As a vacation spot, the northwestern region of Italy is an easy sell. Even its name, Piedmont—which means “foothill” in Italian—suggests its natural grandeur.
Nestled between France and Switzerland, Piedmont is surrounded by the Alps, with the river Po winding through it; rolling hills, quiet countryside villages, and Roman ruins only add to the picturesque nature of the landscape. While Turin, the capital, is famous for its Fiat factory and elegant architecture, in recent years it has also transformed into a centerpiece of the Slow Food Movement. As such, the city hosts international food fairs that promote flavorful, high quality food, sustainable production methods, and fair conditions and compensation for workers.
It’s no surprise, then, that gastronomic pleasures draw foodies to the region year-round. The Barolo area produces some of the country’s most famous wine, while the nearby city of Alba is notable for its white truffles, dark chocolate, and hazelnut groves. The factory for the iconic Nutella and praline brand Ferrero is also situated here. Piedmont is a prime agricultural area, manufacturing some of the country’s best fruit and cheese. In sum: there wasn’t much not to like here two decades ago. Unless you wanted some interesting beer.
In the ‘90s, however, entrepreneurial local beer lovers began taking advantage of the region’s ample harvests, fertile farmlands, and appreciation for food and beverage. A new group of brewers are now creating some of the Italy’s most inventive concoctions, garnering acclaim far beyond the country’s borders.
Birrificio Montegioco, which opened in 2006, incorporates local fruits into its beers. Situated about an hour’s drive north of Genoa, the brewery produces one of its best known bottles, Quarta Runa, with fermented Volpedo peaches grown by founder Riccardo Franzosi’s friends. “When you make good beer, you have a lot of friends,” Franzosi says. Indeed, he also sources cherries and grapes from his amici. The brewery itself borders a vineyard, and coriander grown just a few hundred meters away adds spice to some special brews.
Before he founded Birrificio Montegioco, Franzosi worked in his family business, fabricating building materials. A former student of agriculture, he began to make beer for himself and his family about 15 years ago. Eventually, he turned to the work full-time. “I take beer like an excuse to live like I love,” he says, describing a pleasantly uncomplicated lifestyle. Asked about the origin of his unique package design—each bottle is individually wrapped in paper twisted at the top, featuring unusual images of miscellany ranging from mummies to marching peaches—he mentions how drinking sessions aid in his creative process.
Valter Loverier, the founder of LoverBeer, describes his brewery’s origin story with more ambition. He articulates his philosophy as a “challenge to create a new product with the old tradition.” Loverier considers his BeerBera beer his most original recipe. Starting with yeast on the skin of Barbera grapes, he relies on “spontaneous fermentation” to develop the taste. Commercial beer often utilizes one of two predictable yeast strains; his alternate approach results in a funkier taste.
Loverier considers himself part of a second generation of Italian craft brewers. Teo Musso, who launched Baladin Brewery in 1996, is Piedmont’s most notable figure of the first generation. The brand has thrived and evolved—Musso has opened bars in Milan, Bologna, and a handful of other Italian locales. Right now, a Baladin bottle—the English Barleywine-style Xyauyù Barrel—ranks No. 1 on Beer Advocate’s list of Italian beers. The company just opened a 786,000-square-foot beer park that includes a pub, aging cellars, hop and barley fields, a chocolate workshop, and more. New York’s Italian food mecca, Eataly, carries a few of his bottles as well. One of the keys to Musso’s success in Italy, Loverier believes, is that the brewer first introduced a craft beer that was uncomplicated and accessible for drinkers of more commercial national brands, such as Peroni and Moretti. In contrast, Loverier says, “I am a son of this new philosophy and we want to have a special beer, not an easy beer.”
Surprisingly, Loverier has enjoyed more interest in his beers abroad than in his own country. Italians, he believes, “think in terms of wine or industrial beer.” The United States, Japan, and Australia have been particularly receptive. Loverier is especially proud that he sells to Belgium, long renowned for its own beer culture. “Like selling wine to French people,” he says. “Like selling ice to an eskimo.” If Italy is reluctant to embrace Piedmont’s developing craft beer scene, at least the rest of the world is happy to enjoy a beverage that incorporates the best of what the region has to offer in the meantime.
