First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and the Brewers Assocation, Part 9 of 9

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into this topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_____________

A Seattle journalist, Vince Cottone, fanned the flames by treating as fact the wholly unsubstantiated rumor that Jim Koch had won the event because he bribed festival-goers with free tickets. It was not true, but Cottone treated it as fact and used the occasion as an excuse to bash the GABF, the AOB, and anyone involved. The preference poll, he complained, “more resembled a cross between a wet T-shirt contest and a corrupt banana republic election than a rational judging of America’s beers.”

The GABF, he concluded, “has lost credibility, at least in the eyes of honest brewers . . . .” (*1) “Besides the winners, who profits from the festival?” Cottone asked. “There seems to be little benefit for most of the bona fide microbrewers whose beers are exhibited.” The only “real bounty,” he complained was “reaped by the Association of Brewers/AHA, for whom it is a money-maker besides being their biggest publicity generator.” (*2)

That was not true either --- years would pass before the GABF turned a profit --- but it was hard to convince outsiders of that. But Cottone missed a larger point: The Consumer Preference Poll was precisely that, a consumer poll. By no stretch of anyone’s imagination could it be regarded as a “rational judging” of new beers.

Professional blind tasting finally arrived at the GABF in 1987, but the damage had been done. Again, poor communication. There was a certain inevitability about the clash between the brewers and the staff at the AOB. No one doubted Papazian’s will, energy, and desire. But he had fallen almost by accident into his role as voice of the brewers, and there were times when he operated as if he were still teaching a homebrew class at the Boulder Free Community School and the microbrewers were his students.

They were not. Grossman, and Maytag, and others had invested everything --- both financially and emotionally --- in a risky venture. Like [nineteenth-century German-American brewers] Jacob Best and Valentine Blatz before them, the new generation of brewers could not afford to relax their vigilance; could not afford to sit back and let matters flow untended. Brewing was a tough world whose denizens arrived at profit only by hacking their way through a thicket of city, state, and federal laws; who struggled with suppliers more sued to filling orders for ten million bottles rather than ten gross.

Still, the AOB provided a home for brewers who otherwise had no place to go. Like many others, Larry Bell, who founded his Kalamazoo Brewing Company in 1985, attended a meeting [of the Brewers Association of America, the old-line brewing trade group for small and regional brewers] but found it “intimidating.”

Worse yet, no one there talked about things that mattered to him. The BAA held its meetings at a “fancy hotel” and the agenda focused on “political stuff, the tax differential, relations with BATF, relations with the wholesalers’ association.” (*3) Bell and others who were just getting off the ground didn’t “have time to deal with” those things. They needed and wanted information about “real life issues,” things like the names of suppliers willing to sell small quantities and how to “troubleshoot [their] cobbled engineering.” (*4)

_______________

SOURCES:

*1: Vince Cottone, “Beer & Loathing In Denver: The Great American Beer Festival 1986,” American Brewer (Summer 1987): 15.

*2: Ibid., 16.

*3: Larry Bell, interview with Maureen Ogle, May 2005.

*4: Ibid.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and Brewers Association, Part 8

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_____________

 Nowhere was that more obvious than at the Great American Beer Festival, which, in its early years, stood as a perfect example of the way the Boulder group blundered its way into situations without thinking them through. In 1984, to use one rather horrific example, Papazian and Bradford, moved the festival to capacious Currigan Exhibition Hall in Denver.

The forty-odd brewers who attended could not fill the enormous venue and the five thousand or so paid admissions could not cover the cost of renting and insuring it. The financial loss boarded on the catastrophic. The Association borrowed money to cover not just that loss but basic operating expenses; a board member offered his own house as collateral.

Nor was the event particularly well-managed. Bert Grant arrived at the 1987 festival to find his entire stock of bottled ale buried in cases of ice. He “immediately began yanking bottles out of the ice and onto the table, dripping water everywhere.‘Jesus Christ, we need a bottle warmer not an ice chest,’” he yelled at the young volunteer assigned to his booth. She fled. (*1)

In 1988, the program was miscollated, thereby omitting a chunk of the alphabetical list of attending brewers, and award winners left empty-handed because the medals had not arrived.

The most notorious example of whatever erupted over the GABF’s Consumer Preference Poll, in which festival-goers voted for their “favorite” beer. Sierra Nevada, the golden boy of craft brewing, won honors in the first poll in 1983. The following year, Grant took the top two places and contract brewer Matthew Reich came in third.

But the 1987 festival nearly drowned in rumors that the owners of two breweries purchased bulk quantities of admission tickets and then and doled them out to attendees in exchange for votes. The alleged offenders, Boulder Brewing and Koch’s Boston Beer, placed first and second, respectively, in that year’s consumer preference poll. Daniel Bradford exacerbated the situation with what can only be described as ill-chosen words: “‘Without the bulk ticket sales we would not have made money.’” (*2)

Bradford later retracted the statement, but the damage had been done. Grant told Bradford that unless the awards were withdrawn, he, Grant, would refuse to participate again, and would organize a boycott of the event. Bradford explained that there had been “‘no flagrant disobedience of the rules and guidelines,’” which were, he admitted, “‘terribly flawed,’” for which he blamed himself. (*3)

Had he left the matter there, perhaps the black cloud would have drifted away. Instead he backpeddled, explaining away his comment about the bulk ticket sales as a “whimsical” attempt to “‘lighten the atmosphere.’” (*4)

_____________________

SOURCES: *1: Vince Cottone, “Movement in the Right Direction: The Great American Beer Festival,” American Brewer (Fall 1987): 28.

*2: Ibid., 29.

*3: Ibid., 30.

*4: Ibid.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and the Brewers Association, Part 7

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience.

As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience. On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_____________

See also Charlie Papazian's commentary on this entry.

A classic blunder unfolded in the fall of 1986. The Association of Brewers [the new name of the group’s craft brewing arm] planned to hold its annual microbrewery conference in Portland, Oregon, a wise choice given the proliferation of small brewers there.

The schedule included tours of the city’s brewhouses but Papazian announced that without consulting first with the owners, who, no surprise, regarded this as a blatant attempt “to dictate dates and times” that they were expected to host visitors. (*1)

Four Portland brewers faced him down, refusing to abide by Papazian’s schedule and threatening to allow no tours unless he “backed off.” “‘We demanded, and got, a formal apology,” as well as free conference passes for each brewer’s employees.

Still, the damage had been done. The “‘whole thing left a sour taste,’” said Karl Ockert, the brewmaster at one of the four shops, “‘and we felt like it [the conference] had been imposed on us.’” (*2) Papazian, Bradford, and other staff were nothing more than a

“‘pretentious bunch of hypists, presuming to dictate to us when and how we should do them favors. And they’ve appointed themselves as our so-called representatives without any legitimate qualifications. Even their magazine [New Brewer] has no substance. They’re running a scam that’s riding the brewers’ coattails.’” (*3)

Strong words, those, but ones with a kernel of truth. No one at Boulder--not Papazian, not Bradford, not Charlie Matzen--had any qualifications for representing a booming and volatile industry. Neither the AHA nor the [craft brewing trade group] were professional organizations in the conventional sense of the word.

Mostly, Daniel Bradford acknowledged, the Boulder empire was “run by zealots” operating on “passion” and “emotion”; “amateurs doing professional work” and producing a “loosey goosey” mishmash of ideas and ambitions. (*4) The lack of professionalism at Boulder tainted nearly everything the group did, as did a chronic lack of communication that was one part arrogance, two parts naivete, and six parts incompetence spawned by inexperience.

____________

SOURCES:

*1: Vince Cottone, “Beer & Loathing in Denver: The Great American Beer Festival 1986,” American Brewer, Summer 1987, p. 17.

*2: Ibid., 17.

*3: Ibid., 16.

*4: Daniel Bradford, interview with Maureen Ogle, April 28, 2005.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and the Brewers Association, Part 6

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full. For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_____________

See also Charlie Papazian's comments on this segment.

Another Institute-inspired program made more sense, but it, too, backfired and for many of the same reasons. Papazian and the board knew that one way to raise money was to increase the AHA’s membership and thereby earn more revenue from dues and sales of Zymurgy.

Thus the “road shows.” The Institute created a package of programs with titles like “The World of Beer”; “Advanced Homebrewing”; and “The Good (Bad) Beer Clinic.” A host group, such as a homebrew club, paid travel expenses for Papazian, who presented the selected topic. These events promoted homebrewing and the AHA’s various wings and arms and, in theory, attracted new dues-paying members.

A typical road-trip was Papazian’s appearance at a Washington, D. C. event co-sponsored by the AHA and a local brewing club, Brewers United for Real Potables (BURP). A “standing-room-only crowd” of over a hundred people jammed a hotel meeting room to hear Papazian discuss homebrewing and watch two Pennsylvania men, identified only as Suds and Dregs so as to protect their jobs, taste BURP members’ beers. The two tasters expressed their disappointment at the “crass commercialism” of the event, a reference to booths where suppliers sold malt and hops, t-shirts, and books.

But the crowd was enthralled by Papazian, who made homebrewing “so easy that one wondered by anyone would buy beer.” “‘The question isn’t how hard it is,’” Papazian assured the audience, “‘It’s how easy it is.’” No word on whether he advised the troops to relax and have a homebrew. (*1)

Vintage Papazian and a classic example of the Institute’s modus operandi: Wow the crowd with beer. Attach a face to homebrewing and emphasize the hobby’s simplicity. Last but not least, make sure a major newspaper (in this case, the Washington Post) covers the event.

But to outsiders--anyone who was not ensconced in Papazian’s inner circle--the jaunts looked like grandstanding and, worse, as though Papazian was touring the globe on the AHA’s dime. He was not. The host group paid Papazian’s travel expenses and the “jaunts” were anything but. He had to meet, greet, speak, hobnob, trying to persuade people to jump on the homebrew wagon.

Still, the travel left Papazian and the AHA “open to criticism that he was spending money on himself.” (*2) Even AHA board members challenged Papazian’s absences from the office; some resented what looked like the glamorous life of trips to Europe, to New York, Los Angeles. But Papazian refused to budge, arguing that “expanding the base was more important than his reputation.”

Eventually the directors decided that each board member must attend at least one “offsite conference outside Boulder” so that they could learn “what kind of work was being done” at the events. One trip, and even the most skeptical board member agreed that Papazian’s road trips hardly constituted pleasure tours.

Then there was Papazian’s book. During the 1980s, royalties provided Papazian with most of his personal income. But even that played against him, again because of poor management. Advertisements for Joy of Brewing appeared in nearly every issue of Zymurgy, but the AHA never profited from any of its sales. Nor did the organization profit from Papazian’s later books, all of them written on what amounted to company time.

“We talked openly about the possible conflict,” one board member said later, but talk is not the same thing as action and once again the AHA and the Institute allowed negative perception to fester. “We could have done a better job with PR,” Matzen admitted.

______________

SOURCES: *1: All quotes from Angus Phillips, “Home Brew is Best, Say Purists,” Washington Post, September 30, 1984, p. C3.

*2: Charlie Matzen interview with Maureen Ogle, June 8, 2005. All remaining quotes are from Matzen interview.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Hombrewers Association and the Brewers Association, Part 5

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew. In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Association, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

____________________________________________________________________

See also Charlie Papazian's commentary on this blog entry.

So Papazian forged on. In early 1983, he and his staff launched the Institute for Fermentation and Brewing Studies, created to foster “the education of homebrewers, commercial microbrewers and all those interested in quality beer and brewing.” (*1)

Translated into action, the IFBS consisted of two things: First, New Brewer, a glossy magazine geared to microbrewers, with articles on everything from marketing, label design, and trademark law, to water treatment, hop varieties, and yeast. Second, an annual conference devoted entirely to microbrewing.

All of it--the beer festival, the expanded conference, and especially the new magazine--represented a huge risk. Non-profit organizations must file a mission statement. The AHA’s informed the world that it existed for “literary and educational purposes, in order to benefit homebrewers of beer and all those interested in homebrewing.” (*2) A generous soul could construe the beer festival as “educational” for homebrewers. A conference devoted in part to educating would-be commercial brewers stretched the meaning of the mission.

But it also represented insomnia-inducing financial risk --- which is why Papazian dived into the expanded mission. In late 1982, the AHA boasted a mere 2,500 members. Their $12.00 membership fee, which included a subscription to Zymurgy, brought in a mere $30,000 each year, hardly enough to pay Papazian’s salary, a pittance at $300 a month (the equivalent of about $600 today), let alone Bradford’s wages, printing costs, electricity, and rent.

A more conservative person would have pulled the reins, and a less ambitious man would have given up and shut the doors. Papazian knew how to stretch a dollar --- he was notorious among his friends for his frugal ways --- and his grasp was exceeded only by his ambition.

So he forged on, creating new programs, adding new activities. Unfortunately, these ventures more often than not won Papazian more enemies than friends and so counted as mixed blessings.

Consider the “Affiliated Business Membership,” introduced in 1983. The ABM was a new AHA membership category aimed at homebrew shop owners and the companies that supplied them with goods and materials, such as carboys, hop packets, yeast, rubber tubing and the like. Papazian described the ABM as “a way for businesses to increase their sales of homebrew products with carefully researched information about products, equipment and brewing techniques.” The AHA, he explained

has already devoted substantial amounts of time and energy to researching what is best for the customer and business. We wish to share this information with you. (*3)

Lovely. Wonderful. Just one problem: this was precisely what the HWBTA had been doing for years. The homebrewing trade didn’t need another trade organization, and shop owners and supplies manufacturers resented the implication that Charlie Papazian knew more than they did about what was “best for the customer and business.”

In the end, the Affiliated Membership earned zero dollars for Papazian’s group and confirmed the general mistrust that many HWBTA members felt toward the Boulder contingent.

Patrick Baker had already discovered that. After Papazian founded the AHA, Baker, who belonged to both the HWBTA and the AHA, urged members of the trade group to hold their annual meeting at the same time and place as the AHA so that shop owners could attend both. His suggestion “got nowhere,” because, his fellow retailers told him, “they just didn’t trust Charley [sic], and didn’t want to deal with the AHA.” (*4)

_______________

SOURCES:

*1: “The Institute for Fermentation and Brewing Studies,” Zymurgy 6, no. 2 (Summer 1983): 2.

*2: Corporate statement published on each masthead page starting with volume 3, no. 1, Spring 1980.

*3: “Affiliated Business Membership--An Open Letter,” Zymurgy 6, no. 2 (Summer 1983): 2.

*4: Patrick Baker, response to email interview with Maureen Ogle, June 17, 2005.

First Draft Follies: Early History of the American Homebrewers Association and the Brewers Association, Part 4

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three --- Part Four Part Five --- Part Six --- Part Seven --- Part Eight --- Part Nine

Welcome to this edition of First Draft Follies, an ongoing series here at the blog. The material is presented “as is” from the first draft of the manuscript that became the book Ambitious Brew.In a few places I added one or two words in brackets — [like this] — for clarification. As always, when the excerpt is lengthy, and this one is, I break it into manageable bits and post those bits over the course of several days.

This edition of FDF concerns the early years of the American Homebrewers Association and what is now the Brewers Assocation, the craft brewing trade group. Much of my research into the topic fell into “insider baseball” information: interesting to those who were involved, and to people with a serious interest in brewing history, but dull as rocks to a more general audience. As a result, almost none of what follows ended up in the book, which was intended for a general audience.

On the other hand, the groups' early histories provide fascinating insight into the creation of a organization from the ground up, particularly the conflicts that ensued between and among the participants. As a result, I think it’s worth posting this (long) series in full.

For more about the founding of the AHA, see my earlier string of First Draft Follies entries on that topic. (The link takes you to part six of the six-part series; it contains links to parts one through five.)

_________________________________________________________

For Charlie Papazian's comments on this entry here and here.

And what the AHA needed in early 1982 was someone to manage the million details that combined to produce the first Great American Beer Festival. Papazian planned the event to coincide with the annual homebrewing competition and the second “conference” on both homebrewing and microbrewing. "In sponsoring this event,” wrote Stuart Harris, the Zymurgy reporter who covered microbrewing,

the American Homebrewers Association hopes to bring public attention to the micro-brewery industry and provide a forum where brewers and would-be brewers may exchange ideas and information about the industry. (*1)

The GABF was not the nation’s first national beer festival. That honor belongs, most likely, to the German Alps Festival, which began in the early seventies in the Catskills. By the late seventies, it was attracting 300,000 people who sampled well over a hundred brands of domestic and imported brews.

The GABF was, however, the first beer event designed to showcase American beer in general and the new “micro” brews in particular. The debut proved a modest affair, which was about all that Papazian and his tiny crew could manage. The festival featured “1000 gallons of lagers, ales, stouts and porters,” a handful of “small” brewers, and ran just four hours on the Friday night of the first day of that year’s conference. (*2)

Papazian sandwiched the event in between the annual homebrewing competition and the brewing conference which, by the spring of 1982, had grown into a two-day affair. The organizers devoted day one to commercial brewing, with panels on packaging, bacteria control, and marketing and legal issues that small brewers could expect to face. Michael Lewis from UC-Davis spoke.

So did Michael Jackson, joined by David Bruce, who was single-handedly reinventing the British brewing-pub.That last exemplified Papazian’s ability to see around the curve in the road: brewpubs were about to become the Next Big Thing in small American brewing.

Whatever niggling doubts Papazian had about the wisdom of these new ventures were laid to rest in November, 1982, when he attended the annual meeting of the Brewers’ Association of America. (*3) He knew few people at the meeting, and although some of the small brewers welcomed his presence, he felt “uncomfortable” and “out of place.”

But he was nothing if not a genius when it came to seeing opportunity, and he came away convinced that regional and small beermakers were “doing their own thing,” and that “their thing” was “totally irrelevant” to the homebrewers and microbrewers he had met at the AHA conferences. (*4)

It was true that the AHA annual conference had become a “focal point” for homebrewers thinking about investing in commercial brewing. It’s not so clear that the new brewers themselves agreed with Papazian’s claim of ownership to their industry, or his assessment of the BAA as irrelevant.

The two most successful microbrewers, Ken Grossman and Fritz Maytag, for example, both joined the BAA because they regarded themselves not as homebrewers grown large but as real brewers and so part of the larger industry. The BAA’s membership may have shrunk, along with its budget, but [the BAA's director] Bill O’Shea, in his late seventies and in failing health, continued to provide what service he could for his dwindling troops: lobbying, good relations with behemoths like Anheuser-Busch, and keeping abreast of new tax laws and regulatory burdens. What the BAA needed in the early eighties was new blood; men like Grossman and Maytag provided it.

Charlie Papazian understood nothing of that. He regarded microbrewing as an “extension of homebrewing,” and therefore a logical extension of the AHA. (*5) Tax issues? Labeling laws? Relax and have a homebrew.

___________________

SOURCES:

* 1: Stuart Harris, “Update,” Zymurgy 5, no. 1 (Spring 1982): 18.

*2: Advertisement for 1982 conference and competition, Zymurgy 5, no. 1 (Spring 1982): 20.

*3: The Brewers Association of America was organized in the early 1940s to represent the nation's small, regional beermakers.

*4: Charlie Papazian, interview with Maureen Ogle, April 27, 2005.

*5: Charlie Papazian, “How Many Apples Does It Take to Make a Pie?,” Zymurgy 5, no. 4 (Winter 1982): 2.