There were brewers in the County long before the winemakers arrived. The Hallowell Free Press, forerunner of the Picton Gazette, features many ads, like the one from Abner Nash in 1831:

BEER!!! BEER!! The subscriber has on hand and continues to manufacture BEER of a superior quality, which he would like to exchange for cash. All orders in his line will be thankfully received and promptly attended to.

Before the Instagram age, the only visual required was a few exclamation points.

This was decades before the famed “Barley Days” of the 1860s through 1880s, which began when the American Civil War’s tax on whisky drove drinkers to beer. The County sent the key ingredients — barley and hops — to New York State. Barley was one third of all the County’s crops. Just as it was a tax that launched these decades of prosperity, it was an American tariff that brought them to a close in 1890.

Skip to the 21st century and a brewing revival is underway. Along the edges of what is now the County’s trademark industry, represented by 50-some wineries, are 10 craft breweries, each of a different size and approach to a trade that is constantly in motion.

I spoke to three local brewers to get an idea of what it’s like. The stories overlap. All cited the sense of community among brewers both here and across the region. This is a group willing to share resources, team up for events, and collaborate on a special product. They are also perfectly happy to sell another brewery’s beer alongside their own.

There is no sense of competition. As Ryan Kreutzwiser of Lake on the Mountain Brewing puts it, “it’s nice that you’ve got nine or ten brewers in the county right now. It’s great to have that critical mass, because nobody’s going to travel to the county for just one, right?

“Fortunately the wineries had already populated this area. So you had a lot of people that were into craft wine. Craft beer isn’t such a hard sell: it just mixes in with all of the culinary aspects that already draw people here.”

Neither winemaking nor brewing is an agricultural industry the way that barley was, or the peas and tomatoes that would follow as major County exports. Instead, they are social products, their makers more focused on bringing the customers to the place where they are made rather than exporting them.

Although agritourism is the model, the breweries strive for year-round business. Ideally, they’d love to be “the local.” All are concerned with the questions of economic sustainability in a tough year.

The pandemic created a high mark; restricted travel options intensified numbers here. Justin da Silva of Bloomfield’s Matron Fine Beer explains: “we’ve had two challenging years coming out of the pandemic. We are kind of treating this like year one all over again. All the data we had before doesn’t really matter. The cost of goods is totally different than it was in 2019 and then 2020-2021, that was all in a vacuum.”

A consistent refrain is the burden of both taxes and regulations in Ontario.

As Mr. da Silva puts it, “tax is our most expensive ingredient!”

Provincial distribution arrangements further benefit mass producers rather than the small breweries trying to create unique and interesting products.

Each brewery approaches the challenges differently. Mr. Kreutzwiser’s business developed out of the restaurants at Lake on the Mountain Resort, where he started out brewing for one in 2007. By 2013 it was two.

Then, in 2016, the opportunity to change from a brew pub to a brewery presented itself, at the same time that the first wave of larger breweries, like Parson’s and Prince Eddie’s, came to the County.

“Everybody was opening. It was like, bang, bang, bang!” he remembers. Lake on the Mountain does a steady business in draft beer sold on site and in cans to take away.

Mr. da Silva’s model is different. Matron is a “production brewery”—meaning that they produce on a greater scale and look beyond the County for their market, distributing to Toronto and Ottawa, and listing with the LCBO. At the same time, its Bloomfield location, just off the beaten track down Barker’s Lane, has become a retreat for private events.

Matron’s flagship beer is their Janky IPA, originally named for the pleasure of off-beat variability. Ironically, given their business model of taking their product to the next level of scale and distribution, especially through the LCBO, their signature beer now needs to be consistent. It is not one of those overbearing IPAs, aggresively piney, but rather nice on the nose with a touch of citrus.

Gillingham Brewing in Hillier, meanwhile, is on location at the family’s winery, Domaine Darius. Two of the strongest attractions in County agritourism in one place.

The dedication of each of these brewers to their craft is remarkable. Passion drives them. Stories of starting in the home kitchen and basement are the norm. The desire to share the pleasure of creation brings them to the market. What we look for in food and hospitality more generally, the comforts of home, nostalgia, and simplicity, are on offer in all of the breweries here.

A small-scale microbrewery that does not list with the LCBO, Gillingham is nevertheless an active player. It won silver at the Canadian Brewing Awards this year, for their Jack’s Black Lager—not their only award-winning brew. Jack’s Black is dark and smooth, with hints of coffee, molasses and chocolate, yet not sweet.

Christine Gillingham, whose husband Andrew is the brewer of the two, is proud of their success; there are many competitors across the province, never mind the country.

Nonetheless, a strong, hyper-local clientele, mainly from Wellington, is key. “Our mission statement, if you will, is to create a comfortable space for everyone where friendships are established. And, you know, it becomes your local place — and it truly has for us.”

Now in their fifth year, Gillingham also attracts “regulars” from away who return in vacation season.

The winter can be tough. “January,” says Ms. Gillingham, with a pause. “We don’t do many events because it’s just not worth it yet. But I say ‘yet’: I am very optimistic.”

The business model at Gillingham is “not to get that large. We like to produce a small batch. Everything we produce we sell out of, and ‘what you can only find on the island’ works for our brand.”

“We like to do it like that because it allows Andrew to be more experimentative.”

That is one of the key advantages of the small-scale model.

“I always found that fun,” says Ryan Kreutzwiser, about making up new recipes. And he pays it forward. Lake on the Mountain’s brewer, Brett Abrams, trained for three years with Mr. Kreutzwiser, just until he was ready to create his own brew, an Irish Red. Researching and working together, they first used the small, 50-litre “pilot system” to try it out. This smooth, heart-warming ale is called Abe’s, to celbrate its maker’s success.

The full vote of confidence came when Lake on the Mountain decided to design a label and can it for sale.

This old-fashioned apprenticeship model is “kind of how the brewing industry has always worked.” Mr. Kreutzwiser and his partner, Danielle Chretien, blend this tradition with modern agritourism of their own: the couple travels to various places in the world, tasting local beers, and getting new ideas.

The dedication of each of these brewers to their craft is remarkable. Passion drives them. Stories of starting in the home kitchen and basement are the norm. The desire to share the pleasure of creation brings them to the market. What we look for in food and hospitality more generally, the comforts of home, nostalgia, and simplicity, are on offer in all of the breweries here.

As Mr. da Silva puts it, “people are just, like, ‘man I love this. Like this is so cool. Thank you for doing that’.”

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