BEER BIZ
Bill Lawrence of GABS contributed an Internet article reporting that Anheuser Busch will
increase its ownership in Mexico's Grupo Modelo, makers of Corona and Negro Modelo, to
37 percent at the cost of $550 million (not clear whether dollars or pesos, $ can refer to either).
As a consequence, A-B representation on the Modelo board will increase from 3 to 10. [Lousy
American BeerMakers Rule 26 - If you can't beat 'em, buy 'em.]
The November 26 Wall Street Urinal included a piece by Martin duBois (contributed by Betsy Perse
of First State) on Belgium's Interbrew, now the world's sixth largest brewer after the surprise
acquisition of Labatt. Unlike most Lousy American BeerMakers excepting Heileman's, they
concentrate on local brands in local markets. Unlike Heileman's, the whole world is their oyster;
they own brewers from Mexico (brands include Dos Equis & Tecate) to China (Blue Sword) to
Ukraine (Borsodi) to the U. S. of A. (Rolling Rock). The "crown jewel" in its portfolio remains
its 49 "richly flavored Belgian brews," featuring Stella. The sum total - $112 million in profits
in the 15 months ending December 1995 (and that's U.S. dollars we're talkin' 'bout).
NEW TECHNOLOGY
(In full from the January Scientific American) To curb the effects of carbonyls - chemicals that
curdle beer's taste -brewers have in the past added sulfites. Yeast produces these
natural preservatives during fermentation, but another compound, S-adenosyl methionine,
quickly breaks them down. Now genetic engineers at Carlsberg in Denmark have created strains of
yeast that lack the genes encoding S-adenosyl methionine. Compared with wild strains, these
organisms yield 10 times more sulfite and so potentially a fresher brew as well.
I finish this month with a poem contributed by GABS member Elaine Gilby, off Internet:
Righteous Anger (James Stephens)
The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there
Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer:
May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair
And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year.
That parboiled imp, with the hardest jaw you will ever see
On virtue's path, and a voice that would rasp the dead,
Came roaring and raging the minute she looked at me,
And threw me out of the house on the back of my head.
If I asked her master he'd give me a cask a day;
But she with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange!
May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten and may
The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.
