From Russia, With Beer
Beer has never gained a respectable foothold in the Russian pantry, and with good reason. For decades the Soviet-produced Zhigulyovskoye was the only beer available. Based on loose, forgiving recipes, the quality of this beer varied so greatly that consumers could never be quite sure what they might taste after plunking down a few kopeks for a bottle. To add insult to injury, even this Soviet-sludge was usually difficult to come by. “No Beer” signs were often permanently affixed to shop windows, and the expression itself came to mean the expected shortage of any desirable good or service. “No beer, right?” was the question heard in regard to almost any product, from tennis shoes to orange juice.
So it was with some surprise that I spotted the familiar white buckets, spigots, cappers, and cans of malt extract lining the window of a small Russian homebrewing shop. Zao Konkord Master is located in a pavilion of the former Soviet Achievement and Exhibition Center. This center, once a paean to the technical and agricultural accomplishments of the USSR, has become a giant, bustling shopping mall with stores offering every sort of merchandise from leather boots to washing machines. Russians with money throng the pavilions, seeking the latest offerings of merchandise from the west. Konkord Master was opened at this location in the summer of 1997 under the auspices of the Russian beer manufacturer “Konkord.”
Russian Homebrewing
The tradition of homebrewing is far from a new phenomenon in Russia. Natives have long fermented their own Kvass, a mildly alcoholic drink made with rye bread, and legends abound concerning homemade Samoogon, a type of moonshine liquor distilled in the balconies, back rooms, and dachas of the Soviet citizenry. Beer, however, has been left out, long considered a drink occupying the lowest rung on the ladder of alcoholic beverages.
But this perception seems to be changing. Zao Konkord Master is one of several stores in Moscow now selling equipment and ingredients for homebrewing. Marina Nikitina, the store’s saleswoman, has been working in the homebrewing store since it opened. She says the equipment and ingredients for homebrewing have been in Russia for about five years, but now the hobby has gained real popularity.
Customer Mikhail Perfilyev began brewing beer about six months ago. “I want to drink good beer, not the kind I can buy at kiosks,” he says. “I can make better beer than anything else I’ve tried.” His wife adds that it is important for a person to have a hobby, as well. She doesn’t especially like beer but has tried Perfilyev’s beer and says it seems better than store-bought bottles. “His friends like it,” she says. “No one can believe he can make such good beer at home.”
Asked if there were any difficulties in brewing beer at home, he admits that at least half of his first batch exploded. Nikitina says this was because he used tap water instead of distilled, a notoriously bad idea. “The water here has God-knows-what swimming around in it,” she advises. “You really have to use bottled or distilled water or else who knows what will happen to your beer.” When she turns away, Perfilyev confides that he still uses tap water because it is more convenient; the explosions probably occurred due to the high temperatures of the Moscow summer.
Storage space is a problem. The average Muscovite still resides in a one- or two-room apartment, leaving room for bottles of fermenting beer only on the balcony or in the hallway. Nikitina admits some other customers have also complained of bursting bottles in the summer but says it doesn’t seem to slow anyone down. “People want to drink good beer,” she says. “They don’t mind a tiny mess every now and then.”
Coming In From the Cold
So why the changing attitude toward beer? “People have had a chance to try various Western-style beers, and they realize there are a lot of differences among the styles,” says Nikitina. “But buying these products in the store is often very expensive. Now they realize they can make the same thing at home.”
Nikitina theorizes that there has been a shift in attitudes about beer since the collapse of the Soviet Union. “Were you ever here during Soviet times?” she asks. “Thank God for that,” she nods to my negative reply. “Back then, you could only buy terrible beer. Nothing else was available. It was a drink for alcoholics,” she says, clucking her tongue and snapping her finger at her neck in the traditional sign of drunkenness. “But now, it has become a new trend to try different beers, to select the type of beer that complements different types of food. Now drinking beer can be very prestigious.”
Her observations seem warranted. Take, for example, the Beer Lover’s Party, one of the 43 officially registered Russian political parties that vied for representation in the 1995 State Duma election. While the stated basis of the party’s organization may seem frivolous, it does indicate a rather positive attitude toward beer. “Our goal is to reduce stress in society and to make people feel better with the help of beer,” said party leader Constantine Kalachyov, quoted by Reuters at a news conference. “People who drink vodka are harsh and mean, while people who drink beer are soft and nice,” he said. “We want to put beer drinkers in the Kremlin.”
Two glossy Russian magazines aimed at professional brewers and beer enthusiasts have recently entered the market. The Beer Counter had its first issue in the fall of 1997 and includes articles about different beer companies, competitions, and pubs. For Those Who Value Beer is a similar magazine, presented in a tabloid format with lots of photos of beautiful women drinking beer. Among various topics, this magazine covers “Beerophilia,” providing tips for collecting various paraphernalia, the history of beer, recipes, and articles on “Beer and Medicine” and “Beer and Sex.” Both magazines have a beer humor section containing the usual sorts of Russian jokes that fail to translate well, although the picture of the Mir space station flying with a keg of beer attached to the top may provide an insight to the uneven performance of last year.
According to a poll by the Russian advertising agency Aurora, consumers with a higher education make up the largest percentage of those who regularly drink beer. The summer of 1997 saw “Moscow Beer Day,” the first such festival of its kind. Additionally, the beer industry is busy touting beer as the “healthy” alternative to vodka. It may seem strange to be told that drinking beer constitutes improving your health, but some rather grim statistics might lead one to the same conclusion: Russian men consume on average 13.6 liters of vodka a year and have a life expectancy of only 57 years, and more than 40,000 people in Russia annually die of alcohol poisoning, mainly due to illegally produced vodka.
Just in case this sort of evidence doesn’t convince one of the social prestige of beer, Zao Konkord Master hands out a flier entitled “The Advantages of Beer.” This list, taken from A Book About Beer by V.N. Dovganya, published in 1995, offers a variety of enticing reasons to become a habitual beer drinker. For example beer cures toothaches. Beer contains a variety of minerals, vitamins, amino acids, and other healthy substances that can lower blood pressure, improve skin color and blood strength, chase away carcinogenic agents from the body, deliver strong and healthy dreams, and in general improve overall health. Beer has fewer calories than fruit juice or soda and does not contain such deleterious substances as sugar or fructose.
Beer is also recommended for nursing mothers. According to the list, almost all of the authors of “old books” agree that after mother’s milk, beer is the most suitable beverage for children. Testimony is provided by none other than Arnold Schwarzenegger’s mom. Apparently, the Terminator was a sickly infant, and Mrs. Schwarzenegger followed advice to supplement his milk with a bit of beer. It was this diet, she believed, that led him to become such a big, strong adult.
Real Men Drink Light Beers
Two young men enter the store, inquiring about buying a beer kit. They are impressed by the different styles available and by the inexpensive beer possible but are dismayed by the length of time needed before they will have the first batch. “Almost three weeks!” says one. “What are we supposed to do until then?” Nonetheless, they buy a beer kit. Within a half-hour, three customers purchase full beer kits and several more drop by to buy supplies.
“There is a genuine boom in the beer industry right now,” Nikitina says. “As Russians become more health minded and stop drinking so much vodka, the consumption of beer increases.” The store sells everything but bottles, which Nikitina says are readily available at any kiosk for free, as recycling has not yet reached Moscow.
All of the available malt extracts and recipes are based on Western styles. Russians have yet to establish a homegrown variety, although a country that created horseradish vodka could be expected to come up with something interesting. Asked for her own personal preference, Nikitina says she likes English ales, although she has noticed that men seem to prefer the lighter beer and women tend to like darker beers, such as porters. “You know Russian men,” she says. “They don’t want anything to be sweet.”
