Top 10 Beers of the Year
3 Floyds Zombie Dust (Munster, Indiana) On a visit to Chicago in early July—whether in a dive bar or in the stands at Wrigley—it was a hedonistic delight to get reacquainted with this titan that’s as Midwestern as hotdish and tavern-cut pizza. They still call it a “pale ale,” but it’s big and malty and bitter enough to drink like an old-school American IPA—and when I say I miss those, I’m rudely overlooking all those in the region that are keeping that flame alive.
Alma Mader Reflection Chamber 2024 (Kansas City, Missouri) This brewery is small and so is its barrel program; Alma Mader is better known locally for making some exceptional pilsners and IPAs. Yet this barleywine aged in Heaven Hill barrels came as close as you can get, in blind judging, to cracking our Best 20 Beers in 2025. Its flavors include every subtle level of caramelized-sugary darkness you can imagine—rich gradients of caramel, toffee, molasses—with roasty edges, smoky tinges, tangy dried-fruit esters, and just enough tannic edge to regulate all that sweetness and invite you back to the glass for further education.
Cassels Milk Stout (Woolston, Canterbury, New Zealand) When you get the chance to go to New Zealand for hop harvest, you’re immediately seeking all the fresh-hopped ales you can find—and we did. So, I’m pleasantly surprised to look back and realize this was my standout beer of that trip. Drinkable enough at 5.2 percent ABV that pint after pint can slip down my gullet, yet just rich and sweet enough to appease my simpleton inner child who—deep down—really just wants a cold glass of chocolate milk.
Giesinger Feines Pilschen (Munich) At nearly two decades old, Giesinger is a mewling babe among Munich’s ancient monuments of lager and weissbier. Yet it’s built a strong following since opening as a garage brewery in 2006, and its taproom on the Viktualienmarkt is bustling. That’s where I got stuck into this pils—which, like many Bavarian pilsners, features an endearing zesty-herbal hop aroma and flavor… while this one, more than most, packs an addictively bitter punch.
Is/Was Bourgeois Daydreams (Chicago) There’s an alternate reality somewhere in the multiverse where all breweries, to be taken seriously, must offer a year-round, mixed-culture table beer of about 3.2 percent ABV. And in that world, we’re crushing them all summer. This is a core beer for Is/Was, as drinkable as a pilsner but with some bright, rustic depth—floral, slightly spicy and earthy, with a lemony edge that might be driven by grains, hops, fermentation, or all of the above. In our own reality: I don’t know how to sell these, but I know how to buy and drink them. For a recipe, see beerandbrewing.com.
Otherlands Household Gods (Bellingham, Washington) With fewer than 100,000 people, Chuckanut’s birthplace makes a strong case for greatest American lager city on a per-capita basis. At Otherlands, Ben Howe and Karolina Lobrow have made it their mission to capture Franconian-style hospitality, and this is the beer that best captures what you might find in the krug at the keller on its best day—earthy bitterness and minerality, a kiss of bready-malt sweetness, and a fascinating peachy ester. They’re pouring this kind of thing on gravity from stichfass a few nights a week; if you can’t get to Franconia, maybe you can get to Bellingham.
Samata Mango Sticky Rice (Bangkok, Thailand) I am a fruit-beer enjoyer—writing about them has helped me to appreciate the art—and this was easily my favorite of the past year. There’s a particular point of ripeness you want with the Nam Dok Mai mango, and Samata’s Khun Chote—the Bret Kollmann Baker of Thailand—manages to capture it perfectly in this beer, adding a creamy coconut-milk drizzle and light touch of salt. It’s as hard to stop sipping this beer as it is to stop eating one of the world’s great dishes when it’s in peak form, and you’re shoveling it into your mouth with a plastic fork on a street corner, wondering how life could possibly get any better.
Seoul Gypsy Sopoong Saison (Seoul, South Korea) My favorite playground as a middling homebrewer is hoppy saison, so I’ll always buy one if I see it in the wild—and it’s a fixture at Seoul Gypsy, where the food and atmosphere are so comforting that the lovely beer is practically a bonus. In this case, hop-driven lime and passion fruit high-five the fermentation-driven lime peel and white-wine cellar, while a juicy midpalate livens up the smooth, earthy bitterness and dry finish. It’s a quencher that shines a bright light down new avenues to explore.
Únětická Pivo 12° (Únětice, Czechia) When I stayed in Prague on both ends of a trip to Budapest last winter, I went to the great Pult pub every night. I drank other lagers there, but this was what I really wanted and always returned to. Robustly bitter at 40-plus IBUs and finessed into incredible drinkability by everything that makes Czech lager great—not just the malts and the process, but also the superb attention to service and pouring at Pult. Shout out to Pult tapster Magda Hoppová and her team, who work the magic that makes the memories.
Widawa 12th Anniversary Barrel-Aged Imperial Baltic Porter (Chrząstawa Mała, Lower Silesia, Poland) Incredibly enticing aroma, like whiskey-soaked figs rolled in cocoa and dark brown sugar. There’s a big, lush body but not as much sweetness as you’d expect—tangy dark fruit, cocoa-powder bitterness, super-mellow roast, and it all just rounds together seamlessly. This is the work of a master.
A Song, A Beer, A Moment
It’s tempting here to go political—like maybe with Operation Ivy’s “The Crowd.” (Do we need a gathering instead?) But no, I’m going with an actual moment and the rather ordinary advice to center yourself by finding your happy place. Mine is a deck overlooking Table Rock Lake in southwest Missouri’s Ozarks, where we gathered to celebrate my sister’s birthday. The song was from that great Midwestern rock troubadour, Bob Seger: “Fire Lake,” which you might think has some deep symbolic meaning—but no, friends, it’s just a song about what a joy it is to go to the fuckin’ lake. The beer is 2nd Shift Art of Neurosis, a great Midwestern IPA to go with a very Midwestern tune and sentiment
What Convinced Me that Craft Beer Is Not Dead
One of the last things I got to do in Bangkok before leaving was attend the first Thailand Craft Beer Awards—a gala event, so we dressed up, and that’s every bit as funny as it would be if American brewers had to don tuxes and formal dresses for the GABF awards. We drank, we danced, and a bunch of really good brewers got to celebrate each other’s work and the upward trajectory of Thai craft beer. Thailand isn’t alone in that—there are many places around the world where brewers aren’t only getting inspiration from abroad, but they’re also finding their own voices. Craft beer is dead. Long live craft beer.
