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You're
about to embark on a journey. A journey into a wonderful world filled
with ales and lagers, hops and yeast. A journey into the world inhabited
by an elite micro-beer known to a select group…call them beer aficionados,
if you will. The type of people who prefer the taste of a top brewed
specialty ale or the robust flavor of a bottom brewed kick-ass lager.
The type of people that buy their beer to consume and enjoy, not
rent and piss like the spiked water that most domestic beers embody.
The mass-produced common macro-beer whose names are pounded into
the unsuspecting public's fragile eggshell minds through TV, radio,
magazines, and billboards. Drinking that type of beer is like making
love in a canoe...fucking close to water. We're going to find out
about real beer. Beer with guts, flavor, and the alcohol level necessary
to communicate on the same level with The Creator. I'm talking about
Three Floyd's Beer and I'm talking with John Freyer, one of the
original owners of the Three Floyd's Brewery.
I
first met John when he contacted me, through my ad in The Tap, to
illustrate t-shirts for the antique baseball league that that he's
involved with. Then I found out that we had something in common
besides baseball…beer. Since my cartoon Interstellar Guano appears
in The Tap, and John is involved with a mighty tasty micro-beer,
I thought that I'd have a go at writing an article about the business.
I mean, what the hell. I'm not getting paid for it so the budget
isn't in peril. Besides, I might learn something. John agreed and
we met at a loud restaurant on Southport to discuss the micro-brew
industry over lunch.
I
learned the first rule of conducting an interview in a restaurant
with a tape recorder. Go to a quiet restaurant. Although there weren't
many customers in the joint, the music was loud enough to be on
the verge of annoying. Especially when I'm recording an interview.
This wouldn't be bad if I was, say, 20 years younger and drunk.
Maybe I should just get drunk for the next interview I conduct.
The
first thing we did was picking out a table away from the other customers,
which consisted mainly of four salesmen talking way too loud. They
were probably drunk. Come to think of it, John and I were the only
sober ones in the place, and I was the one who walked in carrying
a six-pack of beer. Three Floyd's beer, but more of that later.
I set the beer that John had graciously given me on the floor next
to our high top table by the window and asked our waitress how much
for a pack of cigarettes. After finding out their price was six
dollars I excused myself to go the convenience store down the street.
They charged me $5.40. I only saved sixty cents, and walking is
healthy, but paying six bucks for a pack is absurd. Quit? I'd rather
roll my own.
I
borrowed two packs of matches to put under the table legs so that
it would stop rocking. My coffee was poured, John got a soda, my
cigarette was lit, our sandwiches ordered, and I was now ready to
find out about Three Floyds beer, the history of beer in the United
States and the micro brew industry itself.
Bill:
So John, let's start out with how you got involved with Three Floyd's.
John:
I'm one of the original owners of Three Floyd's. Well, not one of
the original owners, but very early on. I was with them on a full
time basis since, what was it, '98... at this point I handle the
sales and marketing.
Bill:
When did Three Floyd's start?
John:
It started in November of '96. I came on board in January of '98,
so it was about a year after they started. Other than Nick Floyd,
I'm still there. Nick's one of the last original employee's.
Bill:
So it was actually named after humans.
John:
Yeah, Mike Floyd, Nick Floyd and Simon Floyd. That's how they started
off. A father and two sons'. That's the Three Floyd's. I knew Nick
from years ago when I used to distribute a beer called Golden Prairie,
which was a local micro-brew. It was probably one of the first micros
on the market. Nick was an assistant brewer at Golden Prairie and
we just kind of became friends and hung out.
Bill:
What's the history of micro brewed beer? Up until the 80's all you
could get other than the usual domestics were Heineken, St. Pauli
Girl and Becks.
John:
Don't forget Lowenbrau. I swear, to impress your girlfriend you'd
bring her a Lowenbrau, back in the day. The microbreweries started
happening in California around '83. Sierra Nevada was really one
of the first micro-beers to come out, although Anchor Steam was
there before then. It took a long time for it to get here. Like
any other west coast beer it took about five years.
Bill:
What brought about micro-brews in the 80's and not before?
John:
There were changes in the law's back then. Particularly for the
brewpubs. Those got changed in the late 70's and people started
saying: "Hey, you mean I can make my own beer at home?" That's what
really started it. Plus the fact that there weren't many breweries
left. Big breweries were buying out little breweries, like the big
fish eating the little fish. I think there were about 27 breweries
left in the whole country right before the micro revolution came.
Bill: So how do you start a microbrewery?
John:
It's a tough industry to get into. I've seen several good people
fail that had fantastic business plans and lot's of money. It's
a very competitive thing, like anything else. You don't think you're
competing with Budweiser, but you are. Five years ago you wouldn't
think that way, but you're buying for a person's consumption so
it really hurts your ability to get business without having to...
Bill:
...shell out over a million bucks for an ad during the Superbowl.
John:
Yeah, right. That type of stuff. The most difficult part of a microbreweries
business is getting out the initial sampling. Getting the people
to try it. Having the beer tastings. Then if the beer is good enough
the people will go seek it out. I've seen breweries come in with
marketing concepts saying, "We're going to do this", or "We're going
to do that" and all when it comes down to it the beer sucks. Then
they're scratching their heads saying "How come this didn't work?"
It takes a lot more than just putting something in a bottle and
assuming that it will sell. Right now we've got a shakeout of what
happened in the '90's, where everybody in the world had a brewery
and wanted to be in six packs and they all wanted to be in Chicago
at the same time. It's like a tic. It grew and grew and grew until
it finally popped and the aftermath now is that when you do have
quality beer consumption they're all mostly regionals and more imports
and things like that. The little brewer in a small town shouldn't
be in the Chicago market because it's a crowded market. A lot of
micro breweries have come to Chicago and have real high expectations
because there's seven million people here, but the reality is that
it's not a specialty market as good as the west coast or Boston.
Most people here drink Miller or Bud. At least my friends do.
Bill:
How you think it's more advantageous for a micro-beer to get a name
for itself? To advertise first, or to first get the beer out in
front of the consumer?
John:
I'd rather spend money on tasting's and festivals. For me to have
my stuff work I need people to sample it. To take their first sip
of Alpha King and go "Wow, I've never had anything like that beer
before." Those are the reactions that we want from people. At this
point I think people have misconceptions about microbreweries. It's
like anything else. It was such a fad in the '90's and everyone
got kind of burnt out on it. Even myself. I've bought a six-pack
for seven bucks, brought it home and it tastes like crap. I've just
wasted seven bucks. You've got to save it for your brother-in-law
to come over and be like "Oh yeah, I've got something special for
ya'."
Bill:
I used to teach bartending and we had a list of beer terminology
with the beer falling under Ale, Bock, Lager, Malt Liquor, Pilsner,
Porter and Stout. Do you consider those categories or styles of
beer?
John:
There are two categories and everything essentially comes off of
that. Ale and Lager. Ale's are top fermented; Lager's are bottom
fermented. Porter and Stout would fall under the auspices of Ale,
whereas in the Lager category you'd find Bock beer and dark lagers.
A Weiss is actually Ale, so it's a top fermented beer. A lot of
people think it's a Lager but it's actually Ale.
Bill:
Stupid fools.
John:
Of all the world's styles there are ten times more ales produced
than there are lagers but the lagers take up ninety percent of the
world's consumption. I have a theory on that, if you'd like to hear
my theory...
Bill:
Of course. John: If you look at the history of the United States,
English settled the east coast in the sixteen and seventeen hundreds
and they made Ale. The Midwest...Milwaukee, Chicago, Detroit, were
mostly settled by Europeans. The kinds of beer that they liked to
make were lagers and pilsners. The west coast didn't have any refrigeration
in the 1890's so the only type of beer that they could make out
there was steamed beer. It would be brewed and left out over night,
bottled up and it would look like steam coming off a keg. You're
from Michigan so you were probably weaned on Stroh's. I'm from here
so I was weaned on Schlitz, Pabst, Dreweries…beer like that. It's
the style of beer that we all grew up on that we get used to. Golden
in color, kind of sweet. So the people in Chicago still drink Old
Style, Miller and Bud. The corn lager that you grew up with. So
the outside brewers that come here with a highly hopped beer, or
the regular pale ale, have a hard time taking a foothold here. First
of all, Chicagoans aren't real big ale drinkers and second of all
there's over a hundred different ales out there.
Waitress: [Brings food] Can I get you anything else?
Bill:
More coffee, please.
John:
I'm okay.
[Waitress cleans ashtray, then exits]
Bill:
How many beers does Three Floyd's have?
John:
Right now it's about sixteen. We're looking at new beer all the
time. Nick Floyd is a creative brewer. He'll get a wild hair and
be like "I want to make a Lambic" so he'll go and make it.
Bill:
So he comes up with all of the recipes?
John:
He's got a real good head brewer. Nick does more than just brew.
He's got a head brewer, Jim Cidak, and he's one of the best microbrewers
that I've ever met. He's meticulous. A true artisan. Beer is the
kind of thing you can't rush. There's no shortcut. Particularly
if you want to maintain a consistent quality level. Cidak's all
about that. We hired him in May of last year, I don't know. Time
gets away from me. It was either May of last year or May of the
year before.
Bill:
Who was your head brewer before?
John:
Nick Floyd was.
Bill:
So it still stayed in the family when Jim came on?
John:
As time goes on everyone gets different responsibilities. Nick has
to do a lot of stuff. We're doing tours out there. Nick handles
it all. A lot of the marketing, planning, development, and making
speeches. That's why we have Jim on board, to kind of take over
the brewing, which leaves Nick to help do other things.
Bill: Out of your sixteen beers, how many are on tap?
John:
All but two.
Bill:
That's good. When I'm in a bar and want to know the beer selection,
the tap handles come in handy. If I want to try a new beer, a cool
looking handle really helps.
John:
It's funny you should mention that. I don't know if you've ever
seen our handles but we've got really crazy ones, and that's one
reason we've designed them to be like that. I went to Sheffield's
one time after a Cubs game. I'm sitting there, minding my own business.
People keep on coming up after a Cubs game "What's on that blue
handle?" It's the only blue handle up there. Everything else was
like, white, red, and wood. One girl comes up and orders what's
on the blue handle. "I'll take one of those." I asked; "Why did
you buy that beer. Have you ever had Three Floyd's before?" "No,
this is my first time. I like the blue handle." So what starts going
on in the back of my head is how people are color conscious for
one, and then you start talking to people about what beer they like.
It's like, the colors. The way it looks. So with our handles it's
basically sales persuasion without being there.
Bill:
Is it the same thing with the label when they're looking at it on
the shelf?
John:
Right. That's why we design the packaging the way we do. A lot of
people think it's ugly, or cryptic, whatever, but people notice
it on the shelf. The whole idea is to have someone walk over to
your six-pack.
Bill:
How many stores and bars is Three Floyd's carried in Chicago?
John:
Tons.
Bill:
Gobs and gobs?
John:
We're everywhere. Out in the suburbs it's more high spotted. Liquor
chains, that type of stuff. You know, good beer bars, good beer
restaurants. In the city I would say that we're between the river
and Irving Park and Western to the Lake. About fifty percent of
our sales come out of that area. Then Indianapolis is really picking
up for us. We've got a really good distributor down there. They're
really running with it.
Bill:
How long does it take to make beer?
John:
Lagers take much longer than ales. That's one reason that we don't
release many lagers. It takes up too much tank time and when you've
only got three tanks you want to keep turning them over. For us
to make money, the faster you have to turn these tanks over. We're
in a mode now that as soon as these beers get kegged they're out
the door by the next week. It helps us maintain freshness. With
the Octoberfest, we kegged it around the first week in September.
We sponsored an October fest out in Munster. We went through half
the beer, something like forty kegs, and that's all I've got. So
it turns over pretty quickly. A lot of the batches, especially the
specialty stuff, we make one batch up so when it's gone - it's gone.
You missed it so you've missed it. Particularly last year we had
the Alpha Klaus. It's our English Porter and we make it with English
chocolates and Mexican molasses and it went like gangbusters. People
tried it and said "We've gotta' have more." Every place that had
it blew through a keg of it in a day or two and we only made twenty
kegs of it so by the time Thanksgiving came around we had people
yelling at us "You've gotta' have more of that" and we were like
"We only made one batch" so this year...
Bill:
...you're making two.
John:
Yeah, this year we'll make two batches.
Bill:
You've told us how long it takes to ferment. How long does it keep
on the shelf while you're waiting for you brother-in-law to come
over?
John:
A long time. Our kegs are probably good for six months to a year.
The heavier beers will last longer. Our shelf life, I'm confident
in saying, is a good year. Also it's the amount of hops. Hops act
as a preservative, and we have so many hops in our beers. Of course,
like anything else, you want to drink the beer fresher, like when
it comes out.
Bill:
I don't drink to get messed up. I drink for the flavor. Of course,
the more I like the flavor, the more messed up I get.
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