The Art of The Brew: Brewing From Tradition and Cultural Memory

I n a recent event hosted by the Simons Foundation, titled “Sensing a Memory,” experts gathered to explore the profound connections between science, culture, and society. Central to this discussion was the concept of memory—how personal and collective experiences shape our perceptions of the world around us. One particularly intriguing conversation centered on how individual memories and regional preferences influence the selection of ingredients in everyday products like beer. That’s when I knew I had to have a longer conversation with Garrett Oliver, the Brewmaster of The Brooklyn Brewery of over 30 years and Editor-in-Chief of The Oxford Companion to Beer about the power of aromatic plants and how scent and taste evoke memories.

This interview dives deeper into this topic with a focus on a creative approach to brewing, examining how cultural heritage and local traditions can shape the development of new plant-based beverages. The brewmaster Garrett Oliver in this interview, known for blending innovation with tradition, offers insights into how ingredients like caraway and bog myrtle evoke distinct regional identities, as well as how sensory experiences such as aroma can trigger memories and emotions. The conversation reveals the intersection of flavor, memory, and culture, where even the simplest ingredients have the power to evoke rich, multisensory stories.

From his expertise in crafting regional brews to his experiments with ancient herbs and spices, the brewmaster’s reflections offer a thoughtful perspective on how traditional ingredients continue to inspire contemporary beer-making, fostering connections between past and present, memory and taste.

Gayil Nalls: At the recent Simons Foundation event “Sensing a Memory,” the discussion explored the connections between science, culture, and society. You brought up the idea of individual memories and regional preferences associated with the selection of certain plant ingredients in beers. Can you elaborate?

Garrett Oliver: One of my favorite projects was a beer we called Aquavit. We made a beer based on the Belgian-style wheat beer, also known as witbier. You might be familiar with a more commercial version like Blue Moon Belgian White, or an Allagash White from Maine. The classic version would be Hoegaarden from Belgium. These wheat beers are traditionally spiced with Curaçao orange peel and coriander, giving them a bright, fresh character.

For our special beer intended for Sweden, we replaced the Curaçao orange peel and coriander with the flavors that characterize Aquavit. Aquavit is a well-known spirit throughout Scandinavia, though its significance varies country to country. In Sweden, Aquavit represents the essence of summer, a time eagerly anticipated due to the long, dark winters. In contrast, in Norway and Denmark, Aquavit is more associated with the winter months.

The leading aromatic in Aquavit is caraway, like how juniper is central to gin. When people think of gin, juniper is the first thing that comes to mind; for Aquavit, it’s caraway. We collaborated with a small, organic Aquavit producer to obtain the caraway and other ingredients that provide Aquavit’s distinct aroma.

The idea was that the basic framework of the beer would be familiar, but with flavors reminiscent of Aquavit, evoking the essence of summer for Swedish drinkers. It was amusing to watch their reactions—they would often laugh before even tasting the beer, as the aroma seemingly triggered a sense memory. It’s not about mimicking something exactly but rather about creating an impressionist version of a flavor or idea that sparks a memory and evokes a particular feeling.

Bog Myrtle (Myrica gale) has a sweet resinous aroma and preservative qualities and was included a lot in beer brewing traditions in Northern Europe. Now Hops (Humulus lupulas) serves that function and contributes aroma and flavor. Can you speak to the transition from using plants like Bog Myrtle to Hops in beer brewing?

Hops offer distinct advantages in brewing, primarily their clean bitterness and bacteriostatic properties. Beers flavored with hops tended to last much longer without souring compared to those brewed with other ingredients. This preservation quality was especially valuable before the advent of refrigeration and pasteurization. Beers that were not meant to be sour benefited greatly from hops, as they could last two to three times longer than non-hopped beers.

However, hops require specific growing conditions, including a lot of sunlight. This makes it challenging to cultivate them in northern Europe. As a result, countries like Norway, where hops are harder to grow, have maintained many traditional beer flavoring practices. For example, in Norway, there is a thriving cottage industry producing a type of smoked malt known as “strodos malt.” Smoked beer remains popular in parts of Norway, with numerous small producers continuing this tradition. There are also commercial beers made from this malt.

Similarly, the Bamberg area in Germany is renowned for its “Rauschbier” or smoked beer. This practice dates back to when malt was dried over fires, imparting a smoky flavor. This method is akin to the use of peat in whiskey production, where drying over a fire adds a distinctive flavor.

Before hops became dominant, beer was flavored with a blend of herbs and spices known as “gruit.” This mixture, akin to a bundle of aromatic herbs you might buy at a market, included ingredients like bog myrtle and yarrow. These herbs not only had medicinal properties but also contributed flavors to the beer. Gruits often contained bittering agents like wormwood to balance the sweetness of the beer, as bitterness or acidity was needed to counteract sweetness and create

In my World Sensorium research, I found that many iconic aromatic plants have been used in beers and other libations for centuries, leading to many regional beer variations today. For instance, in Scotland, Heather (Calluna vulgaris) has been used in ale since ancient times, while in Belgian-style beers, coriander (Carlandrum sativum) is a common spice component. In Norway and Finland, Juniper (Juniperus communis) berries and branches have been historically added to create a piney resinous flavor. You certainly know the range of plants that have been flavoring beers around the world for centuries. As a brewmaster and creative alchemist, how do you honor the past while crafting the future?

I think brewing, like cooking, can be a form of storytelling. Just as when you bake an apple pie, you’re not just making a dessert—you’re creating something within a range of flavors and aromas that are culturally expected. An apple pie made for Thanksgiving, for example, isn’t just about the pie itself but about the traditions and memories it represents: family, warmth, autumn, and plenty. Ingredients like cinnamon and nutmeg often come from family traditions, adding layers of meaning and history to the dish.

Over time, certain spices and flavors become part of our culinary narrative. For instance, cinnamon and nutmeg, while common today, weren’t always readily available. In colonial times, spices were expensive and less common. Similarly, Italian cuisine, often thought of as just tomato-based sauces, actually incorporates spices like cinnamon and nutmeg in its meat sauces. This subtle addition gives a complexity that reflects historical influences and regional tastes.

Ancient foods like garum, a fermented fish sauce used in Rome, have evolved into modern equivalents like Vietnamese fish sauce. Once a rarity, fish sauce is now widely available and adds a unique umami flavor to dishes. For example, adding a dash of fish sauce to green beans might be imperceptible to many but enhances the dish’s depth of flavor.

These flavors and ingredients, often introduced subtly, tell a story about how food and cooking evolve over time. They reflect how different cultures and ingredients intersect, creating a rich tapestry of culinary history.

The first impressions of most food and drink come from its aroma, enhancing the experience from start to finish. How do you establish such an experience, and how do you evoke memories in certain consumers?

One of my favorite examples right now is the lime-flavored lager I’ve been working on. We use a type of powdered lime juice that has a very authentic flavor. When you first smell it, before you even take a sip, the aroma of beer with lime is already evoked. For some people, this immediately resonates, like a light bulb going off. But if someone hasn’t had that experience before, my hope is that they’ll still enjoy the beer on its own.

However, this doesn’t always go as planned. Sometimes, you might introduce a flavor that you’re familiar with but your audience isn’t. For instance, I once created a beer called Quadracera Tops—a strong Belgian-style dark beer aged in rum barrels. The rum used in this beer was a traditional Caribbean type, which has a very complex and powerful flavor. Most Americans are used to a sweeter, more vanilla-like rum, like Bacardi, rather than the intense, “funky” rum I was aiming to showcase.

When I released this beer, it received poor ratings because the flavor was too unfamiliar for many American drinkers. Despite tasting great to me and my team, it didn’t meet the expectations of those used to a different style of rum. Ironically, when the beer was introduced in Sweden, it was well-received. Swedish drinkers are familiar with similar flavors from Swedish punch, which contains arak—a spirit with a powerful aromatic profile similar to the rum I used. This experience taught me that cultural background plays a significant role in how flavors are perceived.

Another example is a beer we made years ago based on the modern classic cocktail, Penicillin. This cocktail combines Scotch, ginger, honey, and lemon. Initially, we called the beer “The Tonic,” but the government prohibited that name due to its implication of a medicinal benefit. We ended up naming it “The Concoction.”

The beer was intended to reflect the flavors of the Penicillin cocktail, but when served in bars, many people didn’t understand the flavor profile. They expected a pale ale and were surprised by the unique taste, leading to confusion and negative reactions. The issue was that the necessary context and expectations weren’t communicated effectively, especially when the beer was served at bars where staff didn’t relay the cocktail inspiration.

This taught me a crucial lesson about the importance of setting expectations. If people are not prepared for a surprising flavor, they might not appreciate it. It’s essential to communicate clearly about what people should expect, especially when introducing something unconventional. This lesson in communication is humbling and highlights the importance of effectively conveying the full story behind a product.

Gayil Nalls, Ph.D., is the creator of World Sensorium and founder of the World Sensorium/Conservancy. She explores how plants and humans shape each other’s story. 

Photographs by Gayil Nalls