Heath Hoadley is in the barn again mixing up the medicine. The sun’s steadily setting. He’s got the Bunsens burning.

He adjusts the levels and releases a steady stream of wort.

In the backyard of a home just east of downtown Lawrence, something is brewing—beer.

Barnyard Brewing, operated by co-owner Mike Hummell and co-owner and brewmaster Hoadley, started late July 2008 as a homebrewing project in the hopes of becoming a full-blown microbrewery. Hoadley, an experienced brewmaster, brews 47-gallon batches of beer in a red barn in the backyard of Hummell’s home, converting wort, unfermented beer into beer.

What they’re entering into is the craft-beer industry, which means they’re making beers that have a more complex flavor than a standard American pilsner such as Budweiser or Coors. Think New Belgium beers, or better yet, a few local-craft brews such as 23rd Street, Free State or even Boulevard in Kansas City, Missouri. The craft-beer industry has grown 12 percent in the first half of 2008 and grew the same percentage from 2006 to 2007, according to the Brewers Association.

The increase from 2006 to 2007 was just short of 1 million barrels of beer—from about 7 million barrels to a little more than 8 million.

What is a craft brewer?

Standing tiptoed over a barrel in a pair of gray galoshes, Hoadley stares in with a flashlight to check the grain. The barn doesn’t emit an enjoyable smell. There are three huge, gleaming stainless steel barrels, giant Bunson burners and a walk-in freezer crammed into it. Country music blares from a radio in the corner.

Hoadley studied to become a brewmaster at several schools, including the Sieble Institute of Technology in Chicago and Doemens Academy in Munich, Germany. The first job in the brewing industry he had was in Eugene, Oregon, where he was a dishwasher at a brewery. The assistant brewer fell asleep on the toilet at the job. He was fired, and Hoadley had just turned 21 and was offered the job.

He looks up from a barrel and waves me over to smell it. I assumed it was going to smell unpleasant, like wet decomposing grain, but upon sticking my nose over the rim, I was surprised—it smelled like sweet, warm oatmeal, not emulating the often-ripe smell emitting from the barn.

Barnyard Brewing can’t legally sell the beer it produces because it is considered a homebrewery. In Kansas, you’re either a microbrewer or a homebrewer. A homebrewer produces small batches of beer for noncommercial consumption. To legally sell the beer in Kansas, Barnyard Brewing has to produce its beers in a commercial or industrial space with a license.

“There are laws regarding self-distribution and for a microbrewery, distribution is key,” says Paul Gatza, Brewers Association director. “You can make the best beer in the world but if you can’t get it onto the shelves and into restaurants, you won’t make it.”

To be deemed a microbrewery requires fitting a guideline; a microbrewery must make fewer than 15,000 barrels of beer per year.

Also, being called a craft brewer requires a few things. The Brewers Association lists three rules to earning the title.

A craft brewer has to be small, independent and traditional, meaning it has to have an annual production of fewer than 2 million barrels of beer (allowing for breweries larger than microbreweries), less than 25 percent of the brewery can be owned by an alcohol industry member (who’s not a craft brewer), and at least 50 percent of its production must be malt beers.

To become a microbrewer, Hummell and Hoadley are looking to move into a new space to produce their beers soon and are working on licensing. They have five beers lined up for production: a golden ale, an Irish red, a porter, a dunklewiezen and a double-fermented golden ale flavored with peach wine.

During the interview, Hoadley hands me an Irish red and then later a porter. The porter, called Bonfire Porter, is one of the best porters I’ve ever had. It reminds me of a light, chocolaty New Castle Ale. I know that’s not a porter. But the point remains—they’re not fooling around—they’re making real beer.

Worldwide growth

Craft beers have been drastically increasing in popularity in the U.S. and around the world. Since 2004, there has been an increase in dollar sales of 58 percent, according to Gatza. He chalks it up to the growing trend of buying local products and a focus toward flavorful foods and beers.

He likens it to the growth in popularity of other specialty food field, like artisanal cheeses, breads and pastries. There was a time 20 to 30 years ago, Gatza says, when one would see only white bread, wheat bread and maybe rye bread; none of the more flavorful or exotic varieties people see today. Now, there are specialty bakeries popping up and the same is happening with beer.

“Thirty years ago, there were maybe 30 brewing companies having success,” Gatza says. “Now there are over 1,400 craft breweries and they’re doing well not only because they’re cool local businesses that people support but because they’re creating outstanding products.”

And it is true; out of 1,527 breweries in the U.S., 1,483, or 97 percent, of them are small and independent.

Locally made lagers

A majority of Americans live within 10 miles of a craft brewer, says Julia Herz, craft beer program director and spokeswoman for the Brewers Association.

A beer culture is developing that is much different from 10, 15 or 20 years ago. People are excited about buying locally made products and supporting local businesses that often support the community with sponsorship for events and charities. That’s how local breweries thrive—by being involved as a staple of a community.

Barnyard Brewing has done two tastings in Lawrence, one at The Pool Room and the other at the Eagles Lodge. Both tastings featured live music and as much beer as you could drink.

Tastings give brewers the chance to see what beers go over the best with beer drinkers. They can then tailor their beers to what they find drinkers enjoy the most. Also, as brewers they get to see people enjoy their product, which is one of the aspects Hoadley enjoys most about brewing beer, other than drinking it.

“I love working with my hands, crafting something, sharing something that puts smiles on the faces of others,” Hoadley says. “There’s nothing better than handing somebody a beer and having their eyes light up a little after they’re tasting it saying, ‘Woo damn.’”

This mindset allows craft brewers to supply what their audience demands. They have more flexibility in styles, tastes and ingredients than larger breweries in America.

“Those guys are the ones that are going to be doing these really creative, not having to fit the corporate mold, experimental beers,” Herz says. “The marketplace has been rewarding beers with self, sense and soul.”

Hummell thinks live music and beer tastings go together well. People would rather hang out and have a good time than go to a restaurant, eat, drink and leave. As a plus, he says it’s a lot of fun having bands around.

Barnyard Brewing is participating in a tasting on Friday in Ottawa. It’s the Ottawa Main Street Association’s annual fundraiser at the Carnegie Community Center. It’s featuring Barnyard beer, along with wine, cheese, food and an auction.

Katy Boothe, executive director of the Ottawa Main Street Association, already has three state representatives and one state senator on the guest list; one of the leading pieces on auction is from artist Jack Sorenson, who has done work for production companies such as Warner Bros.

Tastings also give craft brewers the chance to find investors. Making beer is not cheap. Hummell says that to get a full blown microbrewery going, with a bottling operation, would require an investment of $300,000—after that he shook his head, chuckled and said that they could work with less, and they are, but that’s the ideal set up. Hummell works at the Wonder Bread factory in Lenexa and Hoadley works in the kitchen at Zig & Mac’s.

Change in taste

Brewing is an all-day process. Hoadley heads over to the barn at 7:30 in the morning to prepare for the brewing process. Some days he stays there late into the night, depending on how many batches of beer he is making, but this day he is there until early in the afternoon.

Many microbreweries are known for their often-zany beer flavors, but Barnyard doesn’t want to start out that way. Originally, he planned to make just three beers, and has now moved on to five.

“It isn’t about what we like. It’s about making sure that we have an accessible product,” Hummell says.

But it turns out the craft beers that are selling the most are Indian pale ales or the seasonal beers with intense flavors that are often made only one time, or become available once a year. There is demand from drinkers to have a special beer that they may only be able to get for a limited amount of time, Herz says. These beers often feature local ingredients and reflect the season.

“Seasonal beers are ever-changing, and there’s a halo effect from a loyal following; people are into taste, flavor and feeling of the moment of these not always available beers,” Herz says.

This gives Hoadley a chance to really play with the flavor and style of Barnyard’s beers. By manipulating the natural ingredients and using different techniques, he can effectively change the overall experience people have when drinking the beer. His techniques and style have been built over the years through trial and error and tasting a ton of beer.

“I like to work backwards,” Hoadley says. “Get the flavor in my head. This is what I want. Well, how would I get this flavor?”

People who buy craft beers are looking for brewers who focus on taste. The prices of raw material and ingredients have increased over the past year, which has placed a price increase on beer buyers. Imports have been losing sales with American beer drinkers and craft brewers have been gaining an audience. People shopping for a craft beer are looking for quality over quantity. You can’t buy 30 packs of an Indian pale ale like you can Natural Light or Miller High Life.

“In this economy, what consumers are increasing to use as a point of decision are what products have value across the spectrum. Value doesn’t mean low price. They’re getting an experience that they’re looking for,” Gatza says.

Hoadley lights up a cigarette and takes a drag and a sip of the Irish red ale. The guy likes beer. Water stands at our feet from a night of rain. Small “cornie” kegs, like the kind that Pepsi and Coke use for soda fountains, sit full or waiting to be filled with yet another batch of beer.

“Want another?” he asks.

I stop and wonder how many other times in history that exchange has occurred. “Want another beer?” It just so rarely happens that the person offering you the beer made it himself. JP