

Ten years ago, right about the moment the second wave of IPAs were being brewed in America, Hopworks Urban Brewery opened in Portland. Its flagship was one of those new IPAs, characterized by bursting citrus aromas riding on top a classic caramel-malt chassis. At the time, Hopworks had a number of things going for it, including a bike-oriented theme in the bike-iest city in the country, and a focus on organic ales. But what propelled it to success--the brewery made 14,000 barrels last year--was that flagship.

But like every brewery of a certain age, those once-novel beers started to taste dated once the IPA's third wave arrived a few years ago. In a surprising, fascinating move, Hopworks has reformulated their flagship, a makeover that changes everything (including the label) except the name. I was fascinated to hear more about the challenges of breweries in this situation, and how Hopworks came to the decision to change the beer, so I sat down with founder Christian Ettinger, Head Brewer Trever Bass, and Marketing Manager Eric Steen to discuss it. Their story is one that is happening in brewery after brewery, and I thought I might learn a few lessons in hearing it.



The Conundrum

Tastes change. Any brewery that has been around a decade or more and built a customer base on popular brands has encountered this. Sometimes that means trends have moved away from a style that was once more popular (amber lagers, anyone?). More problematic is the situation in which IPA-makers find themselves. The style is wildly popular, but it has evolved. Breweries like Hopworks helped popularize IPAs, but made a version of the style that now seems old school, with more sweetness and body, assertive bitterness, but less focus on the flavors and aromas of hops.

When I sat down with Trever, Christian, and Eric, I sampled the original IPA to remind myself what they were leaving behind. Hopworks has always used an English yeast strain, and their original formulation has a fair dose of caramel in the palate. It is somewhat aromatic, but nothing compared to the IPAs that excite people today. That blend of flavors produces a distinctly British character, which was typical of brewpubs for the first twenty years of craft brewing. It's a nice beer, quite nice, actually--but there's a distinct time-travel quality about ordering up a pint.

But here's the thing: switch the formulation and you have two problems: 1) you may alienate the people who already like the beer--your core customers--but also 2) the people who have moved on and seek super-juicy modern IPAs may never find it. “That’s a discussion we’ve had," Bass said. "Is it going to turn some people off? Sure. You can’t not offend somebody by making a change. But hopefully what we can do is bring in more customers than we lose and have more of what people think of when they think of an IPA.”

Ettinger, the founder, who presumably formulated his perfect IPA ten years ago, was even less sentimental.