Oh Snap! The Seasonal Beer Slide

A nerd girl walked into a bar for a burger and a beer, hoping for some Wormtown Blizzard of 78 but ready to settle for a wintery/Christmas beer. What to her wondering eyes did appear? Sam Adam’s Cold Snap.

To frame this a bit better, this happened less than a week before Christmas. The calendar hadn’t even flipped to the 21st, meaning we were still in autumn. Jesus, the thermometer read a balmy 16 degrees. And Cold Snap is their spring release.

The seasons are solidly established entities. I mean, if a calendar doesn’t clue you in, then the weather outside definitely will. Spring was absolutely nowhere to be seen that evening and will not step out for months to come. What the hell do I want with a spring beer a week before Christmas? Personally, I don’t want anything to do with it. These preemptory releases are a play on gratification and a push for profit.

Patience is no longer a virtue. With just about everything at the tips of your fingers, what place does patience have in the world? The beer scene is taking advantage of that when it comes to these releases. As these are seasonal beers, they are only meant to be available for the season for which they are brewed. This makes the selling opportunities limited and high risk. After the season passes, consumers are on to the next seasonal preference. The excitement for the last seasonal beer tucked away until next year.

Brewing beer is an expensive endeavor, I get that. These companies are looking to make the most profit they can. Releasing a seasonal before it’s time does that. It titillates consumers and initiates buying. Two days after the shocking tap availability of Cold Snap, I stood in front of a woman with a twelve-pack in her cart. Pushing the seasonal releases forward does work. Who doesn’t want to have their consumers ooh-ing in the aisles when they see a beer they haven’t seen in a year?

At the same time, no one wants their consumers eww-ing in the aisles as they walk by cases of beer collecting dust. I remember this happening with pumpkin beers. Stacks of Shipyard Pumpkinhead and its cousins sat through the fall, winter, and into spring without being touched. The market had been flooded by everyone’s take on the autumn staple. Consumers were overwhelmed with choice and disenchanted by the fad. A lot of money was left on the shelf to suffer an agonizing expiration.

With the pumpkin bubble bursting, the Oktoberfests stepped up to take their place. A beer born out of a German festival that runs sixteen to eighteen days from mid to late September to the first Sunday in October now starts hitting shelves and taps in late July. I’m not kidding. If you want to, you can start sipping on the bready, malty delightful beverage with the thermometer hitting the nineties. Sticky is the only thing that comes to mind.

Anyone who has seen the line at Treehouse Brewing out in Charlton, MA, or worse yet stood in said line, can tell you scarcity also initiates buying. You won’t find their cans in nearby liquor stores. I don’t even think there are restaurants with their tap handles. That line is the only way to procure their offerings. Build it, and they will come…all the way from New York in many cases. A long way to go for a beer run if you ask me. But I am a minority in that thinking.

Wouldn’t it be a better overall strategy to brew less of the seasonals and keep the releases on point with the season they are meant to be enjoyed in? Yes, it would mean less profit in some cases. I’m not a business person. But, the next year’s consumer excitement would be higher, boosting the purchasing. I think it would lead to more customer satisfaction as well.

I’m irked that if I want to drink a winter beer in winter, I have to buy it in October or November. I don’t want to hold on to it. I want winter beer in winter that’s fresh. Is that really so much to ask?

I know, two articles from the East Coast in a row where I decided to get up on my soapbox and rant about beer rather than talk about what’s available. Sorry friends. I was caught off guard the way I always am this time of year. Not sure why the switch from winter to spring beers ruffles my feathers more than other seasonal switches. It probably has something to do with the biting cold and snow.

And the seasonal slide is more of a problem in big craft beer. Sam Adam’s in particular. Smaller breweries that have seasonal offerings tend to stick closer to the traditional release schedule rather than chase the pace of larger entities. Thank goodness for small businesses.

The beer I was hoping to see on tap that night, Blizzard of ’78, is an offering from Wormtown in Worcester, MA. Although named for the monstrous February storm, it’s available from late November through January. It’s an English brown ale. Coffee notes hit hard on the palette as well as the nose. Hints of caramel mingle with the java at the beginning of each sip. It is the perfect beverage for cold winter nights. If you can find it, that is.

Cheers Nerd Girls!