Most craft brewers couldn’t imagine life without IPA. But at the Spoetzl Brewery in Shiner, Texas, the vast majority of sales come from a very different beer style.
“Seven out of every 10 beers we sell is Shiner Bock,” says Nick Weiland, the brewery’s brand director. “Local craft breweries around the state, they’re making Bocks, and when their fans come there and they want to drink a Bock, they can have one. It’s great for the style. And it’s great for Texas.”
Although the dominance of India Pale Ale has led to memes, rants, and Reddit posts about craft beer’s homogeneity, the U.S. craft beer scene is a lot more varied than it might appear. Across the country, various beer styles that have nothing to do with highly hopped ales have carved out a share — and sometimes an entire scene — for themselves. In those pockets of regionality, amber lagers, Scotch Ales, fruited sours, traditional beers, and other recipes are almost as popular as IPAs. Occasionally, they even represent the best-selling craft beer on the market.
So how do these regional beer favorites come about? And how can craft brewers, publicans, and beer lovers help create a sense of place when it comes to what’s on tap? Although there’s no single answer, many regions with local beer styles share key elements, including market leaders, a specific local climate or culture, and a strong sense of identity.
Fitting the Culture and Climate
For Weiland, Shiner Bock is a natural fit for the Lone Star State, though he acknowledges that a Bock in Texas is slightly different from what the term signifies elsewhere. That mostly has to do with strength: Shiner Bock has just 4.4 percent ABV, while a typical German Bock is usually north of 6 percent. (Think of a Texas Bock as a variation on amber lager and you’re on the right track.) The style’s easy-drinking strength and malty body make it a good pairing for some of the state’s favorite meals.
“It’s such a perfect fit with barbecue,” Weiland says. “If you just have a light lager, it’s going to get lost in the smoke flavor, the black pepper, and the tanginess. I think if you were just designing a beer specifically for barbecue, you’d probably end up with something pretty close to Shiner Bock.”
In addition, the style’s sweetness can help tame the spiciness of Mexican cuisine, much like the dark and amber lagers from across the border. And its light, refreshing character is certainly appreciated in a state that can have multiple months with 100-degree temperatures.
While the Bock style might have local popularity, it generally isn’t one of the “core four” beers at most small breweries in Texas, according to Caroline Wallace, executive director of the Texas Craft Brewers Guild. That said, she quickly names a handful of local takes on the style beyond Shiner, including those from Real Ale Brewing, Texas Beer Company, Galveston Bay Brewing, and Free Tail, all part of a larger trend toward Central European styles.
“We’ve seen just a huge rise of high quality lager beer coming out of Texas,” she says. “Texas has a very strong German and Czech heritage. It’s a warm climate. Lagers are extremely popular.”
“I think that the dirty little secret of Montana is that we like our beers a little sweeter than we want to admit. I mean, I love IPAs. I drink them all the time. But I think the biggest segment of drinkers like a slightly sweet, smooth beer.”
It also helps that Shiner Bock has been around to serve as an example, in at least a couple of ways. Drinkers who aren’t super into beer usually know Shiner’s version, which makes another brewery’s Bock an easy sell that doesn’t require a lot of customer education. In addition, the state’s biggest Bock maker also inspired many guild members when they were first getting into beer.
“I heard from several folks that said that Shiner Bock specifically was a gateway craft beer for them,” she says. “It was the first beer they ever tried that wasn’t an American light lager, something a bit more full-flavored, which served as a transitional beer to other fuller-flavored craft beers.”
Some 2,000 miles away, another breakout beer has led to a local style trend. Hopheads might find it hard to believe, but KettleHouse Brewing Company’s Cold Smoke — a breakout Scotch ale — ranks as the best-selling craft beer in Montana, outselling even the most popular IPAs, according to Nielsen scan data shared with VinePair. For the brewery’s brand engagement manager Al Pils, Cold Smoke simply fits with the local palate.
“I think that the dirty little secret of Montana is that we like our beers a little sweeter than we want to admit,” he says. “I mean, I love IPAs. I drink them all the time. But I think the biggest segment of drinkers like a slightly sweet, smooth beer. The commonality between a Coors Banquet and Cold Smoke is that they’re both a 10 IBU, malt-forward beer.”
It doesn’t hurt that the name has a connection to the powdery, light snow that Montana’s ski slopes are known for.
“When you’re ripping down a steep run on a powder day and there’s like a vapor trail behind you, that is referred to as ‘cold smoke,’” he says. “That’s kind of our hyperlocal term that just worked.”
As with Shiner and other Texas Bocks, more Scotch ales have arrived in the wake of Cold Smoke’s popularity, creating a noticeable bump for a style that is often impossible to find elsewhere. But as the state’s most popular craft beer, Cold Smoke is almost in a category of its own.
“My theory is that the more the common consumer gets their hand on a Kentucky Common, the more they can say, ‘Hey, I like this. And it’s awesome that this is ours.’”
“It’s on tap all over town, all over the state. And it’s sold in every grocery store and gas station across the great state of Montana,” he says. “I don’t know what the secret formula is. It probably sounds oversimplified, but I like to say that the market will chase quality. What we did with Cold Smoke is we made a great beer, and it accidentally turned into the market leader.”
Multiple Makers Create a Wave
Other regions have found their own styles without an obvious leader. When asked about the rebirth of Kentucky Common, longtime Louisville beer promoter Michael Moeller credits a handful of breweries, including Against the Grain, Dreaming Creek, and Apocalypse Brew Works, where owner Leah Dienes helped to create the modern style guidelines that were later picked up by others. The more recent spread of canned and bottled versions helped increase the style’s popularity.
“I think having it a little bit more mass-produced and onto the shelves at Kroger’s and Publix, that goes a long way,” he says. “My theory is that the more the common consumer gets their hand on a Kentucky Common, the more they can say, ‘Hey, I like this. And it’s awesome that this is ours.’”
A historic, pre-Prohibition beer style that resembles a dark cream ale, Kentucky Common went from effectively extinct less than a generation ago to receiving a public push as the official state beer of Kentucky in 2021. That hasn’t yet happened, Moeller says, but the style has only grown in popularity, with an annual festival dedicated to Kentucky Common taking place on the capitol grounds in Frankfort since 2022.
“Being hot as hell in Florida, using a Berliner Weiss as a base beer — low alcohol, good texture, acidic, dry — was just in and of itself cool to play with. And then we do have a lot of fruit.”
“That first year, we probably had 20 breweries, all with a Common on,” he says. Moeller estimates that about 45 of the roughly 90 breweries in Kentucky now brew the style at least once a year.
“Kentuckians are very proud people,” he says. “Basically, if something has Kentucky in the name, throughout the entire commonwealth, people will embrace it.”
Local identity also helped to push the sudden popularity of Florida Weisse a decade or so ago, though it came from a less prideful point. According to Khris Johnson, co-founder and brewer at Green Bench Brewing in St. Petersburg, the state was struggling to figure out its place in the craft beer world at the time.
“You’ve got to think about it in the context of the craft beer movement as a whole,” he says. “I mean, Florida early on was considered a beer wasteland.”
“It varies significantly, which means there is more space for other craft styles in some states, and less than others.”
The state’s beer scene had to come of age quickly. When Florida’s brewers started mixing local fruit into a Berliner Weisse, things took off. The style worked for Florida in a couple of ways, including the local climate and the availability of raw ingredients.
“Being hot as hell in Florida, using a Berliner Weiss as a base beer — low alcohol, good texture, acidic, dry — was just in and of itself cool to play with,” Johnson says. “And then we do have a lot of fruit.”
Soon, Floridians even started seeing brewers outside of Florida calling a fruited Berliner Weisse by the name “Florida Weisse.”
“It was wild,” he says. “We felt like we not only make good beer, but we can contribute to it in an important and respected way.”
Lessons for Craft Producers
If there are any important takeaways from the study of beer regionality, a big one might be that it doesn’t always last. At least as a term, “Florida Weisse” has faded.
“I think the branding side of that is for the most part gone,” Johnson says. “They’re generally just marketed as sours.”
It also shows that there can be different ways for breweries to find success. At the Brewers Association, staff economist Matt Gacioch is currently crunching the numbers on regional beer styles in preparation for an upcoming report. One of his early findings: Across the U.S., there are over 100 statistically significant examples of regionally popular beer styles, like Scotch Ale in Montana.
Additionally, while the broad IPA category generally does lead craft sales, it’s not a monolith. In some states, IPA does count for as much as 70 percent of craft beer sales. Elsewhere, it can be as little as 25 percent.
“It varies significantly, which means there is more space for other craft styles in some states, and less than others,” he says.
That kind of knowledge could help craft brewers find their way through a difficult market. Weiland notes that it doesn’t hurt to focus on something with wide appeal beyond hardcore IPA fans.
“It’s a little bit like politics,” he says. “You can go in one direction or the other, or you can try to find this middle ground that is recognizing we’re bringing everybody along with us and this is something that everybody can agree on.”