Andy Crouch visits nearly 100 breweries and reports back on your best bets

When I caught up with the very dedicated beer connoisseur Andy Crouch, he was on the steps of a courthouse with sirens blaring past in the background. This is daily life for the author, whose day job is practicing criminal law in Boston. By weekend, however, he has managed to do what many of us dream of—he’s a freelance writer who’s made it his business to visit the nearly 100 craft brewing establishments in New England over the past year. In his new book, “The Good Beer Guide to New England,” he profiles each with its description and history, as well as insight into its brewmaster’s philosophy and brewing style. The author originally “discovered” beer while living in London—he says he tried Guinness for the first time on a Friday, and was in Dublin taking a brewery tour that weekend. Such an approach to beer ensures that everything you’d want to know before heading out to a destination brewery is included in the book, including sincere evaluations of food and ambience. His research culminates in his pick for each stop’s “best beer,” which may surprise fans of New England’s favorites.

How did you get started on this quest?
I started writing about beer professionally on a part-time basis about six years ago. I’ve written for dozens of publications over the years. I moved to New England about same time, and I really enjoyed traveling around, visiting breweries and meeting the people behind the product that I’ve enjoyed for so long. When I started meeting individuals, I realized they have great stories to tell. These are passionate, driven people. They’re not just making paint thinner, they’re making a product they really love. I looked around as I was traveling, and there really wasn’t a definitive guide to take with you, to just throw in back of your car. Around Portsmouth, I could go to the Portsmouth Brewery, to Redhook, or up the road to the Barley Pub in Dover. But how would I know that? I thought with my background and interest, I could do something definitive. 

When I first imagined the project, I was going to limit it to Massachusetts. But the more I looked, the more I thought about all of New England. I’m from Chicago originally, and this project never would have been possible in that area, it’s too big. Here, I thought something comprehensive was really the way to go, as there were breweries I loved in New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, Vermont and Rhode Island. Although, when you’re 50 or 60 breweries in, you begin to rethink what you’re doing.

Part of problem was that it was written and researched over a very short period of time, about eight months between when I signed the contract and when I turned in the draft. I thought I should really try to capture the industry as close to possible to the time when the reader would be reading the book. 

Did you manage to visit all the breweries for the book, or did you cheat with places you’d already visited?
I got good advice from other writers at the beginning about not only being comprehensive, but getting there and reporting from the source. I had been to about a third, and I went back and revisited them. That was helpful because I’d already developed a contact and knew what I wanted to write about. I got to meet with each of the owners and learn the stories behind the establishment. One or two didn’t return phone calls or the timing didn’t work out.

What about dealing the politics of the industry? That seems to crop up a lot, especially in regard to questions of authenticity and quality. 
I thought from the very start one of the things I wanted to do to set apart from a lot of travel books is that I wanted to be honest and candid, but also at some times critical. In any industry, about 10 percent of places excel beyond expectation. There’s another 10 percent that don’t get the job done, and 80 percent in between. Tour guides tend to gloss over the 10 percent that don’t get job done. That does the reader a disservice. If you’re going to travel to the further reaches of New England, you should know where the beer’s good and where it’s not good.

That’s been a great part of the readership response, how much the public has appreciated that information. Blue-collar people have come out to see me, and they took a half-day off work because they heard the book was critical and they appreciated a no-B.S. point of view.
 
Why do people’s tastes in beer vary so widely? Is it genetic?
I don’t believe there’s a person who doesn’t enjoy beer. They just haven’t found the beer that’s right for them. For those who grew up in America in the 1970s, beer is a cold, bland item used to refresh the palate. There’s not lot of flavor there. Since the 1980s and 1990s, the public perception of beer has changed radically. Beer is now made with coffee, with chocolate, with every type of fruit imaginable. Then there are some no one would enjoy, beers made with garlic, with peppercorn, with lavender buds. I think that taking it from the most basic elements of taste, if you enjoy coffee, there are certain porters or stouts that might surprise you. A lemon or clove-scented hefeweizen can’t be beat. Then there are the cherry or raspberry lambics. My mother grew up in the Midwest where Miller Lite was the main beer. Slowly but surely over years we have broken down the barriers. Some beers people don’t like, and that’s fine. You should always drink what you enjoy. With such a great diversity and range available to the public, I don’t believe there could be such a person as someone who doesn’t like beer.

What do you feel when you walk into a brewery?
For the best ones, you know it before you even get there. There’s the sweet smell of malt in the air outside. You sort of know you’re home at that point. And they can range from a very industrial warehouse environment, where they could be making widgets or beer. Or there can be an incredible aesthetic beauty, in a pastoral environment. But no matter where you go, it’s generally the people inside who make a brewery its own place. The best places are inviting, but offer a little bit of challenge in terms of flavor, food or environment, something a little different for their patrons. Really it’s the people behind the product. If you’ve never been on brew tour and you’re within reading distance of The Wire, there’s no excuse.

If you had to choose a single beer, what’s your New England favorite?
It’s like choosing between children. I always believe when people say that, they harbor one child they do love the best. In this case, I’m not sure I could limit to one brewery, but I could limit it to one state. I do love Vermont. They have some of the best stories and make some of the best beer. The Alchemist makes fantastic beer. Then there are crazier, more colorful places like McNeill’s in Brattleboro. These are places I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. … I love Moat Mountain in Conway. I go to the Portsmouth Brewery once every other month because I love the environment. I hope I’m never in a position where I can only go to one place, because diversity really spices up what we do.