The beer boom As part of a wider flowering of Rhode Island suds, the fabled Narragansett Beer seeks a fresh audience BY IAN DONNIS

During the distant heyday of Narragansett Brewing, workers at the Cranston brewery enjoyed not just solid pay and good benefits, but complimentary beer and the encouragement to drink it. frequent advertising and the familiar slogan — "Hi, neighbor, have a ’Gansett" — combined to make the brew the top-selling brand throughout New England. Although Rhode Island might have dwelled in the shadow of Boston, Little Rhody more than held its own when it came to fostering a combo, beer and organized crime, in keeping with the state’s picaresque history, with the former generating no small share of local pride. If a worker spotted someone drinking a Heineken in the bar at the brewery, according to an account published in American Breweriana Journal, he would ask, "Why would you want to keep someone working in Holland instead of the people in your own neighborhood?"

If this idealized state — which crested in the early 1960s, when Narragansett set a company record by selling more than one million barrels of beer — sounded too good to last, it was. Changes in management, the growing dominance of big national brewers, the opportunity for ownership to cash in, and the subsequent idling of the Cranston brewery steadily diminished the Narragansett brand, relegating the beer to a pasture of archaic zombie brews like Schaefer and National Bohemian Beer — still available, although in a forlorn state, with a shrinking customer base of aging gray hairs and, perhaps, a scattering of ironic hipsters.

Into this milieu comes Mark Hellendrung, an East Providence native who found success in the business world by joining the two fellow Brown University graduates behind Nantucket Nectars. Casting about in recent years for a new challenge after the multinational Cadbury acquired Nantucket Nectars, Hellendrung, 37, eventually settled on the formidable task of reviving the Narragansett brand — the annual sales of which hover at around $200,000 (the beer is currently sold only in Rhode Island and parts of Massachusetts). Perhaps because of such relatively modest sales, Pabst Brewing readily agreed to sell the rights to Narragansett to the would-be beer baron and an unidentified group of investors.

If Hellendrung holds the business details close to the vest, he wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to Narragansett, describing the departure of local brewing as something approaching sacrilege, and he likens Narragansett’s rightful place in Rhode Island to how locals give directions by using bygone landmarks. "It’s New England’s beer, it’s Rhode Island’s beer," the Middletown resident says. "Not to get corny, but that’s part of what really attracted me to Narragansett — it’s something I believe in."

Competing against the handful of beer behemoths that dominate the national landscape, Hellendrung is counting on latent local affection for Narragansett to spark renewed popularity. Not surprisingly, the incipient promotional campaign relies on a sense of mild indignation about Narragansett’s fade ("Let’s take back our beer," proclaims a coaster at www.narragansettbeer.net). Another significant stride comes this month with the moving of brewing operations from Fort Wayne, Indiana, to High Falls, New York, and the debut of a newly designed look, along with the additional availability of Narragansett in kegs and longneck bottles, as well as the familiar 16-ounce "pounder," slated for October 1. Hellendrung also vows to initiate a brewing operation in southern New England this fall, adding, "Over time, I want to brew as much Narragansett Beer as is feasible here in Rhode Island."

The reemergence of Narragansett represents part of a broader local brewing movement in Rhode Island, one that will put it on a stronger footing when compared with other New England states. Since being launched by four college pals in 1998, Middletown’s Coastal Extreme Brewing, the maker of the Newport Storm line of beers, has enjoyed steady growth. Also, fans of Providence’s Trinity Brewhouse can now enjoy its India Pale Ale in 12-ounce bottles, and Trinity chieftain Josh Miller is exploring the possibility of establishing a brewery in the capital city, in concert with other small brewers.

Hellendrung’s pledge to brew some Narragansett in Rhode Island is a crucial part of reestablishing the brand’s local credentials, although it remains to be seen if the beer can find an audience with the bulk of young drinkers pouring back Budweiser, Coors, Miller, and assorted light beers. Still, even though giants like Anheuser-Bush and its counterparts account for about 96 percent of American beer sales, the emergence of craft brewers in the 1980s and ’90s revealed a thirst for more distinctive tastes. The place in all this of Narragansett — a storied local name whose lager is poised to compete with the likes of Bud and Rolling Rock — remains to be seen.

BREWERS’ PERIL AND PROMISE

Following on the success of Boston-based Sam Adams, which had been established in 1984, the Hope Brewing Corporation hoped to put Rhode Island brewing back on the map in 1988. "It wasn’t that long ago when seven of every 10 beers consumed in Rhode Island, and nearly half of all the beer consumed in New England, were Narragansetts brewed in Cranston," Richard Fensterer 3d, the company’s CEO, said while introducing Hope Lager during a Providence news conference. (Covering the event as a young reporter for The Associated Press, I welcomed the chance to quaff some samples after closing off a 4 am-noon shift.)

Hope Brewing’s founders pledged to bring a brewing operation to their warehouse on Elmwood Avenue, and the enthusiasm for the beer, initially contract brewed in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, seemed auspicious. "When we brought the product to market, we couldn’t keep it on store shelves," recalls Fensterer. Yet despite the early success, including an apex in annual sales of 7000 31-gallon barrels, the company’s credibility suffered when it didn’t fulfill the pledge to brew locally. By the early ’90s, Hope Brewing, like some of the other hopefuls around the nation who joined the industry, was out of business.

By contrast, the four friends from Colby College who established Coastal Extreme Brewing Company in Middletown have brewed locally since shortly after starting their business. Targeting Rhode Island because of the absence of a microbrewery, the quartet from disparate New England states tapped cofounder Derek Luke’s home brewing experience to provide a post-collegiate business plan. Starting with less than $300,000, Coastal Extreme set up shop in a Middletown industrial park, with equipment bought from a defunct brewpub.

Although the company’s initial five-year sales goals had to be revised sharply downward — as annual growth in the craft beer market fell to three percent, from earlier double-digit highs — Coastal Extreme sells about 5000 barrels a year, and the amount has consecutively grown in recent years. "At this point, I think we’re happy with our growth, and that it’s consistent," says company president Brent Ryan. "It makes it a little easier for us to manage it."

The company sells its varieties — including Hurricane Amber Ale, Maelstrom I.P.A., Alyssa Extreme Brown Ale, and Brent Extreme Bock — in bottles, cans, and kegs in Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and the area around Newport News, Virginia (because of the shared nautical tradition and the partial overlap with the Newport Storm name).

Working from simple 3500-square-foot headquarters, Ryan is well aware of the challenges facing small brewers. There’s the overwhelming preference among consumers for Budweiser, Miller, and Coors, fostered by the huge amount spent by the Big Three on advertising, marketing, and promotion. This spending, in turn, makes it an uphill battle for a small local brewer trying to get shelf space or a tap at bars and restaurants. "That’s the most difficult part — explaining to retailers the value in carrying these products," Ryan says. Even the craft beer drinker, more willing to try new things but generally less loyal to a single brew, can be a double-edged sword.

Ryan, who is heartened by the growth of Rhode Island’s beer culture, says increasing the local availability of Coastal Extreme in local package stores, bars, and restaurants, remains the company’s focus.

Josh Miller, who launched the Trinity Brewhouse, his downtown Providence brewpub, in 1994, also has a strong local orientation. Putting Trinity’s India Pale Ale into bottles, a process done at the Cottrell Brewing, a small regional brewer in Pawcatuck, Connecticut, is, he says, "a natural evolution." (The beer is being produced in Connecticut, Miller says, since doing so is more efficient.)

Miller hopes annual sales of the IPA reach 50,000 cases — an amount that could justify establishing a brewery in Providence, in conjunction with several other small brewers. "I would love to build it in Providence," he says. "It’s a great water source. It’s a great community that wants it to happen. And it’s got a great history."