One of the main takeaways from “Castaway” and “Robinson Crusoe” is that being stranded alone on a deserted island would be — to put it lightly — a pretty dismal existence. Food isn’t a guarantee, inanimate objects become your only friends (looking at you, Wilson), and you don’t know if or when you’ll ever be able to leave. Another losing quality in this scenario: Alcohol would likely be in short supply.
Imagine, though, if you could take an unlimited stash of just one beer to have on hand during your potentially indefinite stay. It would have to be something you’d never grow tired of. Ideally, it’d be crisp and sessionable; maybe something on the hoppy side, or perhaps a reliable, stalwart macro lager. What would you pick?
We posed this very question to 10 professional brewers from all over the U.S. Some were happy to choose just one, but others got more creative with their island picks. Here’s what they had to say.
Russian River Brewing Company Pliny the Elder
Machine House Brewery Cambridge Bitter
Sante Adairius Rustic Ales Saison Bernice
Allagash White
Westmalle Tripel and Hamm’s Lager
Sierra Nevada Torpedo Extra IPA
Live Oak Brewing Company Pilz
Rainier Beer
Russian River Brewing Company Blind Pig
Coors Banquet
“It’s a desert island, so I assume it’s hot and dry. I’m a hop guy; I love hops. I love New England IPAs and I love West Coast IPAs, but I might have to go West Coast here because it’s hot and I want hops with a little more crispness. Probably Pliny. I don’t have anywhere to go, so the fact that it’s 8 percent ABV doesn’t matter, and it’s still pretty crisp.” —Sam Richardson, co-founder and brewmaster, Other Half Brewing Company, Brooklyn
“The island would have to be somewhere in the Washington San Juans or the Salish Sea. I would be a fisherman, deserted alone. Existence would be rain formed in mist, drizzle, sleet, or the common downpour. The cloudy skies prove gray nearly year-round, except for the occasional orange sword of sunset far away, which would point sideways to mark the time: 5 o’clock. In an old stone keep, there would be but one cask, never failing or becoming stale [but always pouring] the stuff that mimics the orange horizon: Machine House Cambridge Bitter. I would pop a tin of Capstan Blue and guzzle a few pints before retiring to bed.” —Kevin Davey, co-owner, Gold Dot Beer, McMinnville, Ore.
“Sante Adairius’s Saison Bernice. During my time in Berkeley, I fondly remember making the pilgrimage to Capitola with coworkers in the hope of stocking up on bottles. It’s such a beautiful and balanced expression of mixed-culture fermentation and acidity. To me, it’s the gold standard of a tart saison. I could drink it all day, every day, and it would never grow old on me.” —Rob McCoy, VP of brewing operations, Great Notion Brewing, Portland, Ore.
“For a beer that would be palatable for many, many hot days on end, I’d choose the Allagash White. I can’t imagine ever getting sick of it. While it’s light and refreshing, it has complexity with lemony and spice notes.” —Michael Bracco, brewer, FlyteCo Brewing, Denver
“It’d be really easy for me to pick Pliny the Elder as my desert island beer, but I think that’s because it’s rarely seen in Michigan, and I’ve only had it a couple of times. Ruling that one out and turning towards beers I know well, I’m going with a combo of Westmalle Tripel and Hamm’s. I’ll enjoy a couple Westmalles with my daily dinner and crush the Hamm’s with breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, and afternoon snacks. I’m also bringing a hip flask, putting my phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and enjoying some New Riff Rye every evening while watching the sun go down over the water. When do I leave?” —Brian Confer, co-owner and head brewer, Stormcloud Brewing Company, Frankfort, Mich.
“My desert island beer is — and probably always will be — Sierra Nevada Torpedo. It’s got the perfect balance of balance, bitterness, and booze. Served really cold, it is bright and crispy. And as it warms up, you get all those classic West Coast aromatic notes of pine and citrus from the early days of craft beer. Question is, does this desert island have a nice cold walk-in to store these beauties in?” —Ian Smith, lead brewer, Kings County Brewers Collective, Brooklyn
“My desert island beer would probably be Live Oak Pilz. I’m assuming the desert island would probably be somewhere hot, so their Pilz satisfies the thirst-quenching part. On top of that, it’s simultaneously a complex beer with great malt and hop character, as well as one you don’t have to think about too much, either.” —Jeffrey Stuffings, co-founder, Jester King Brewery, Austin, Texas
“My current desert island beer would have to be Rainier. It’s light, crispy, and has just enough flavor to keep you interested. Whenever I travel to the Pacific Northwest, I drink at least a couple a night and take a couple 6-packs home with me.” —Derek Gallanosa, head brewer, GOAL. Brewing, San Diego
“Blind Pig is one of those beers I simply cannot resist. Anytime I see it, I have to have one. I don’t think there has ever been a wrong time to enjoy a Blind Pig, and if there were, I haven’t found it yet. Its high level of bitterness dries out completely, leaving you wanting more. Huge notes of pine and lemongrass balance out the soft, juicy grapefruit and citrus, creating a perfect bitter-and-tropical vibe that would help me survive on a deserted island. I’m pretty sure if I had an endless supply, I wouldn’t be in much of a hurry to get rescued.” —Skip Schwartz, head brewer, WeldWerks Brewing Co., Greeley, Colo.
“I’m not sure if I’m taking the term ‘desert island beer’ too literally, but the first thing that comes to mind is macro lager. Even being a professional brewer, macros are something I’m certainly interested in especially when it comes to quality and longevity. With that being said, I personally rotate between a holy trinity of Miller High Life, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and my current selection for desert island beer, Coors Banquet. Often overshadowed by the watered-down Coors Light, Coors Banquet is a perfect example of an American adjunct lager that I could drink to the end of eternity without ever getting tired of it.” —John Aravich, brewer, Five Dimes Brewery, Red Bank, N.J.
The article We Asked 10 Brewers: What’s Your Desert Island Beer? appeared first on VinePair.