I love beer.
I don’t mean drinking beer while hanging out at the bar. I don’t mean downing a 12-pack while watching a football game.
I mean I love beer — the aroma, the flavor, the texture, the nuance. I like drinking beer at home, sometimes quietly and alone, so I can just sit with it and enjoy the moment. I find beer more interesting than wine and more accessible than whiskey; I won’t even bother comparing it to hard seltzer.
My beer habits are not unwieldy. It’s usually one a day. Sometimes two on weekends and very rarely three. But, also, sometimes, it’s none.
Still, I had grown curious about a break from alcohol, which I hadn’t had, at least beyond a few days, in probably 20 years. The annual ritual known as Dry January — a month without booze to kick off the new year — seemed like the perfect opportunity. At least I knew I wouldn’t be doing it alone.
Just two days of Dry January made me realize something important: what I like most about beer are the things mentioned above. Aroma. Flavor. Nuance. Texture. Alcohol just happens to help deliver those things, whether in a 4.7% Helles lager, a 7% India pale ale or a 12% barrel-aged stout. But alcohol itself? I didn’t miss it much at all.
And that leads to my most surprising takeaway: I plan to keep drinking nonalcoholic beer.
Most days through January, I had an NA beer (as it is known) or two. While I will go back to alcohol, quite likely Feb. 1, the benefits of not drinking alcohol — a month of quality sleep, 5 fewer pounds, a hard-to-pinpoint spring in my step, a touch more patience with my kids — left me thinking nonalcoholic beer can be a year-round way to moderate calories, carbohydrates and alcohol while still enjoying beer.
Once the flaccid domain of O’Doul’s and Sharp’s, the best NA beers have become so good and boast such authentic flavor and aroma that they can seamlessly replace the real thing. Some days, like a Tuesday when I want a pale ale while making dinner, an NA beer will scratch the itch. (It’s worth noting that “nonalcoholic” is not the same as “alcohol-free.” NA beer can have up to 0.5% alcohol in a 12-ounce serving.)
The prospect of incorporating NA beer into my routine going forward was unexpected, but it appears to reflect a trend.
Benj Steinman, editor of trade publication Beer Marketer’s Insights, said the early 1990s mark the last time nonalcoholic beer enjoyed a moment of prestige, when Anheuser-Busch pushed O’Doul’s and Miller got behind Sharp’s. Nonalcoholic beer climbed above 1% of beer sold in the United States.
That faded quickly, and nonalcoholic beer has mostly remained an afterthought. Last year, Steinman was curious, though cautious, about where the nonalcoholic space could be headed. A year later, he’s actively enthused about how the NA realm is unfolding.
“There’s something real with nonalcoholic beer that is surprising and intriguing,” he said last month. “It hit its peak a long time ago, but I don’t know how much ‘there’ there was then. This feels more real.”
Sales of nonalcoholic beer were up 24% in grocery, convenience and drugstores in 2021, according to market research firm IRI. While that may sounds like a revolution, there’s important context: It’s still just a sliver of the industry, about a half-percent of total beer sales. According to IRI, nonalcoholic beer accounted for $236 million of sales in 2021 — about 6% of last year’s hard seltzer sales.
So there’s miles to go until nonalcoholic beer becomes a cultural force. But the growth in recent years, in terms of both sales and the brands on shelves, is undeniable. Attitudes and perceptions are also shifting.
“Where it gets really interesting to me is all these craft brands,” Steinman said. “The ones I love do have that taste you crave in an IPA.”
Bingo.
The best NA beers reflect the best of regular beers. They employ the same care and practices, such as dry hopping and wet hopping, and marketing approach, such as mixed 12-packs or creative NA extensions of existing brands, as Oregon’s Deschutes Brewing is doing with its legendary Black Butte Porter.
Heineken 0.0, which saw sales surge 21% in 2021 to become the nation’s 78th-largest beer brand, deserves credit for pushing the NA beer conversation forward. So does Athletic Brewing, which was hit-or-miss when launching in 2018 and often tasted underfermented, but now boasts a consistently strong, if unspectacular, portfolio of NA beers.
It’s not all good news on the NA front. I tried more than 40 NA brands during Dry January, and found plenty with wonky aromas and flavors that remind you with every sip you’re drinking NA beer. Others, such as Lagunitas IPNA and Brooklyn Brewery’s line of Special Effects NA beers (with the exception of its Hoppy Amber, which I liked) just don’t offer much of an experience.
But at the top of the NA mountain, the diversity and quality is remarkable. There’s an ample array on Chicago shelves, but thanks to these beers being nonalcoholic, mail orders open up an even wider range of options.
Al’s Classic, a crisp, 54-calorie light lager made in California, was one of my favorites of the month. Self Care, an NA offshoot of Three Magnets Brewing in Olympia, Washington, is uniquely ambitious. And Surreal Brewing, of Campbell, California, specializes in a surprisingly effective lineup of low-calorie and low-carbohydrate NA beers. Its beers are so light as to function like a beer-seltzer hybrid at times. Expectations need to be adjusted to appreciate Surreal, but once they are, it works. The traditional beer flavors are there, just more as an addendum.
Self Care was particularly eye-opening. Three of its beers — Chalice of Wisdom Pilsner, Fuzzy Hat British Style Brew and Freshen Up Wet Hop Hazy IPA — were simply wonderful beers, NA or not. The textures were so full and the flavors so layered and fully realized that most people, I suspect, wouldn’t be able to identify them as nonalcoholic.
Along with Self Care, my unquestionable Dry January favorite was Untitled Art, a brand made by Octopi, a beverage company just outside Madison, Wisconsin.
At their best, Untitled Art’s nonalcoholic beers are not only indistinguishable from beers with alcohol, they’re often preferable. Not only would Untitled Art’s Juicy IPA pass for a “normal” beer, but I like it far more than most beers described as juicy IPAs. Like any fully realized beer, it dazzles from the aroma to the last fleeting taste: a papaya-mango nose, lean, fruity, crisp and dry on the palate. It’s lush and expertly balanced.
Untitled Art’s nonalcoholic West Coast IPA and Italian Pilsner are revelations unto themselves, also sacrificing little (if anything) in terms of flavor, aroma and texture. Its S’mores Dark Brew does come across as an NA beer thanks to its thinner mouthfeel, but no matter; it is a playful, innovative and well-executed take on the pastry stout genre.
Whereas Self Care brews to a very low level of alcohol while trying to emphasize a deft balance of flavors and aromas, Untitled Art begins its process by making “great, delicious beer” to full strength, about 5% to 7% alcohol, said Isaac Showaki, cofounder of Untitled Art. It then runs through membrane filtration, which uses intense pressure to strip alcohol from beer.
What’s left is beer concentrate that’s about 1% alcohol, Showaki said. Water is added back, which dilutes the beer to between 0.3% and just under 0.5% alcohol before an additional final step or two, such as dry hopping for IPAs or adding marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker flavors to S’mores Dark Brew. And there it is: premium nonalcoholic beer with full-fledged texture, aroma and flavor.
Untitled Art’s nonalcoholic beers fall on the higher side of the NA calorie scale, but all are still under 100 calories. Showaki said he’s fine with being at the high end because “the goal was always to have the best-tasting NA beer out there.”
Nonalcoholic beer has grown more slowly than Showaki expected — hard seltzer became what he though NA beer would be — but at its peak, it has become close to 15% of Untitled Art’s sales. They are beers I would glad drink any day, any time of the year, alcohol or not. But there is one hurdle: price.
The suggested retail price of Untitled Art’s mixed 12-pack of nonalcoholic beers — which includes Juicy IPA, West Coast IPA, Italian Pilsner and a bright, tart Florida Weiss made with passion fruit and guava — is about $26. That’s quite expensive for any 12-pack of beer, let alone one without the addition of a buzz. Prices for the best NA beers generally run between $10 and $16 for six-packs.
Showaki said he thinks the audience for top-tier NA beer will be there. He pointed to an upcoming brand, an NA take on a lychee sherbet sour. He bought about $40,000 of lychee puree for it.
“We are a beverage innovation company,” he said. “Will the customer come along for the ride without the alcohol? We hope so.”
Expensive as it is, I can see returning to Untitled Art’s mixed 12-pack or mail-ordering Self Care a few times through the year. They helped make Dry January not only painless, but a net positive. Why not drink them year-round?
Thanks to brands like that, I was missing a post-dinner whiskey and the occasional cocktail more than most beers by the end of Dry January; NA beer had been that effective. And while I’ll miss feeling lighter and springier with consistently quality sleep — I do love beer, and I’m ready for it once again. Plus, there’s always Sober October.
A 6-pack of nonalcoholic beer
Al’s Classic: Soft and floral with a bitter snap in the finish, this was my favorite take on a light lager. Available via mail order at drinkals.com
Punk AF (Brew Dog): Very light up front, but finishes bright and effervescent with a fruity-citrus rush. At 20 calories and 2.3 carbs in a 12-ounce can, it goes down easy. Available in mixed 12-packs at some Binny’s locations; binnys.com
Juicy IPA (Untitled Art): Tied for my favorite beer of the month. Available on Chicago shelves.
Fuzzy Hat (Self Care): The other half of the tie, emulating a malt-forward, easy-drinking English mild with aplomb. Available via mail order at drinkselfcare.com.
Porter (Surreal): There’s no mistaking this for a porter with alcohol, but its dark roasty note in the middle of the sip, and without any wonky flavors, thread the needle — and at just 50 calories. Available via mail order at surrealbrewing.com.
Paradiso Citra IPA (Big Drop) The aroma is just what it should be — pine and citrus — with fruity bitterness on the palate. Drinks more like a pale ale than an IPA, but no matter. Available at many Binny’s locations; binnys.com
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