42. Hugging the Bar with Beth Demmon
Beth talks breaking down barriers of entry, telling the hard stories, respecting your limits, cider, and more; plus tarot for collaborations and friendship.
Hugging the Bar with Beth Demmon
Well, friends, we’ve done it again. After debuting the Hugging the Bar podcast with writer Ruvani De Silva, I’m thrilled to present episode two, with Beth Demmon. Frankly, this is starting to feel like a fantastic con: start a newsletter + podcast, get to talk to brilliant people in your industry you admire who also happen to be just lovely humans.
Beth hardly needs an introduction to all you beer fans, but this is a newsletter and there are rules and one is that we have to start somewhere. So: Beth Demmon is a freelance writer and journalist, podcast, BJCP judge, and more recently, a book author(! Read/listen on for details there) covering food and drink, with a concentration on beer and cider. Beth writes for Good Beer Hunting and is also one of the outlet’s podcast hosts; you can also find her work in places like Civil Eats, Craft Beer, Craft Beer & Brewing, VinePair, Thrillist, and many more, including San Diego Magazine; Beth is a fixture in her city’s beer scene and brings her perspective to lots of podcasts in addition to her written work.
Beth also authors the monthly Prohibitchin’! newsletter highlighting underrepresented voices in beverage alcohol, and operates the Diverse Beer Writers Initiative, a program she started to help break down barriers of entry into the field by offering mentorship and consulting to “women/nonbinary people, LGBTQ+ individuals, BIPOC, and anyone other than the current majority of beer writers and drinkers (i.e. straight white guys, often with beards).” Beth’s work is award-winning—time and time again—and is absolutely integral to the narrative of contemporary craft beer. I think what has made Beth a go-to, trusted source for what we need to know in this industry and community, what we need to pay attention to, what’s being done and what’s not being done, is her innate balance—balance of uncovering even the hardest facts and maintaining the utmost sensitivity, and balance of caring enough about craft beer to want to change the culture while also keeping what craft beer is in perspective and centering the human beings that make it, along with their rights. We get into all of it in our conversation.
Here you’ll find a partial transcript—you’ll just have to listen for all the good stuff! (Also, Gmail will cut this email off and that sounds annoying for you.) Right now, the podcast episode is only available to Patreon patrons—if you want access this week, go sign up! It’s only $3 per month, you can get swag, merch discounts, further exclusive and/or early access to content like this, and more, plus you’re helping support Hugging the Bar’s content and charitably goals. Next week, I’ll be posting the episode for everyone here on Substack, so keep an eye out next issue.
A reminder that you can find Beth on Twitter at @delightedbite and on Instagram at @thedelightedbite. Enjoy the chat!
Well, hello, Beth, and thank you so much again for joining Hugging the Bar. How are you?
Beth: I am literally so excited to be here. I am such a huge fan, so thank you so much for having me.
Oh, I'm glad that there's no video because I'm blushing really hard. I'm such a fan of yours, and that means a lot to me. And I won't make everyone listen to me gush further. This is about you, so we'll jump in…How did you first get into craft beer just even initially as an interest?
Beth: It was partially because I was really interested in food. I mean, I was a food blogger in 2007, 2008. That's where I got all my social media handles—The Delighted Bit—that I am like, "I'm never going to change that. Who cares if I'm not talking about food much anymore?"
And then so also in 2008, I moved from Richmond, Virginia to San Diego with a guy I'd been dating for like four months. Now we have been married for 11 years, so I highly recommend, yeah, doing a cross country move with an almost stranger. That's how it works out. And at the same time, it was kind of when San Diego was going through its current renaissance of craft beer.
So we got here, and we were broke as shit. We had literally no money. We slept on an air mattress for a year and couldn't afford to put gas in our car, so we bicycled everywhere. And I lost so much weight. It was awesome. [Laughs.] But we didn't really know how to meet people as an adult. And we both had just these weirdo temp jobs and couldn't even make work friends. So we would go to bars because that's what normal people do to make friends as adults. And there was just starting to be a lot of excitement and interest in craft beer in San Diego at that time. So just kind of by virtue of what we were doing, and I was already interested in flavors and palate expression and things like that through my writing about food just as a hobby…And I just kind of arbitrarily got into it because before that, what I drank was Budweiser and Maker's Mark, so often at the same time.
In 2015, our local alt weekly, which has since died—RIP the state of American print journalism—but they needed a new beer columnist. Long story short, got the gig. That was my first freelance gig. It was just a side thing at the time. And in 2016, I decided to go full-time freelance into beer writing because I don't like to brew beer. It is not fun or interesting to me to do. I'm not good at it, and I am a good writer. I like to write. I've always been interested in writing. I read a lot. And so it was sort of the easiest and most effective way for me to start participating in the beer industry. And I have been doing that ever since.
Amazing. Yeah, because you've shared a bit just on social media and some of your writing and talking and being on the internet about that transition from a full-time job and writing about beer sort of being, obviously, not just a hobby but something on the side that you really built into a career. Is there anything else that you would kind of share about that period, how that transition really took place?
Beth: One really important aspect to my decision to make it a full-time profession is because, at the time, I knew that my husband and I, we wanted to have a kid. And I was like, "Well, in San Diego, I can't afford to just not work, but I also can't afford childcare." So I was like, "I'm going to build my freelance network," because I was already doing marketing writing as my nine-to-five. So I already kind of knew content and journalism and marketing-type writing. And I just decided to go freelance to build that foundation of a career so that I would be able to have the flexibility once we did have a kid.
And that's exactly what happened because in 2017, surprise, had a baby, and he didn't go anywhere. He's still around. And so now, yeah, I mean, I like to say—I'm using air quotes here—I'm a full-time freelancer, but full-time to me is like mornings while he's in preschool half days. He's not even in elementary school yet. So it's not necessarily—I'm not making 65 grand a year like I was when I was doing marketing six years ago, but I'm paying for groceries and helping to support the family, and also I'm able to be a parent for most of the day. So that flexibility was definitely something that I specifically thought about when deciding to do it. And also I was just kind of like, "You know what? If I try going full-time freelance and I hate it or I suck at it or it just isn't financially viable, it's not like I can't go back and get another job." Like, there's always jobs. So I just figured, "Fuck it, why not? I'm going to try it." And it worked out. And now, I can't even imagine working in an office. That sounds like my worst nightmare.
Yeah, same. I do want to get into some specifics about the kinds of stories that you write in a moment. But in general, what are your personal feelings about the responsibility of being a writer and journalist in craft beer right now or about the power that your voice can have and what it can accomplish?
Beth: There are many avenues that beer writers can take and should take in terms of covering things. There is a need for straightforward reporting. I want to know when the brewery down the street is opening. I want to know how many taps they are going to have. I want to know what their hours of operation are. There is a need for that, just straightforward information.
That being said, there is also an equally important need to talk about the things that are harder to talk about, that are a little bit more abstract or not quantifiable, like workplace conditions or cultural aspects of things. And that's what I like to focus on a little bit more. I do talk about some technical brewing studies and “what size is your brewhouse?” and “why do you do these types of styles?” And knowing that kind of beer history and style-type stuff, that's something I like, too, but I do tend to personally focus more on the cultural issues because I think that craft beer is unique in that it makes its culture so inextricable from just operations, blurring those personal and professional boundaries for consumers and employees. And so I think that it is, at this point, my responsibility to continue that work, along with many other people who focus on these types of issues.
But that doesn't mean that I'm going to turn down a job where they're like, "Hey, can you write a listicle of the twelve best places to drink beer in San Diego?" I'm like, "Yeah, obviously, I'm going to do that. I need money, too." So yeah, it is a balancing act of the stuff that I want to write about, the stuff that I think is important to write about, and the stuff that pays me to continue this career path. And I don't know if that answers your question; I feel like it does a little bit.
It absolutely does. And just sort of to tack on to that because you actually go beyond using your voice in the specific avenue of journalism—You have your Diverse Writers Beer Initiative, and you're a founding member of the San Diego Brewers Guild Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee. So what kind of work for you goes into these initiatives, and why is that an important aspect of the entire package that is your career and your involvement in craft beer? What kind of impact does this work have?
Beth: Well, not only do I think that it is an ethical and a moral responsibility to participate in dismantling racist, sexist, homophobic systems that are barriers for entry for people—I mean, they're just wrong—but as a human being, I feel like it is not an option to opt out of those things. Especially as a white cis woman; I'm barely marginalized, and I recognize that I have a lot of privilege and I have the capability to use that voice that I do have, the influence that I do have, to hopefully change things.
So that's one aspect of it, but the other aspect of it is A, if I don't do it, who's going to?; and B, if I want to write about these things and really be a hopeful person who helps change things, if I don't participate outside of just writing things, I'm not very credible. People would look at me and say, "Well, you're saying these things, you're talking the talk, but you're not walking the walk." And so I do think that both of those things are motivators for me, personally, to do the outside work that I do through the Diverse Beer Writers Initiative.
And full disclosure: I'm actually no longer on the Brewers Guild Diversity Committee just because it ended up being—I don't know, maybe I just don't play well with others; I don't know. [Laughs.] We were doing a lot of great ideas. And I don't want to disparage the work of any committees who are working to dismantle these systems, but…I have a limited amount of time and energy, and I felt that my positive impact potential was more so in the writing and consulting work that I am dedicated to doing than doing that. So, really, just something had to give, and it was pandemic time. I think we started in fall, 2019, so it got really difficult to convince people to care about diverse and equitable hiring practices when everything was closed, so the landscape certainly changed.
And I'm open to rejoining a committee like that in the future, but for the time being, it was just kind of unsustainable for me, personally, and I think that that's something important to talk about. I mean, knowing your limits and knowing where you can make the maximum positive impact without burning out because that's a very, very real thing. And anyway, so that was a really long answer to why I do the things that I do. But I think, yeah, you have to be honest with your capabilities and where you can best make a difference, and it isn't everywhere.
No, I think that's really important. So not a too long answer, especially in that regard, too, because it hits upon the impact and the need. But also that you're really only making that impact and fulfilling both the work that needs to be done and yourself if you're being honest with your limits, right? Because once you're stretched too thin, it's no good for anybody.
Beth: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I think I had to be really honest with myself about those limits. And like I said, he's only in preschool from 8 to 12. [Laughs.] So I'm not exactly burning the midnight oil when it comes to these types of things because I am a 360-degree whole person. This is a huge part of my life. But I have to make sure that I'm taking care of maintaining my family relationships, my parental relationships, my friends, and just personal well-being.
Yeah, of course. Okay. So I'm going to pivot a tiny bit just to hone in on one project of yours that I love, which is your monthly newsletter Prohibitchin’!. And so for anyone who doesn't yet know, somehow, this newsletter spotlights women and nonbinary individuals in beverage alcohol. So I'm just curious, we've talked a little bit about what sort of draws you to the stories that you work on. What drives you here to who you profile, and whose stories you tell in the newsletter?
Beth: So that started as a very San Diego beer-specific series for, again, another magazine in San Diego that no longer exists. And that was a monthly profile of a different woman working in San Diego Beer. It was great. Super great foundational jumping-off point. So when the magazine closed, I kind of had this idea and this name that's like really good that I didn't want to let go to waste. And I was just like, "Well, what can I do with this? Why am I limiting myself to just San Diego, just beer?"
In the course of my work, over the last couple of years, I have been lucky to be able to connect or even just learn about or hear about different people with varying marginalized identities, whether they just be women or queer or trans or Black or just anything outside the typical white, male-dominated beverage alcohol industry, and doing really interesting things that just are not being recognized. They are not being talked about. And I didn't want it to be this tokenization of, "Here is a woman doing this thing, and I'm only talking about her because of her identity." There are a ton of people doing interesting, innovative, unique, important things across beverage alcohol, across the world that are just, whether it be, unconscious or conscious bias, they are overlooked. Their efforts are belittled or minimized by people or mainstream media outlets or anything like that. And so I just said, "Well, I can do this myself. I don't need to pitch it to somebody and get their input."
And so I just started doing it. And it's unbelievable. I have so many interesting people that I want to talk to lined up or just on my radar that I will never run out of ideas. And it's so funny because, a lot of times, if I would pitch these profiles of people, it would be like, "Well, nobody cares. That's not interesting enough." Or, “They aren't unique enough.” And I'm like, "What are you talking about?" I don't know. It's so interesting, the gatekeeping structure that you so often find in media, whether it be digital or print, that I was just like, "You know what? I'm going to put my money where my mouth is. This is free to subscribe. It's free to read." I have some sponsors that help me make it financially viable just to be able to spend my limited amount of time to keep it going. But they have no editorial say. They have no editorial direction. I don't talk to them unless I'm sending them an invoice. [Laughs.] So it's nice. And I just figure, "You know what? I'm just going to keep this going as long as I can because, again, if I don't tell these stories or share their stories through their own words, not through the lens of my mouth, A, who's going to? And B, let's make it normal. Let's make sharing these stories more normal, more common." And hopefully, more people and more outlets and bigger visibility will come after that.
Yeah. Well, I really appreciate that, specifically from that perspective to addressing that gatekeeping…I'm sure many of us are grateful for that kind of work that you do. And one thing many of us in beer and in media know and love about your work is that you have often told some [people’s stories] that are incredibly difficult. And you walk this fine line between uncovering every pertinent facet of the story, but doing so with much sensitivity, understanding, nuance. And I think it's a balance that not every journalist achieves all the time. Is there anything you can sort of share about your process or maybe the state of mind you're in when interviewing and reporting things you remember as you sort of travel through the steps of stories like that?
Beth: It's definitely not work that somebody could jump into without a lot of background or a lot of kind of work that leads up to it, because there is a level of credibility and trust that is absolutely required to be able to discuss the things in the depths that you're kind of talking about. And it takes a long time to make people feel comfortable enough to share what is sometimes their life's greatest trauma with somebody they've never met before. And whenever anybody is uncomfortable doing that, even to me, that's totally understandable. There are secrets that I have that I will never go on record for, whether it be shame or embarrassment or just fear of safety or legal status. I mean, look at what's happening at BrewDog. I mean, private investigators. And I don't want people going through my mail. I specifically pay for a number of services for internet privacy and things like that, and it's very necessary. It's not paranoia. [Laughs.] And that type of work isn't for everybody, straight up.
Anybody could not do this. And while it's nice to hear that—it is nice to hear that it's appreciated because I think it's important, but it's almost like, "I don't want gratitude. I want change." And I don't mean to sound ungrateful because it is really an honor and a privilege to be a part of what I hope is sea change across craft beer and beverage alcohol in general. But it's certainly not for the faint of heart. And the way to approach it is often not the most mentally healthy. There is an element of straightforwardness after you've had these harrowing discussions that take an extraordinary amount of sensitivity to even get through. Sometimes, you just kind of have to turn your emotions off for a little while just to get the piece out there and then kind of go through this catharsis of responses and just see how it's being received, see if there are any tangible changes being made. Is this just one voice of many pushing towards improvement? And you know, I think it takes every single person that comes forward with a story like this, whether it be a writer or a source, to help chip away the stigma of sharing trauma in order to make positive change. And I just hope that my work is a little part of that, I hope.
And I guess on that note, a bit, I want to talk about burnout. In two sort of regards. First, regarding writing specifically. I think it's especially relevant when you are helping people share these stories about some of the hardest things they've dealt with in their lives and careers, discrimination, toxic workplaces, feeling their only choice might be to leave a career they work so hard to build. So this might sound like an overly earnest question, but really, what keeps driving you? Do you ever feel like you want to step away from this industry or the stories you tell?
Beth: I feel like that all the time. I feel like that all the time. But you know what, it goes back to that—I have worked for years to cultivate that, not reputation, but that credibility that I was talking about earlier. And it would just be, what a fucking waste to walk away. That would just be ridiculous. I wouldn't feel right passing the buck. You know what I mean?
And I don't mean that I think that there isn't room for more people to join this chorus. There absolutely is. We need to get as many people as possible. I want these stories to start being boring. Just be like, "Oh, that doesn't really happen anymore.” I want them to be obsolete. I want them to be outdated. But that's human nature. I don't think that ever—sexism is never going to go away. Racism is never going to go away. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't try our damnedest to make it as shitty as possible for those who still subscribe to it.
I mean, there are times where I get off social media. There are times where I just don't pursue stories like that because I simply cannot. The benefit of that now is I think there are more people in a position to take on those stories. Like, it's never just been me. I'm not the sole voice who's pushing, but there are more now. And I think that's great. And so there are moments of guilt and being like, "Well, I can step away from this. I'm inherently privileged in that way. But if I don't take five, I'm not going to be able to go the distance."
And so one difficult lesson that I've learned when doing this type of work is that no matter what you do, somebody is going to disagree with you, somebody's going to hate you. Somebody is going to think you're an asshole, somebody's going to think you're doing it wrong. They could do it better and like that's hard to deal with on a regular basis. But I think as long as you look at your actions from every perspective and say, why am I doing this? What is the short term benefit? What is the long term benefit? And if you're really honest with yourself and that's kind of the annoyingly ethereal touch point that I give to people just like, if you can sleep at night knowing you tried your hardest and that Monday is going to be different than Friday is going to be different than Sunday in terms of what you can give and what you can absorb as long as you can sleep at night, then it doesn't really matter what other people say because only you know your tap-out point.
Right. There's also burnout I think when it comes to the entire culture around craft beer because I know you semi-recently tweeted about writing about being over quote-unquote, "craft beer culture". And I felt that tweet in my very bones. Well, I think to some, it might not be immediately clear what we mean when we say something like that. You can say be in love with craft beer but not so much craft beer culture. So how would you differentiate there? Why do you personally feel over that culture? Why do you still love craft beer itself?
Beth: Yeah, I wouldn't say I'm totally over because if I was, I wouldn't give a shit about improving it. You know what I mean? I would say that…thankfully, it is no longer the defining characteristic of me and my life. For a long time, I waited in line for the hype releases. I would go to the beer fests like this, that, and the other. And I grew up and I do have other priorities and I do have other interests. And I have a kid and he's not a baby. We go out and we do stuff. And that, to me, is way more fun than chasing the latest release or something like that. Yeah, I mean, I think it's also just—I don't know. I wouldn't say I'm like completely over craft beer because I've got beer in the fridge. I like beer. I'm always going to like beer. I like drinking beer. I like the taste of it. I like judging it through BJCP. I like writing about it. But do I feel the need to make it my world? No, I just don't. And I don't think it's healthy for me mentally or physically anymore. And so, do yoga or take up chess or just find something else besides just beer because it's—I mean, maybe other people who are newer to it feel differently. But I'm just kind of like, "Oh, you're a beer person? Oh, that sucks."
Yes, I feel that. So in addition to writing stories, running initiatives, hosting podcasts, beer judging, much more—and we're just obviously talking about your work—you're also writing a book, which I'm very excited about. I don't know what you can share as you're just working on it, but can you talk a little bit about it?
Beth: Yeah. So I am writing a book called The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, and it was really inspired by—Well, I'll tell you what it's about first. So it's basically, if you like beer, here are some ciders that you might like. Here's why. Because there are a lot of preconceived notions about cider, especially in the United States, because 80% of the cider industry is dominated by Angry Orchard. So if you've drank cider, there's an 80% chance that it's Angry Orchard and it's sort of this one thing and cider is just so much more than that.
And so I think it really came about, the idea for the book, in 2020. I went to CiderCon which is the American Cider Association's annual trade conference and I was on a panel with—there was a wine person, a cider person, and I was the beer person. We did these side-by-side tastings where it was like, "If you like this beer or this wine, you might like this cider. Here's why." And we kind of unpacked the flavors, the mouthfeel, the finish, the aroma, etc. And people were so psyched to have a beer person there because the cider world is—I mean, compared to beer, too—is teeny tiny. But it's growing and it's growing a lot. And I think there are a lot of similarities, not just in flavor because cider's completely different than beer. I mean, it's wine straight up. But in food pairing, in the appreciation for craft, if you have a favorite hop variety, there's no reason why you can't have a favorite apple variety.
And I think that the typical craft beer consumer is kind of aging up a little bit and the new drinkers coming into their 20s are a lot less segment-loyal than they have been in the past. They’ll drink anything. The base spirit doesn't matter to people. So they just want to have a very specific flavor. And I think that cider has a lot of potential. It has a lot of room to grow. And if you are either a new drinker looking for direction on how to experience cider or you are an experienced beer drinker and you are getting a little bit bored, which is like me to a T, here is a jumping-off point. Is it going to be the ultimate cider guide of the entire universe? No. But it'll give people direction if they're just like, "Well, isn't cider just like really sweet and this and that?" It's like, "No, look for these things, and then start to decide for yourself." So it'll take a little bit of an open mind to read it. But that's what I'm working on and it's exciting. I mean, it's a career step for any writer. And it's just personally interesting to me. I love cider. I'm really learning to love it through this process. And so I don't have like a date or even estimate when it'll come out. It's my first time doing this. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, but it’s fun.
Beer Tarot!
This week, I pulled the Three of Cups.
Cups is the sign of love, emotions, and relationships, and the Three of Cups speaks to friendship, collaborating, and creativity. I love this card because it’s all about working together and lifting each other up and elevating each other’s ideas, and there’s a sisterhood angle to all of it. To me, this card has major “underrepresented voices in beer working together to highlight each other” vibes.
There’s also a more casual element to this card, which is just to tell you: go hang with your friends! It’s literally, truly, genuinely good for you. Make time to kick back with the people you feel really feed your soul—and vice versa. Relish that energy and what it does for you. And, if you’re feeling creative, or have a project on your mind, think about how people in your life can pitch in with their own talents and make it all shine. The Three of Cups is honestly pretty simple, beautifully so. Have laughs with your friends, work with your friends, and never underestimate the power of collaboration.
This might as well be the official tarot card of Pink Boots Society collab brews, right? There are tons to choose from—make sure you’re seeking out your own local PBS collabs—but I’m going to shout out Torch & Crown’s Magnetic Energy pale ale. It’s brewed with members of PBS, inspired by NYC historical preservation activist Margot Gayle, and proceeds go to both the national PBS organization and the NYC chapter. If you’re local, there’s a launch event for Magnetic Energy at Torch & Crown on April 8.
This Week’s Boozy Media Rec
Last week I alluded that I had some Good Beer Hunting catching up to do, so you can expect a few recs coming from that direction. Today, Kate Bernot’s “Kyiv Calling — Amid Invasion, Campaigners Work to Make Ukrainian Golden Ale an Official Beer Style.” One of the things I am constantly struck by is the work that Ukrainian people are doing to champion their culture, rally for the humanitarian relief effort for their fellow Ukrainians, and generally keep momentum and energy up in their country and beyond despite being fucking invaded. The courage, the strength, the resilience. I thought about this with all the different brewing collaborations going on, when I read Vulture’s piece on Ukrainian comics going online, and when reading Kate’s piece, about the crusade to stake out a piece of the beer industry pie with a beer style style that is all Ukraine’s own. It brings up a lot of questions, points, frustrations, and observations when you read it, about the bureaucracy in the beer world, what it takes for a new style to be firmly declared. Personally, I feel the evidence is there: make Ukrainian Golden Ale an official style. The identifiers are there, as are the clear contributions to global beer that Ukraine makes. Let’s champion Ukrainian culture, and perhaps this can be a launchpad for more donation-garnering collabs.
Ex-BEER-ience of the Week
This past Saturday, the Time Out Market New York here in Brooklyn had a Love Local Beer Fest, a really lovely event where a handful of NYC breweries were pouring free tastings that could be enjoyed on the market’s rooftop with those killer Dumbo views. This reached so far beyond the typical “beer scene”—I overheard lots of people who didn’t seem to normally drink beer trying and loving brews from KCBC, TALEA, Sixpoint, Threes, Coney Island, and Brooklyn Brewery. It made me think of how when I was in Chicago in October, the Time Out Market there was one of the places I used to try some local breweries I wasn’t going to have time to visit. So, good to know if you’re in the area, there’s a solid local beer list and the experience of rooftop drinking without having to don a “going out top” and pay $28 for a bad cocktail.
Until next week, here is a moody shot of Darby with an Other Half haul, because I’ve been going back through the archives for this and woof, we’ve reached late March/early April 2020 and the days of stocking up on to-go-only beer.
