“The Meaning of Beer” by Jonny Garret
Hello everyone. After a short hiatus—I think this was the first time I went more than ten days without posting—we’re back. I apologize for the absence, but we have some exciting news coming very soon (I already dropped a spoiler on Insta 🫣), which ended up making it harder to keep up with the blog. Not to mention, I’ve also been working on some themed posts that need to go live on specific dates. Today, we’re doing something different: a sort of book review. That’s right—I had some flashbacks to my Portuguese classes that delayed my summer break in the last year of high school, but I decided to give writing a review a try. The book in question is “The Meaning of Beer” (published by Allen & Unwin in November 2024), written by the beloved Jonny Garrett.
For those who don’t know him, he is one of the leading writers in the British beer scene and one of the hosts of the YouTube channel The Craft Beer Channel. He’s a master storyteller, and what makes his stories so compelling is the fact that he actually goes to places, talks to people, and truly immerses himself in the experience before putting it on paper—or on video, in the case of the Youtube channel. Luckily for me, his stories revolve around beer. This is his fourth book, but the first one I’ve read, and I believe it’s only available in English. It’s an easy read for those interested in the historical side of beer, though I must admit my limited English vocabulary struggled a bit with his vast British vocab. But that’s a good thing—it helped me learn some new words!
The book essentially tries to describe the importance of beer in various aspects of our lives. And when I say importance, I mean tracing historical facts that have shaped certain elements of our daily existence. One of the easiest examples is refrigerators. They were actually invented by the brewing industry to facilitate the production of lagers, which need to be fermented and matured at lower temperatures. This investment in beer-making technology has had a direct impact on our modern lives. I particularly loved the part where he suggests that next time someone complains there’s too much beer in the fridge, we should reply that it’s actually the other stuff taking up too much space—after all, fridges were made for beer! This is just one example of how the book mixes humor with history, making it an even more enjoyable read. The book consistently explains how beer-related events have influenced civilization, culture, entertainment, and beyond. Toward the end, Garrett even speculates about the future of beer, expressing skepticism about the growing trend of alcohol-free consumption that is sweeping the beverage industry.
The book made me reflect on some very interesting topics—sometimes not explicitly within a chapter’s main theme, but through scattered passages. One of them is how women were once the main beer producers in the Middle Ages but were gradually pushed out of the industry. This happened due to factors like monasteries and abbeys monopolizing brewing in certain countries and, more recently, advertising strategies that heavily targeted male consumers over the past century. When we think of monastic brewing, we often associate it with monks, but the truth is that nuns and abbesses also played a role in the process. Ironically, just as many claim that the beer industry is stagnating, we are finally seeing more women in taprooms and efforts to include them as consumers. Additionally, many women today are getting involved in brewing itself, bringing fresh ideas that keep the industry dynamic. The book also touches on other social topics, such as the first-ever beer advertisement featuring a same-sex couple (by Guinness in the ’90s), which was ultimately blocked by shareholders and conservative elements of Irish society. Sadly, the world still isn’t fully ready for this kind of representation, as we continue to see brand boycotts over similar marketing campaigns. Fortunately, the book takes the opposite stance, advocating for diversity in pubs and bars—something that remains a utopian ideal in many places.
And as nobody is perfect, the author made also a small mistake when discussing the Oktoberfest in Blumenau, Brazil (there is even a Brazilian flag on the cover). As I mentioned earlier, what makes his storytelling fantastic is that he actually experiences the events he writes about. But he has never been to the Brazilian Oktoberfest—so we have to cut him some slack. Maybe English-language sources on the subject are limited, but he ended up getting some things wrong. After describing his experience at the German Oktoberfest, he spends two or three pages introducing readers to the curious fact that Brazil has its own version of the festival (in fact, there are dozens). So far, so good—he even correctly states that the event in Brazil was originally created to raise funds for a region devastated by flooding and has since become a tradition spanning over thirty years.
However, he goes on to say that Brazil put its own spin on the festival (which is undoubtedly true) and claims that the pretzels are actually cinnamon-flavored and that the beer of choice is Brahma. Sorry, dear Jonny, but I think you need to come with me to Brazil to truly experience the variety of beers at the festival and taste the authentic delights from Vila Germânica yourself. I could let the cinnamon pretzel comment slide, but saying that people only drink Brahma was a bit lazy. If he had just asked ChatGPT, even it would know that the official beer today is Spaten—the same Spaten from Munich’s Oktoberfest (post pandemic). Yet, even before the pandemic break, since 2015 the oficial brand was "Eisenbahn”. Eisenbahn is a local brand that already is part of the Heineken Group and has some internationally awarded labels. But in Blumenau’s festival, there are fewer restrictions, and many local breweries participate, offering a wide range of styles beyond just the traditional "Festbier". Sure, it’s just two pages in a book with over three hundred, but my Brazilian side just couldn’t let it slide. 😂 Sorry, Jonny!
All in all, this was my first beer-related book of the year, and I’m now looking for my next read. It was a fun and engaging book, with such rich descriptions of beer-related stories and facts that it often left me thirsty. As a result, many of my reading sessions ended with me reaching for something from the fridge—which means the book did its job of celebrating beer culture perfectly. I still think we need to convince Jonny to visit Oktoberfest in Blumenau and let him redeem himself—maybe with a video on his channel or even a few pages in a future book.
That’s all for today—until next time!
