Ask for the Sammy Davis, Jr.
by Ori Nir
The Jerusalem Report
August 17th, 1998
What do you get when you ask a bartender for a Sammy Davis, Jr.? At the Crow Bar, one of San Francisco's hippest night spots, you get the house version of black-and-tan: Guinness floating atop honey-colored He'brew Genesis Ale, America's first Jewish beer.
As he watches the bartender pull the tap handle which carries He'brew's label ("the Chosen Beer"), Jeremy Cowan smiles. "It always kills me," says He'brew's inventor and owner, a 29-year-old Stanford graduate. "My beer is actually out there, not in the basement of some friend's house," but on the tap row with labels like Newcastle, Guinness, Red Hook and Pale-Ale.
Cowan's creation is gradually turning from a whim into a recognized product, with 4,000 12-bottle crates sold.
He'brew is now poured in bars throughout the San Francisco Bay area, and sold in supermarkets (including major chains like Safeway) and reputable liquor stores.
After two years on the market, it has yet to make a profit, but in the highly competitive micro-brew beer market, breaking even after two years is considered a remarkable achievement.
In the beginning there was a joke. "Back in high school, I was playing volleyball with some friends," recalls Cowan, who grew up near Palo Alto, south of San Francisco, "and we were kidding around, saying that Jews need a beer of their own, and someone said: 'It should be called He'brew.'" More than 10 years later, after college, a short stint in a New Orleans pub, an attempt to start a literary magazine and a year of marketing in a high-tech start-up, Cowan decided to start taking the joke more seriously.
The idea brewed in Cowan's mind as his Jewish identity began to ferment, following a five-month Jewish Agency-UJA study program in Israel, in 1994. The tall, soft-spoken Cowan came back with a stronger sense of Jewish identity and commitment to the community: "I would never have dared going with this idea, had it not been for the experience in Israel, which broadened my knowledge, gave me a context and a personal passion for Jewish culture."
Making beer may seem an odd expression of one's Jewish identity. Recreational alcohol consumption is almost as foreign to Jewish tradition as gefilte fish is to Buddhists. But not to Cowan. Jewish beer may be a good marketing gimmick, but Cowan truly views it as a "social product," a statement. His message-in-a-bottle, simply put, is that "it's a great time for Jewish culture in America," a time that allows Jews (and non-Jews) to have fun with Jewish pop folkways.
Sure, there is the shtick. Cowan calls his business "the Shmaltz Brewing Company." He uses marketing phrases such as "Don't pass out, pass over," or "Exile never tasted so good." His bottle's label (hand-drawn by his artist girlfriend Tracy Ginsberg) catches the eye with a Chagall-like design, showing a smiling hasid celebrating with two beer bottles over the Golden Gate Bridge and the arched rooftops of Jerusalem.
He'brew, says Cowan, "is a celebration of the culture of shtick," of the mainstreaming of Jewish-pop life styles in America and of the fermentation of hip, sometimes radical, nontraditional expressions of Jewish tradition, particularly in the San Francisco area. He likes to think that he is taking part in the "regeneration of Jewish life in America." Pledging (on the bottle's label) to give 10 percent of his profits to tzedakah, Cowan donates beer to dozens of Jewish events, and is co-sponsoring a Jewish-gay comedy night in San Francisco later this month.
But He'brew is more than a gimmicky business venture. Cowan and his brewer have also managed to concoct a genuinely delicious brew.
The process was hilarious, he says. In a very literary fashion, he described to an experienced brewer precisely what he wanted the beer to taste like, and saw his words turn into proportions of malt and hops. The brewer would add a little of this or that, pour a sample, and then fine-tune the concoction, until he saw that it was good.
He'brew Genesis Ale, which is certified kosher by the Orthodox Union (most brewers don't bother with kashrut supervision), is light and somewhat sweet. Like most micro-brews, it is very flavorful yet leaves virtually no aftertaste. When he envisioned its taste and texture, says Cowan, he recalled something that comedian Jackie Mason says: "Gentiles drink. Jews eat." He wanted something that would go well with food.
His beer is brewed in one of America's most esteemed micro-breweries - Anderson Valley Brewing Company, north of San Francisco. Like most micro-breweries, Anderson Valley uses better malts and much more hops than go into mass-produced beers. "It is like the difference between mass-produced bread and an excellent, hand-crafted loaf from a small bakery," explain's Loren Allen, Anderson Valley's director. "They have the money for mass-marketing, so they can compromise on quality. We have to focus on our qualitative advantage, even if it costs more. He'brew costs more than mass-produced beer, but is better and more sophisticated in flavor."
"I wanted to make a beer that is very approachable yet high quality," says Cowan. "Something that is not too anything. Something that will fill your mouth with a delicious flavor, like a great deli-sandwich."
"It is an interesting beer with a great, great packaging," says Brian Rosen of Chicago's Sam's Wine and Spirits, the largest retailer of alcohol products in the world - with 33,000 sq. ft., $50 million a year in sales and 10,000 brands of liquor. "A very good micro-brew. The packaging is very catchy and creative, and the beer itself is a sweet, good-tasting beer."
Rosen, who sells He'brew off the shelf and through mail-orders, predicts a surge in sales before Rosh Hashanah. This year, He'brew may give a whole new meaning to the High Holy Days.
After extending his marketing operation to Los Angeles and Chicago, Cowan is now preparing to conquer the promised land for any Jewish product: New York. And soon, he promises, he'll be expanding his range. In the pipeline are Jewish root beer, and "Messiah Stout" - promoted, inevitably, with the motto, "The beer you've been waiting for."