What does it take to start a beer trend? When Brut IPA emerged from San Francisco’s now shuttered Social Kitchen and Brewery back in 2018, the idea was quickly picked up and copied the world over. The style fast-became a simulacrum of itself; based on an idea of a beer, rather than any tasting experiences or proper, boots-on-the ground research.
It didn’t matter that the idea of using enzymes to ferment dry was an already years-old brewing technique used, for example, since 2012 by Cornwall’s St. Austell Brewery in its Big Job IPA. What mattered most was that there was a bandwagon to be leapt upon, and countless new SKUs to be sold. Every new version seemed like a less-good example of the one that came before it. I wasn’t surprised when the trend petered out to a whimper just months later.
When Cold IPA arrived on the scene in 2022, its existence was met with a similar ‘creative’ fervour. I was lucky enough to interview its originator, Kevin Davey of Oregon’s Wayfinder Beer, around the time of its emergence. He admitted, tongue in cheek, that giving the style a new name was something of a deliberate decision to drive interest. Unlike the original Brut IPA, I did get to try Wayfinder’s Cold IPA at GABF in Denver during 2022 and I thought it was very good, excellent even. But there didn’t need to be 100s, if not 1000s of very average copies of it. This was enough, I thought.
Derek Bates is not a brewer to follow trends. The co-founder and head brewer of Norfolk’s Duration Brewing is as happy making lime-infused grisettes and quaffable light lagers as he is the hoppy pale ales and IPAs that no doubt keep the brewery lights on. I’ve known Bates for a long time. Originally hailing from South Carolina, I consider that he emerged as one of the best modern beer-makers in the UK during his time as head brewer at the formerly London-based Brew By Numbers (which is now part of a brewing consortium based in Masham, North Yorkshire.) Anyone who was drinking those little Citra and Mosaic session IPAs and—yes—lime grisettes back around 2016 will know the pedigree I speak of.
It’s a streak of form that has not just continued, but improved since he and wife Miranda Hudson launched Duration in 2019. The pair have also become good friends of mine, and I relish visits to their home in the Norfolk countryside, which are bookended by great beers, and plenty of bourbon enjoyed around an open fire late into the evening. It’s given me great familiarity and fondness for the beer they make, and their destination-brewery project as a whole. Honestly, we’re lucky to have them.
So when Bates dropped me a text to say he was going to try an unusual ingredient in a new pale ale, I felt permitted to allow myself a single, cynical eyebrow-raise. But I also understood that this is a brewer—not to mention an accomplished ex-chef—who knows exactly what he’s doing and why. The beer, called ‘Crisps’ and brewed in collaboration with London’s Five Points, was to feature a base of pale malt, juicy Riwaka and Nelson Sauvin hops from New Zealand, plus a sprinkling of flavour enhancer E621—more commonly known as monosodium glutamate, or MSG.
The initial idea came from Duration’s brewery manager Andy Arkley, who thought it would be fun to develop a play on Five Points’ XPA by producing an extra extra pale ale, or XXPA. The addition of flaked rice along with pale barley malt in the grist intends to give the beer a lean body, perfect for showcasing New Zealand hop varieties which, as Bates explains, are known for both their fruity and savoury qualities.
“MSG takes the existing flavours and makes them ‘pop’ more, like sprinkling a little sparkle on what is already there.”
“It dawned on me something that lean with those hops would be a perfect vehicle to try MSG in, which is something I've toyed around with but never went full guns,” Bates says. “I tinkered with some dosing rates using our Good Times [lager] as a blending agent… [I] found one that seemed suitable and decided to pull the trigger on the whole batch of Crisps, and I think it came out well.”
Salt in beer is, as any brewer worth their, well… never mind, is far from uncommon. In its most basic form calcium sulphate—perhaps better known as gypsum—has been used to alter water chemistry through a process known as ‘Burtonisation’ for decades. But the history of salt in beer goes deeper than mere water chemistry. In the US, drinkers have been salting their beer for various reasons for decades. Examples cite it being used by drinkers at the bar to improve the palatability of post-prohibition beers. While ‘savoury’ is not a concept we might automatically associate with beer, it is one of its characteristics that, perhaps even subconsciously, has always been desirable.
But MSG is not salt. It is used in a similar way, as a seasoning, and is created via natural means—essentially fermentation—but it does not react with the same flavour receptors on your tongue as salt does. It has a controversial past—which I won’t go into here—but the long and short of it is that MSG is not bad for you. (This excellent podcast produced by food writers Lucy Dearlove and Anna Sulan Masing is a good primer if you’d like to learn more about MSG.) Instead, MSG works by stimulating your umami receptors, dialling the volume knob up on certain flavours, say, for example the lime juice and white grape notes found in Riwaka and Nelson Sauvin hops.
And that’s what Crisps gives you. The ultra-light body makes it drink like a light lager, but it just keeps gently hitting you with soft, lapping ocean waves of fruit and zest, with perhaps a little savoury herbaceousness creeping in around the edges. But maybe that’s psychosomatic, because I know the beer contains a small amount of MSG, and it’s called ‘Crisps’. I imagine most people won’t check that fact, but they will find a beer that they can’t, for some reason, seem to put down.
“MSG takes the existing flavours and makes them ‘pop’ more, like sprinkling a little sparkle on what is already there,” Bates says. “It gives that craveability to want to go back for more, like an itch you can't scratch. You don't know exactly what it is and can't quite put your finger on it but it makes you want to return for just one more sip.”
Perhaps savoury isn’t the right word here. There are other, better, words I would use to describe this beer such as ‘bright’, ‘luminous’, or perhaps my favourite of all ‘resonant’. But ‘Resonant IPA’ doesn’t sound like a style that will trend well amongst the LinkedIn marketing set. Savoury though, that’s tangible and, most importantly, communicable.
The MSG worked so well in this beer I’d be angry if Duration didn’t repeat the act a second time. But does that mean it needs to become a ‘thing’? Now it exists on the Internet as well as in real life, maybe it will. All it takes is a few brewers reading this and deciding to try MSG for themselves. On this evidence, however, they’ll do well to get even close to a beer this good, as whatever they did during its development, Crisps is a beer that really sings.