How to Build a Brewery with Jeremy Cowan of Shmaltz Brewing Co.

In hindsight, Cowan says that he had really started a sales and marketing company more than a beer company. For the first seventeen years of its existence, Shmaltz didn’t even have a brewery. Cowan followed the example of craft beer pioneers Pete Slosberg and Jim Koch by having his beer contract brewed. This allowed him an affordable entry. The first batch of Genesis Ale cost just $2,000. But it also allowed Cowan, a one-man show for most of those years, to focus on what he does best: generate shtick and put it into the world. 

It is only recently that Cowan has crossed over and built his own brewery in Clifton Park, New York – a radical change and a steep learning curve. “I never thought we’d have a brewery,” he said. “I didn’t think we’d have 30 people. I thought we’d have four or five people. Even going from two or three to four or five or six was a big jump. I’m still learning while doing, which is very tiring.” 

Right: One of Cowan's many methods of getting the attention of craft beer enthusiasts.

Despite the bricks and mortar, kettles and fermenters, Cowan will continue to draw heavily on the rich tradition of Jewish comedy to help spread the word about his beer. Provocative and playful, Jewish shtick is a large piece of the He’brew identity. It’s one of the “three pillars” on which Cowan built his brand – quality, community and shtick. The use of the pillars metaphor is itself a play on the foundational pillars of Judaism; Torah, worship and acts of loving-kindness. 

Jewish humor pervades the marketing. He’brew is “The chosen beer.” The flagship Messiah Nut Brown is “The beer you’ve been waiting for.” Signage made to look like an ancient tapestry quotes God proclaiming, “Christ, that’s good beer.” A video clip shows two Hasidic rabbis entering a saloon, a turn on the classic “two Jews walk into a bar” theme. Beer names reference Old Testament figures. Slingshot American Craft Lager, for instance, invokes the underdog David taking on the Goliath of big beer. Irreverent events like the annual Hanukkah vs. Christmas Holiday Beer Throwdowns are staged across the country.

Cowan himself develops much of the shtick. The riffs on the Jewish refrain certainly have helped him sell what is arguably one of the world’s most niche brands. But for Cowan it’s more than just a gimmick. Though playful, he takes the link to his Jewish culture seriously. In his autobiography Craft Beer Bar Mitzvah he writes, “I’m trying to be provocative, outrageous, and colorful, but also sincere and thoughtful, precise and composed.” A glimpse below the surface reveals how everything from the label on the bottle down to the ingredients and flavors works together to form a holistic package with multiple layers of interpretation and understanding. 

All He’brew beers are certified kosher. Many have complex connections to Judaic traditions. Take the fall seasonal Rejewvenator, a fruit-infused mashup of a doppelbock and a Belgian dubbel. It is brewed to commemorate Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Rosh Hashanah is a holiday about introspection and rejuvenation, a reflection on the mistakes of the past and changes to be made in the coming year. The surface-level shtick is obvious. By naming it Rejewvenator, Cowan could use "Jew" in the name, play on the traditional "tor" ending of doppelbock names, and convey the spirit of the holiday. But there are deeper parallels. Bock is a beer traditionally associated with Lent, together with Easter another holiday associated with renewal and rejuvenation. The traditional symbol of bock is the ram. An important part of the Rosh Hashanah holiday is the blowing of the shofar, a ram's horn. The first version of Rejewvenator contained fig juice. Figs are one of the sacred fruits mentioned in the Torah. Subsequent releases used others, such as dates and grapes.