Goose Island is a key name in the history of the American craft beer movement, and in its heyday, was a veritable cultural touchstone of Chicago as much as deep-dish pizza and blues music are part of the Chicago vibe. After their acquisition by AB InBev, they became one of the biggest craft beer brands around the world. You can find their brews almost anywhere, and they're often considered the default “craft” beer in bars around the world – even if some beer snobs might raise an eyebrow at the "craft" label these days.

It all started with a man named John Hall. John’s background might remind you of the fictitious Dunder Mifflin Paper Company in hit sitcom The Office.

John had previously spent a good 20 years as a vice president at paper manufacturer Container Corporation of America before the brewing bug bit him. The seed was truly sown during his holidays in the UK and Europe, when he became enamoured by the sheer diversity of beers on offer and the vibrant pub culture of England. He noticed how British pubs with their warm atmosphere and focus on high quality traditional brews brought people together in a way that US bars, often dominated by sports fans and loud music, didn't quite manage.

After falling in love with Fuller's classic London Pride cask-conditioned ale, John began to wonder: why couldn’t Americans have the same variety of beers available in Europe? Why couldn't his hometown of Chicago be like London and have its own beloved craft ale? This was the late 1980s, mind you, a time when American beer was largely dominated by mass-produced lagers. Think Budweiser, Miller, Coors - all perfectly fine beers, but lacking the richness and nuance that John had experienced in Europe.

After spending decades in corporate America, John felt optimistic about the business opportunity for craft beers in the United States. The 1980s saw a shift in American consumer preferences towards gourmet and artisanal products. Starbucks was on the rise, offering a more sophisticated coffee experience than instant coffee. The Judgement of Paris wine tasting of 1976 helped propel Californian wines to stardom, challenging the notion that only European wines could be truly great. Ethnic cuisines such as Italian, Mexican and Chinese food were becoming more mainstream as international influences were starting to elevate the American dining experience. All of this pointed towards a growing appetite for quality and flavour, and John believed craft beer could tap into that.

But what really solidified his conviction was a fateful flight on Delta Airlines when John picked up an inflight magazine and flipped through it in boredom. John chanced upon an article about tiny West Coast breweries that were starting to make waves. And that was the only sign that John needed. He became ready to take the plunge himself.

When John opened the doors of his humble Clybourn Brewpub in 1988, he was one of very few brewers in the region, let alone Chicago. The craft beer scene in the Midwest was practically barren. Forget your hazy IPAs or pastry stouts – this was a time when even a pale ale was considered exotic. The US craft beer movement was still in its nascency; although there was Sierra Nevada showering Californian taste buds with hops, but that was all the way on the West Coast.

John's goal wasn’t world domination: the down-to-earth man just wanted to make Chicago's favourite beer. He planned to keep things local, believing there was room for a small brewery to carve out a decent market share in the Windy City. Chicago's a big city, and if he could capture just 2% to 5% of the market he’d be satisfied. Considering Chicago's location, nestled between Milwaukee (the birthplace of Miller) and Budweiser's hometown of St. Louis, it was high time Chicagoans had a local brewery to call their own.

John's son and brewmaster of Goose Island Brewery, Greg Hall.

To get the ball rolling, John recruited his son, Greg Hall, as the brewmaster. Greg, a recent college graduate, diligently attended the Siebel Institute of Technology which has a renowned brewing schoolto learn the trade. No YouTube tutorials or online courses back then, just good old-fashioned hands-on experience!

Together, John and Greg set out to bring complex and sophisticated European beer styles to Chicago.They wanted to introduce Chicagoans to the delights of English bitters, Belgian dubbels, and German pilsners. They even chose a humble location to do it: near the Cabrini-Green public housing project, one of Chicago's cheapest and, at the time, often shunned neighbourhood where the preppy upper-middle class would hesitate to visit for fear of being mugged. They were all about genuine community engagement and bringing good beer to the people.

Despite their inexperience in brewing these styles, the challenges of their location, and a city market unfamiliar with high-end European-style beers, Goose Island made it big.

Goose Island owes much of its success to the team’s innovative spirit and John’s open-mindedness. And at the heart of this was Greg, the brewing mastermind. He wasn't content with just replicating traditional styles; he wanted to push boundaries and experiment.

One fateful evening in 1992, Greg found himself seated next to Jim Beam's master distiller at a dinner. That fateful conversation was the genesis of the idea for aging beer in bourbon barrels, leading to the creation of the cult favourite Goose Island Bourbon County Stout. Greg realised that before the widespread use of stainless steel and plastic in brewing, beer was often fermented and aged in wooden barrels, which imparted unique complexities due to the wild yeasts present in the wood. He also happily found out that the extreme temperature swings in Chicago during fermentation could further contribute to richer flavours.

Goose Island’s Bourbon County Stout was a game-changer that created an early fanbase of American craft beer lovers. It was the pioneering bourbon-barrel-aged beer in the US at a time when the craft beer movement was still finding its feet. This beer pushed boundaries and introduced barrel-aging to the mainstream. You can still buy Goose Island's Bourbon County Stout today, but only a limited batch is released every year, and due to its popularity and limited availability, it often sells out quickly

Greg didn't stop there. He also delved into the world of wine-barrel-aged beers, creating masterpieces like Madame Rose, a Belgian-style brown ale aged in wine barrels with sour cherries. Their other iconic brews include Matilda, a Belgian pale ale fermented with Brettanomyces yeast, giving it those characteristic barnyard and funky flavours that beer geeks today go wild for. There’s also the now ubiquitous Goose Island IPA, a classic American IPA that scooped up numerous awards through the 2000s. This was a time when IPAs were just starting to gain traction in the US, and Goose Island pioneering work helped make the IPA a staple style.

Then came 312 Urban Wheat Ale in 2005, a refreshing and approachable wheat beer named after Chicago's area code. 312 became a runaway commercial success, helping Goose Island expand into more states across the continental US.

Paradoxically, this commercial success came with a toll. The small craft brewery struggled to keep up with its outsized popularity. Demand for 312 Urban Wheat Ale was so high that production of Bourbon County Stout had to sometimes be put on hold! By then, John had more than achieved his dream of making Chicago's favourite beer; his brews were now enjoyed across many parts of the US. It was becoming clear that the brewery was maxed out in terms of production and manpower.

So, there was John, having achieved his dream of brewing Chicago's favourite beer, but with a demand for his beer that is bursting at the seams. He was in his seventies by this point, and the thought of expanding further, with all the financial and logistical headaches that entailed, probably made him want to reach for a stiffer drink. John eventually realised that to keep the goose flying, he needed a hefty injection of capital. And that, dear reader, is where AB InBev entered the picture.

John’s sale of Goose Island to the brewing behemoth in 2011 remains a little bit controversial today. Goose Island beers became more widely available, sure, but for some, the quality became somewhat patchy.

While Chicago remains a key part of Goose Island's brand identity, the production of their iconic beers is now outsourced and made at AB InBev's breweries in various states. And outside the US? A bottle of Goose Island IPA you pick up in Shanghai was most definitely brewed by Budweiser Wuhan Brewing Co. Fancy a can of 312 Wheat Ale in Seoul? That'll be courtesy of South Korea’s OB Brewing Co.

It wasn’t difficult to impress a non-Chicagoan who hasn’t tasted Goose Island’s beers for the first time. However, the sheer quality of the original brewery’s set a high bar for those already in the know. Critics, especially those in Chicago, argue that these AB InBev-produced beers are of middling quality. Better than your average mass-produced lager, perhaps, but the magic touch, that attention to detail that had defined their early years, seemed to fade for some of their beers. This has led to a real dilemma for many Chicago bar and beer shop owners. Some have taken the hardline, dropping the brand altogether. Others only sell local Chicago-made Goose Island beers but not those brewed by Anheuser-Busch in outside breweries - unwilling to disappoint their loyal customers.

Thankfully, in Chicago at least, the original Goose Island team and brewery continues to produce high-quality and complex beers like Matilda and their range of wild and sour ales. They remain something of a haven for beer enthusiasts, a reminder of what Goose Island once was and still can be.

Goose Island's new Chicago premises lies in the Salt Shed entertainment district along the Chicago River, just feet away from its namesake island.

And let's give credit where credit is due: AB InBev has ultimately helped achieve John Hall's dream, albeit in a way he probably never envisioned. They've helped Goose Island achieve significant growth and global reach while maintaining its Chicago roots. The brewing giant also gained a credible craft beer brand to add to its vast portfolio. It was a win-win situation, and it’s quite reasonable that the 70-year-old John was looking to hang up the apron.

The Goose Island Brewhouse in Shanghai.

As beer enthusiasts, we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. A Goose Island IPA you buy in Shanghai is probably a different drink from the Goose Island IPA you'd get at the brewpub in Chicago. It's a reminder to check the fine print when purchasing anything.

Speaking of which, we recently got our hands on three Goose Island beers: the Goose Island IPA, the Goose Island Session IPA, and the Goose Island 312 Urban Wheat Ale. Full disclosure: the Goose Island IPA was acquired in Shanghai while the other two are from South Korea. We’ll see how they measure up!

Goose Island IPA, 5.9% ABV – Review

Tasting Notes

Nose: Ripe fruits and rich maltiness. Opens with fresh apricots and mango mingling with the sweetness of manuka honey. Beneath the fruit, a subtle but fragrant hint of green hop bitters, like taking a stroll through a hop orchard.

Palate: Rich, mellow and full bodied. Honey and apricot notes carry through to the palate, where they're joined by a pronounced maltiness. The beer has a full body and a mellow sweetness that coats the mouth. As the sweetness subsides, there’s an emergent note of fresh cut grass, a somewhat vegetal and bitter note.

Finish: Gets slightly drier, with pleasant manuka honey sweetness, maltiness, hop bitterness and more of those fragrant hop oil aromas that verges on gasoline (though not in an unpleasant way) and liniment oil in the retro-nasal aromas.

My Thoughts

This is cohesive, rich and pretty rounded. It’s an objectively well-crafted IPA with all those classic juicy fruits, rich honey and fragrant hops greenness. The flavours are big but impressively, they do a great job balancing across 3 elements – it’s forward with the juicy fruits, backed up by the denser, sweeter honey, and then with just a side of that hoppy bitterness and vegetal quality as a nice contrast.

It's full bodied on both flavour and texture. What I particularly enjoy is that it's not overly "dank" and allows the hops to shine through as an aroma rather than a dominant bitter note on the palate.

Rating: 7/10

Goose Island Duck Duck Goose Session IPA, 4.7% ABV – Review

Tasting Notes

Nose: Rich, hoppy and pretty tropical, with aromas of sweet malt and tropical fruits mingle with a distinct citrusy character. Opens with the fragrance of roasted pineapple and rich, sweet malt taking centre stage, followed by the subtle sweetness of nectarines and fresh apricots. A dry tangerine note emerges as the sweetness subsides. Hints of wheat beer character weave through the tropical IPA profile, creating a balanced and aromatic hop bouquet that doesn’t get too overtly bitter.

Palate: Hmm interesting… it’s a rich malty character with a rather unusual chalky texture. Opens with a citrusy hop flavour with a medium body and a noticeable dryness. Contrary to what the nose seems to promise, on the palate this is much less sweet and juicy than anticipated. There’s quite a bit going on, with a moderate pithiness reminiscent of orange and lemon peels, balanced by a light bready note. This evolves into a dominant sourdough yeasty, and hoppy character, finishing with a clean minerality and a slate-like quality.

Finish: A lingering note of orange peel combines with a subtle hint of toasted barley and some sweet dates. It’s marked by a persistent yeasty breadiness and a lingering dank hop bitterness, reminiscent of light Americano coffee and grapefruit pith.

My Thoughts

This is a fairly average IPA. It’s got a rich texture and an evocative nose. While complex, however, the palate falls short in sweetness, leaning much more towards hoppiness and chalkiness, while lacking the anticipated richness and fruitiness I was expecting of it. It's noticeably less sweet than the Goose Island IPA.

This dryness might actually appeal to palates accustomed to less sweetness, particularly those in East Asia where drier beer styles are often preferred. If you’d enjoy a hoppier, less sweet brew with an interesting chalky complexity, this is worth a try.

My Rating: 5/10

Goose Island 312 Urban Wheat Ale, 4.2% ABV – Review

Tasting Notes

Nose: A musty, gristy aroma of grain dominates, bringing to mind sweetcorn and old library books (though not in an unpleasant way). A light perfumed citrusiness adds a sweetness to the aroma.

Palate: Crisp and light with a light effervescence. The beer is refreshing and incredibly easy to sip. Subtle sweetness from the malt gives way to a refreshing lemonade-like flavour. As the initial citrus fades, aromatic roasted malt emerges, reminiscent of light roasted coffee along with a hint of tangerine peels.

Finish: Short, clean, and crisp, the finish mirrors much of the palate's refreshing character. Light notes of yeast and bread linger alongside a subtle chalkiness.

My Thoughts

This is a very easy-drinking, crisp, and refreshing beer. This is a solid offering, though it wasn't quite what I expected from a wheat ale. It doesn’t have the same level of fruitiness as you’d expect of a European wheat ale, none of those prominent orange peels and spiced notes commonly found in this style.

However, it's very much like a lemon radler, an excellent thirst quencher for a warm day. I appreciate that the effervescence is restrained, and the hop presence is minimal, contributing a slight bitterness that reads more like light coffee or roasted malt.

My Rating: 6/10

Final Thoughts

Of the trio, the Goose Island IPA was undoubtedly my favourite. It delivered a classic American IPA experience with its bold hop aroma, juicy fruit notes and balanced bitterness. It’s not made by the original Goose Island brewery in Chicago, but it makes for a respectable brew indeed.

However, I must confess that the Session IPA and 312 Urban Wheat Ale I tasted (both acquired in Korea) were probably adjusted for the lighter East Asian palate, and probably do not have the same robustness and vibrancy as those directly produced by the original Chicago brewery. While perfectly enjoyable, they lacked the depth, nuance and punch that one may associate with the good old Goose Island. It’s a reminder that even subtle variations in the brewing environment may take a significant toll on flavour profiles. They’re pretty good, but not legendary enough to help us rediscover the magic that made Goose Island a craft beer legend.

If you ever find yourself with the opportunity to sample these beers from Chicago, I would highly, highly recommend doing so.

@CharsiuCharlie