Please Don’t Wine: Beer Pairings for Thanksgiving | Departures

This article was originally published in 2014 in the departed Departures magazine.

For my food-obsessed family, Thanksgiving is the most important day of the year. 

On November’s fourth Thursday, my siblings and I flock to our ancestral home—suburban Dayton, Ohio—and perform decades-old duties. I spice stuffing and add crème fraiche to sweet-potato purée. My sister mashes potatoes while my brother trims and sautés green beans. My mom bakes pies, both pumpkin and apple, while dad handles turkey duty. They’re traditions untouched by time, save for one.

Used to be, my dad would dig into his wine collection and unearth a soft, fruity Pinot Noir, or maybe a buttery, toasty Chardonnay. Picking wine, then decanting and serving it, was essential to the day’s ritual. Though I preferred beer to wine, I didn’t even think to question his selections—especially since he’d generously pour a third glass for his 20-year-old son. (Thanks, dad!)

But as the years stacked like firewood, my casual interest in beer blossomed into an all-consuming obsession. The more I imbibed, the more I discovered that beer is not a lowbrow, low-flavor thirst-quencher, best sipped at a football stadium. Beer encompasses a constellation of flavors; bitter, sweet, chocolaty, sour, nutty, malty—name a taste, and brewers can replicate it in liquid form. I also found that these familiar flavors, combined with palate-cleansing carbonation, make beer a friendly, forgiving companion to all sorts of foods, ranging from mignonette-topped oysters to Thai curries. While perfect wine pairings require you to hit a bull’s-eye, winning beer combinations mean you merely have to hit the dartboard.

That’s especially the case with Thanksgiving. “The diverse flavors found in beer can often mimic and complement the tastes found in Thanksgiving favorites,” says John Holl, editor of All About Beer magazine and author of The American Craft Beer Cookbook. “This could mean a brown ale with roast turkey, a hearty wheat for the vegetables, and a coffee stout to complement the pies at dessert.” 

Count me a convert. From cloudy, fragrant witbiers to whet palates to dry, spicy Belgian saisons that slash right through rich gravy, I’ve slowly made a place for beer at my family’s Thanksgiving celebration. In our new tradition, my dad still selects the wine. But I’m in charge of beer. And while I relish pairing a different brew with each course, I may still go for a taste of Dad’s selection. For us, it’s all about options, not either/or.  

“Wine will always have its place at the table,” says chef Adam Dulye, co-owner of San Francisco’s Monk’s Kettle and Abbot’s Cellar and culinary consultant for the Brewers Association. However, he says, craft beers can offer deeper pairing notes, palate-cleansing potential, and endless variety. “There are so many versatile craft beers out there right now, and many are a natural pair to the traditional recipes of Thanksgiving,” he says.

If you want to start new holiday traditions of your own, here’s how to stock your Thanksgiving beer cooler in style.

Brouwerij Bosteels DeuS Brut des Flandres, 11.5% ABV
One of the more thrilling beer styles bubbling up bière brut. As in Champagne, the process incorporates lengthy multiple fermentations, as well as disgorging yeast from a bottle’s neck. Though you can find versions produced domestically, the best is DeuS (DAY-ews), which is fermented in Belgium and finished in France’s Champagne region. Dry as a wishbone and packing pinprick effervescence, the lightly citrusy aperitif is best served in a flute to welcome guests upon arrival.  

Kiuchi Hitachino Nest White Ale, 5.5% ABV
Since the Thanksgiving meal is a turkey trot, not a sprint, pacing alcohol intake is crucial. For a lower-alcohol, fully flavored beer that can glide from crudités to the salad course, seek a witbier. Birthed in Belgium, the smooth and invigorating wheat beer is classically spiced with coriander and orange peel, lending the unfiltered ale citrusy nuance. We like Japan’s Kiuchi, which incorporates coriander, orange peel, a dash of nutmeg, and a splash of orange juice to creating a fragrant, multifaceted refresher. 

Allagash Dubbel, 7% ABV
With candied yams, stuffing, and crackling turkey on the table, you can take several different pairing paths. For harmony, look toward a Belgian dubbel. Its lavish flavors of dark fruit and sweet malt jive with roasted fowl and cranberry relish, while the vigorous carbonation and higher alcohol content hacksaw through rich side dishes and velvety gravy. Among the finest examples of the style is the malty, lightly nutty Dubbel from Portland, Maine’s Allagash, a Belgian-beer specialist since 1995. This brew has a “great hint of spice and roast that warms right up to the bird,” say chef Adam Dulye, co-owner of San Francisco’s Monk’s Kettle and Abbot’s Cellar and culinary consultant for the Brewers Association.

Saison Dupont Vieille Provision, 6.5% ABV
To take a different main-course direction, consider Belgian saisons. Originally created to quench toiling farmhands’ thirst, these rustic farmhouse ales are typically dry and spicy, with hints of pepper and citrus. Versatile saisons slay gravy richness, yet remain graceful complements to vegetables and salads. The archetypal example is Belgium’s snappy Saison Dupont. It utilizes proprietary yeast strains and spring water drawn from the family farm that, since 1844, has been the brewery’s home. Dubbel? Saison? Our advice: Set both on the dinner table.

Deschutes The Abyss, 11% ABV
Before the pies roll out, remove several bottles of Oregon-based Deschutes’ annual fall release from the fridge. This heavyweight imperial stout, which is made with licorice and cherry bark and partly aged in bourbon, oak, and pinot noir barrels, is best savored warmerslightly warmer than you’d typically serve beer, around 55 degrees. This lets the luscious flavors of coffee, chocolate, and vanilla unfold. Abyss is ideal asidealongside any chocolaty indulgence, as well as pumpkin or sweet potato pies. (With apple pie, opt for a malty, caramel-licked doppelbock, such as Ayinger Celebrator.) Too full for another bite? Abyss doubles as drinkable dessert.