worship.
The warlock in the shadows is founder Sam Zermeño, the chief conjurer who prefers anonymity. Zermeño grew up in Tijuana, Mexico, and found his community in alternative metal, arts and homebrewing clubs—eventually becoming a professional brewer after relocating to SoCal. In 2019, Zermeño found his way to Oregon, landing as a brewer at Great Notion, where he began to make his own Brujos-branded creations as collaborations or special releases.
Most beer nerds had heard whispers of Brujos but never tried the beers—Brujos was their first taste of something wicked that can only be described as saturated intensity. First famous for devilish Abyssinian stouts of spirit-level strength, Zermeño embraced New England-style hazy IPAs as opaque as a bowl of leftover cereal milk. Great Notion initially brought the East Coast style of hazy IPA to Oregon, but few make them like Brujos, with the level of hop matter and throat-scratching flavor that claws on your larynx like a poltergeist.
Brujos’ following grew, but Zermeño still found the ghostly apparitions of a brewery of his own difficult to conjure. He had the magic, but not the money. Rather than sacrifice his soul to an evil corporate entity, Zermeño built his own coven from loyal fans-turned-business partners. Jesse McFarland and Scott Lemaster, both Great Notion regulars, came onboard in 2023. They acquired the recently deceased Hammer & Stitch Brewing’s space to build their own house of worship from the bones. Culling from the community, Brujos recruited lead brewer Maxwell Schmitt and unofficial pastor of the beer temple Ivan Morales to join the team.
Brujos has now opened a taproom informed by dark fantasy fiction it calls the “Scorched Church.” An all-black room with mural of a skull bleeding gold from its gaping jaws, a tall, churchlike ceiling with casts of lantern- and scythe-carrying ghouls looking down from above, and a bar with adorned arches reaching to the ceiling like the Eye of Sauron in Mordor. Behind the taps are church pews and oak tables stained in obsidian black against a false wall with pointed arched abbey-style windows that give glimpses of the brewing systems. The dim, cavernous taproom is lit with warm Victorian-style drop-down chandeliers and the cold blue backlit glow of gothic metal lettering spelling out Brujos. The beers have evolved, no longer only rich and strong hop soups in a glass, but now bready lagers and even contemporary citrusy non-alcoholic hop water is available for the congregation.
With the tagline “Conjuring Liquid Spells,” Brujos opened its doors in March with a more diverse set of clear lagers and ales alongside the murky opacity it is known for. Brujos has partnered with San Diego chef Colin Murray to run a Baja- and Mediterranean-style kitchen, Saint LoveJoy’s, out of the pub. Brujos is not like the family-friendly Portland brewpubs, more like the doom-metal garage club you discovered after reading a handwritten flyer in the restroom of a dive bar. It’s strictly 21 and over. As co-owner Jesse McFarland put it, “Can you imagine having kids in here? They would never stop having nightmares.”
20 March, 2024
