USA: Experts warn of possible hops shortage
In April 1975, San Francisco's Anchor Brewing Co., the only craft brewery in America at the time, introduced a beer that its owner, Fritz Maytag, called Liberty Ale. Its name and label commemorated the 200th anniversary of Paul Revere's ride. But it is remembered for what was in it: generous helpings of Cascade hops, an essential craft-beer ingredient that's now in short supply, The Wall Street Journal reported on June 25.
Cascade hops were the first American-made aroma hops, and Liberty Ale was the first commercial craft-beer to use them. Hops, the flowers of the hop plant, have been since the Middle Ages beer's primary flavoring agent. They are generally added for two reasons: to make beer bitter and to give it a certain bouquet. Before Cascade, only European hops were considered worthy enough to be used for aroma. American hops were used only for bittering.
The citrusy-smelling Cascade changed that. Liberty Ale began what has become in recent years the most popular craft-beer style in the U.S.: the modern India pale ale or IPA. IPAs originated in England in the 19th century. While the English likely added a lot of hops to help keep the beer fresh on long sea voyages to India (hence the name), Americans a century later added hops to satisfy consumers thirsty for bitter beer.
Liberty Ale was about four times more bitter than Miller Lite, also introduced in 1975. The modern IPAs—and double IPAs and triple IPAs and quadruple IPAs—are many times more bitter than Liberty, with more alcohol as well.
The popularity of hopped-up beers has led to a serious hops shortage in the U.S. That shortage drove the average price for all hops to $3.59 a pound in 2013, up from $1.88 in 2004, according to the nonprofit Hop Growers of America. The Washington-based merchant 47 Hops warned this spring that choicer hops, including Cascade, "will likely be over $10 a pound" by the end of 2014.
This spells trouble for smaller craft brewers, who produce fewer than 15,000 barrels annually. The increasing cost of hops could put them out of business—ironically, amid steady growth for the industry.
After nearly 50 years in the marketplace, craft-beer still accounts for fewer than 15% of annual sales in the approximately $100 billion American beer market. But craft beer's market share cracked 5% in 2011, and by 2012 it hit 7.8%, according to the Brewers Association, a trade group.
The last thing the industry needs is to pay more for a key ingredient. In the short term, that seems inevitable. But what can be done in the long term?
The greater demand for hops has come amid a decline in supply from Oregon, Washington and Idaho, the nation's top hop-growing states. This was thanks to a global hops glut a few years ago that spurred growers to pull back at what turned out to be exactly the wrong time, given the rise in popularity of hoppier beers. In Oregon, the birthplace of Cascade, more than 300 hop acres have disappeared since 2004. The state now has 4,786 acres, a significant drop from the 10-year peak of 6,370 acres in 2008.
Other states could fill this vacuum. New York, for instance, led the U.S. in hop cultivation until a 19th-century blight and Prohibition killed the industry. The Empire State is making a quiet comeback: There were about 140 acres of hops in New York in 2013. But the costs remain prohibitively high for some farmers, not least because they often have to wait at least three years for hop bines to start producing. Local and state economic-development incentives, similar to those often doled out for the construction of jobs-bringing breweries, as well as more federal help through Agriculture Department research, could offset these costs.
Finally, craft brewers might be able to help themselves. There is already a movement toward less hoppy, lower-alcohol beers—what some call "session beers," because you can drink a few without getting too drunk. This is what most of the popular craft brands used to be before the rise of the IPA. These appeal to a wider consumer audience, including those who might be unfamiliar with craft beer—and unlikely to approach it through a hoppy, superstrong IPA.
More of these beers with fewer hops may give farmers time to catch up and take the pressure off smaller breweries to produce hop-heavy signatures or die. American beer stylistically is now the envy of the drinking world—no small feat given that a generation ago Big Beer defined the nation's beer as thin, yellow and cheap. No one wants to see that dominance come to a bitter end.
27 June, 2014
