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There is a lot of history in that beer you’re drinking (or thinking about drinking) right now. Some might dismiss your can of Pilsner or bottle of IPA as nothing more than a throwaway consumer item. But make no mistake. Beer is not only ubiquitous. It is ancient — the product of the mother of […]



Page space comes at a premium in a graphic novel. But here on the web? Not so much. As a valuable and evolving companion to the book itself, gives us the chance to give you some things that the physical book cannot. Like citations and annotations. Although The Comic Book Story of Beer is not some […]



Are you champing at the bit to understand why the ancient Roman physician Dioscorides claimed beer caused elephantitis? Will you be able to sleep tonight without knowing the name of the Irish saint whose pious breath could splinter casks of pagan brew into smithereens? Or which handy-dandy medieval medical reference prescribed a mix of beer […]



comic_con_2016The Comic Book Story of Beer coauthor Jonathan Hennessey is at Comic-Con 2016!

San Diego is one heluva beer town, so c'mon out for the TEACHING HISTORY WITH GRAPHIC NOVELS panel on Saturday, July 23, at 11 am at the San Diego Public Library.

And—get this!—you don't even need an SDCC badge to attend the event.

More information here.

And just a few hours later, at 2pm, the San Diego Beer Fest is on at Liberty Station in the Point Loma neighborhood. With all the military personnel around Point Loma is like a sun-drenched Washington, D.C.



beer_day_britain_blog_smallerAs holidays go, you don’t get more wet behind the ears than Beer Day Britain.

The annual event was initially conceived to coincide with the 800th Anniversary of the Magna Carta, which was June 15, 2015.

The day is furthermore the brainchild of award-winning beer author, blogger, historian, and “drinks expert” Jane Peyton, who hails from the vicinity of West London. Peyton is doing more to deepen and enhance beer history and appreciation than almost anyone. She’s a tour de force!

Although this day of zythophilic observance is new, the traditions of beer brewing and drinking in the British Isles is anything but. Some might be tempted to defer to Germany, Belgium, or even (dare it be suggested?) California as the fountainhead of beer innovation. But as the Beer Day Britain promoters remind us, if not for the alliance of the English, Scots, and Welsh, we wouldn’t have the clutch of mainstay brewing styles that includes India Pale Ale, Barley Wine, Pale Ale, Mild Ale, Brown Ale, Porter, Stout, or Russian Imperial Stout. (The last so-named because that style came into its fullness as a cherished export product to the court of Catherine the Great in Russia).

While Czech-Bavarian Pilsner might be the most popular single beer from the perspective of global consumption, no other nation than Britain can boast of so many of its signatures brews being produced on a regular basis around the world.

Any beer history tome, illustrated or otherwise, would be wholly discredited were it not to lavish many pages documenting the evolution of ale and beer in Britain. And The Comic Book Story of Beer duly does its duty.

So in honor of Beer Day Britain we proudly present our sequence on the four gentlemen who founded CAMRA (the Campaign for Real Ale) — and who in the process just about single-handedly stopped the UK’s disturbing late 20th Century trend of pub closures and general apathy to brewing grain-based fermented drinks of distinction.







Want to see more? Get The Comic Book Story of Beer from Amazon in the UK or here in the USA.

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The Comic Book Story of Beer is the most drinkable yet comprehensive single-volume book on the 9,000+ year history of the world's favorite drink. Come 'round frequently to for fascinating new articles on brewing through the ages.

It was 1620 when the Pilgrims began to call these American shores their home. So here in the U.S., it will still be 104 years before we [white people] can legitimately celebrate the 500th anniversary of anything.

But in places like Germany, cinquecentennials are considerably less rarified. And one of those cinquecentennials is being celebrated today. It’s das Reinheitsgebot, a stringently conservative beer purity law that just may have kept Bavarian beers, for all these centuries, in their lofty heights of being counted among the world’s best.

Reinheitsgebot - OriginaltextLike we moderns who scrutinize ingredients labels in the grocery store for allergens, artificial preservatives, and sweeteners which happen not to be on the ever-changing approved list (is Stevia hot or not this year?), people in medieval times—or at least some of them—were concerned about what the heck was in their food and drink.

They had reason to worry. Iniquitous, penny-pinching brewers of “the world lit only by fire” were adulterating their beers with sawdust, ashes, darnel ryegrass (which is poisonous), even psychoactive fly agaric fungus. Some of the reasons for this was to stretch their supply or make stale beer more palatable (and sellable). Occasionally the adulterations were for dubiously “medical” purposes. We are talking Middle Ages technology, here, people.

Two Bavarian noblemen—Dukes Wilhelm IV and Ludwig X—decided to do something about it. They issued their brewing “purity command” on April 23, 1516, at a meeting in the city of Ingolstadt of the German Assembly of Estates. What the dukes put in writing and gave the force of law that day remains “one of the oldest examples of product regulation known to man.”

From that point forward, beer in Bavaria could only be legally made with water, barley (and not, for example, wheat), and hops. Well… Yeast was involved too. But nobody in 1516 quite had a handle on the world of microscopic organisms just yet. So that ingredient was left out.

The Reinheitsgrebot eventually spread to the other German states, and became Imperial law in 1906. It remains on the books today.

If, in Germany, you’re some craft-style brewer who would like to add tiny amounts of adjunct, a little lemon peel, or some invert sugar to your recipes to see what happens, you cannot label your end product “beer.” You are instead obligated to go to market with the highly compromised “mixed beer beverage” label instead.

Some have contended that the Reinheitsgebot is therefore keeping Germany stuck in the past and unable to take part in the creative, freewheeling, American-style brewing now taking much of the rest of the globe by storm.

To produce a Reinheitsgebot, you arguably already need to have a society where drinking and enjoying beer is a high priority. Butgermans_Fume the 1516 brewing code also had the effect of cementing Bavarian beer as a patriotism-infused cultural artifact. A beer locals could believe in, take pride in, and expect reliability from year in and year out.

Since beers like Cologne’s kolsches couldn’t contain preservatives or low-cost alternate ingredients, they accrued a positive reputation abroad. German beers could fetch premium prices on the export market.

And not only that. The Reinheitsgebot was also effectively a protectionist racket. Brews made without its exacting ingredients were legally banned from entering the country, which meant that the Czech, Danish, English, and American brews couldn’t be sold in Germany. Heck, Bavaria didn’t even allow beers from other parts of Germany until the 1950s.

When, beginning in that same decade, the EEC or European Economic Community began to integrate the economies of Western Europe, the Reinheitsgebot was in for a challenge. In the 1980s a French exporter took the German Federal Republic government to court, alleging that the Reinheitsgebot was an illegal impediment to free trade. The Germans put up a stiff fight. Their lawyers even argued that lifetimes of drinking the purest beer available would put Germans especially at risk of harm by an influx of foreign chemical preservatives and artificial flavors. But a 13-judge panel in Luxembourg was not sympathetic.

Domestic German beers today must still hew to the strictures of Duke Wilhelm IV. But the “bad guy” beers can be legally sold.

Not that it matters much. Imports still only make up less than 10 percent of beer consumed in Germany.



The Comic Book Story of Beer is the most drinkable yet comprehensive single-volume book on the 9,000+ year history of the world's favorite drink. Come 'round frequently to for fascinating new articles on brewing through the ages.

One hundred and ten years ago today, what was likely an earthquake of approximately 7.8 on the Richter Scale struck the San Francisco Bay Area. Although the temblor was actually centered in the San Francisco suburbs—with geological studies suggesting the exact epicenter was off the shore of adjacent San Mateo County’s rocky beaches—the quake was strong enough to be felt as far away as Oregon and Southern California.

Even more devastating than the earthquake were the many fires that broke out as the result of, among other causes, ruptured gas mains and the haphazard post-disaster cooking of survivors among the ruins. Even many architecturally “earthquake-proof” steel buildings, like the one housing the San Francisco Call newspaper, survived the natural disaster only to succumb to the manmade hazard of flames that burned for four straight days. At least 3,000 people died from causes ranging from collapsing buildings to burns and smoke inhalation.

jackson_brewery_1906_photo_capAs the preeminent center of shipping, banking, and trade in the entire Western United States, San Francisco had a robust brewing industry in 1906. And like many other local industries the makers of beer and suppliers of beer equipment and ingredients were dealt a jaw-breaking blow.

Theodore Rueger, a brewery employee and self-confessed “camera fiend” from the nearby city of Benicia, California, grabbed his photo gear and took a ferry into San Francisco proper immediately following the disaster. He wandered a 16-mile route all around the city, snapping pictures and taking notes to assess the state of his brewing industry comrades.

“Words cannot describe or picture show half the ruin and desolation wrought by the flames and earthquake,” was the shocked first impression recorded by the employee of the Benicia Brewery and Soda Works.

Breweries old and new, big and small, sustained harrowing damage. In North Beach, where many breweries were located, the Claus Wreden Brewery at Lombard and Taylor Streets—a newcomer to the city—was “a mass of wreckage and a total loss.”


The giant St. Louis Brewery at San Francisco and Powell was also badly damaged. And to add insult to injury, opportunistic looters would, in the weeks after, be caught attempting to spirit away a cartful of the St. Louis’s brewery’s expensive brass fittings.

The city’s Jackson Brewing Co. had been planning to move into a new facility. But in the aftermath, its principals were to discover that both the old facility and the new, under-construction upgrade had both been completely flattened.

The storied Anchor Brewery, whose later history and leading role in the Craft Brewing Movement are well chronicled in The Comic Book Story of Beer, was not among the lucky few spared by the earthquake and fire.

Rueger, after leaving the lowlands on San Francisco’s northeastern outskirts and plying into its central districts of steep elevation, wrote,

“…we saw a kettle standing on the side of a hill, the only thing to indicate that the Anchor Brewery had been there.”

All in all, 19 breweries and two malt houses were reported completely destroyed in April 1906 (including the Albion Brewery, later to serve as partial inspiration for Jack McAuliffe’s groundbreaking New Albion Brewing Company 70 years later). Only five—Jacob Adams’ Broadway Brewery, the California Brewing Company, Enterprise Brewing Company, North Star Brewing Company, and Willows Brewery, were left in functional condition. But even they were destined to serve an unsteady beer market in the immediate future, since tens of thousands had fled San Francisco for other parts of the state.

san_francisco_undauntedSome legitimate industry bigwigs also happened to be on hand to witness the earthquake and fire. This included Adolphus Busch himself, who had been visiting the city at the time in the comfort of his private rail car, and who evidently experienced “a narrow escape from death.” (Busch and his family lost all their personal luggage in the disaster, a loss reported to value at $20,000).

This jewel of the Golden State, however, would quickly rebound. By 1908, for example, the brand new, state of the art (and fireproof!) Bauer-Schweitzer malting plant—with a 1,000,000 bushel capacity—would be up and running on the site of the ruins of its predecessor. In fact, San Francisco rebounded so quickly and so fully from its setback that it proudly hosted the 1915 Panama Pacific International Exposition—with the city proudly calling itself “Undaunted.” The popular Rainier Beer, with quite the sizable production plant in San Francisco, was a key sponsor of the event.


"In Stricken Frisco: Description and Illustration of the Horror of Earthquake and Fire." American Brewers Review, Vol. XX, 1906. pp. 280-284

"Stole Brewery, Brass." San Francisco Chronicle, May 10, 1906.

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