Is ‘Deep Fried Beer’ Real?

As a kid, every year over Labor Day, my family would go to the Minnesota State Fair. The second largest of its kind in the country (bested only by Texas), “The Great Minnesota Get-Together,” as it’s nicknamed, included everything from a butter sculpting contest to whatever you can imagine on a stick—often fried. I still remember the year deep-fried Oreos hit the streets. The classic confection dipped in batter and plunged into oil was the ultimate guilty pleasure. If you could imagine a brewery on a stick, dunked in batter and crisped to perfection, that’s Deep Fried Beers.

“These beers are decadent; these beers are eccentric,” explains Deep Fried Beers Founder Johnny Osborne, whose interest in craft beer started while in college in Minnesota. “I think of deep-fried Oreos. … It’s so wrong, it’s right!”

Osborne has built his portfolio on beers that bend the rules. For instance, IPAs with massive dry hops (15lbs per bbl) and sours that border on insane (like three pounds per gallon of pineapple, lime, and coconut in an 8% ABV imperial smoothie sour).

Recently, Osborne landed a brick-and-mortar spot in Upstate New York, opening Deep Fried Beers / Night School, the low-key side of the brand that pumps out pilsners, pales, and West Coast IPAs.

Osborne’s antics caught the eye of our social media manager Magic Muncie who named Deep Fried Beers / Night School to our list of “The Best New Breweries of 2024.”

“Based in New York, Deep Fried Beers / Night School is making waves with some of the most hop-saturated IPAs east of the Mississippi,” wrote Muncie.

Currently ranked on Untappd as the eighth highest-rated brewery in the entire state, Deep Fried Beers has produced twenty-six beers since opening and has received 9,965 ratings, earning them an incredible 4.23 average rating on the world’s largest social networking app for beer.

So, while Osborne hasn’t actually deep fried beer yet, his big, braggadocious beers are sticking out like, well, a deep-fried Oreo on a stick.

The Soft Creamy Center of Deep Fried Beers

Photography courtesy of Deep Fried Beers / Night School

Like any viral food on a stick, Deep Fried Beers had humble beginnings.

Osborne started drinking craft beer after a roommate went across the border to bring back six packs of Spotted Cow. The New Glarus farmhouse ale is famously only distributed in Wisconsin.

“What the f**k is this?” Osborne says he asked himself. “This is really good!”

A proud member of the bench squad on his college’s intramural rugby team and C-level ultimate frisbee team, Osborne says one of the player’s dads on a rival team worked at Surly. He started showing up with beers to drink after the scrimmages.

As he got older, Osborne bought sampler packs of Sam Adams. “At that age, I was just starting to dip my toes into craft beer,” he says.

It wasn’t until after college that the economics major pursued a career in beer, landing an internship at Monday Night Brewing in Atlanta.

“I was one of the first ten people there,” says Osborne, who worked pretty much every position in operations and warehousing. After taking on a full-time gig in production, Osborne dove in fully.

He started reverse engineering how to make beer “by asking a shit ton of annoying questions,” he laughs.

When he moved to New York, Osborne worked for Union Beer Distributors for a little bit while finishing the American Brewers Guild program, eventually joining the R&D team at Sixpoint and then landing a head brewer gig at TALEA Beer Co.

Deep Fried Beer Dreams

Photography courtesy of Nathan Gebhard | Deep Fried Beers / Night School

To start, Osborne contract brewed his own beers at Alewife in Queens.

Inspired by his time at Sixpoint and TALEA, Osborne went full bore. “I was really excited to start making really high-ABV, really aggressively flavorful beers,” he shares.

Osborne wanted to push the definition of beer…and then push it a little more.

Sometimes, the beers spectacularly failed, but most of the time, the beers were spectacular.

Named after a song by the psych-pop band Gum, Glamorous Damage rode that razor-thin edge like an Olympic figure skater.

Photography courtesy of Johnny Osborne | Deep Fried Beers / Night School

Osborne, who has a habit of listening to one really short sub-two-minute song and one really long one over and over at a given time, was completely sure he’d gone too far with Glamorous Damage. “It was so psychotically overly flavorful that no one was going to be able to drink it.”

With twelve pounds per barrel of Citra and Mosaic, this imperial hazy still ranks as one of Deep Fried Beers’ highest-rated on Untappd with a 4.38 rating.

Osborne had just started brewing at a now-defunct brewery called Crossroads, which had a centrifuge.

“The beer was undrinkably intense,” says Osborne. “I couldn’t expect someone to put that in their body and pretend it was good.”

But after a trip through the centrifuge, which pulls out yeast, hops, proteins, and other materials to clear the beer, the beer became drinkable. “Still arguably one of the most intense things I’ve ever made by a long shot,” says Osborne. “I definitely did not have the expectation it would be one of my most well-received beers.”

It was a defining moment for Deep Fried Beers. One that gained Osborne some of his most fervent fans.

“The people paying my electric bill are the ones who thought [that beer] was really f**king cool,” says Osborne.

After that, Osborne says he jumped down the rabbit hole. And not just with IPAs.

Take, for example, the Piña Colada-inspired Sour Patchwork 3, a mammoth 8% ABV smoothie sour fruited with over three pounds per gallon of pineapple, lime, and coconut.

“It’s just gigantic, essentially a big old Berliner weisse,” says Osborne, who likes to give those kettle sours to folks who say they don’t like beer.

Nathan Gebhard, Osborne’s old roommate who now runs the cocktail and wine program and front of house at Deep Fried Beers / Night School, says fans went crazy for this smoothie sour.

“You’re literally drinking just a plain old Piña Colada smoothie, but it’s also 8% ABV,” he says. “How is this happening? It’s just fresh pineapple and coconut in a beer. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s so good.”

But not everything Osborne has made has been peachy keen.

Even though most of the beers were spectacular, other times, the beers spectacularly failed.

That’s par for the course when you’re coloring outside the lines.

When Osborne brewed Green Goblin, he knew he’d probably pushed too far.

The beer had fifteen pounds per barrel of T-90 hops. “I see that one as a big flop in my portfolio,” he laughs, referencing the beer’s sub-four rating on Untappd.

The egregious amount of vegetal character in the beer proved overpowering for most. “It may have been a stupid idea, but I also know that was the worst fifteen-pound-per-barrel beer I’ll ever make,” says Osborne.

At Deep Fried Beers, some experiments work, some don’t. But each beer pushes the possibilities a little farther.

High Highs and Low Lows

Photography courtesy Nathan Gebhard of Deep Fried Beers / Night School

When Osborne opened his own spot, he knew all the time over-the-stop stuff wouldn’t keep on the lights.

“Honestly, it feels like it could disappear,” he candidly shares of the “going crazy, pushing the limits, and riding the wave as long as I can” approach with Deep Fried Beers.

Instead, Night School embraces the idea of your local pub.

When they opened, they served only New York-style pizza for the first nine months. “We were just making the best pizza we could possibly make,” says Gebhard, noting they brought in a kitchen consultant, Wesley Knopp, who had experience working in renowned pizza parlors like Scarr’s Pizza and Paulie Gee’s.

Every day, Deep Fried Beers/ Night School offers four varieties of 18-20in pies and slices—cheese and pepperoni always, along with a rotating veggie and meat one.

Now, says Gebhard, “we’re the spot that’s known for pizza.”

In December, they added smash burgers with plans for wings and brunch down the line.

This is the duality of Deep Fried Beers / Night School.

“It’s a place where I can serve five-dollar pints at happy hour,” Osborne explains. “Where you can sit down, have four beers, and hang out at your local spot without getting absolutely housed.”

Or you can drink Osborne’s frequently 8+% ABV offerings under Deep Fried Beers. But you probably won’t stay sober. “Unless you have a high tolerance,” he jokes.

At Night School, you’ll find beers like a German pilsner with Barca, an heirloom Weyermann barley that lagered for nine weeks.

Or Gebhard’s favorite—a hazy pale ale called Homeroom.

“If Deep Fried Beers had a baby brother to look after at Night School,” says Gebhard, “that’s Homeroom.”

Homeroom sits between Night School’s very light pilsners and the whacky, wild stuff at Deep Fried Beers, acting almost like a bridge.

You’ll see that interconnecting theme everywhere between the low-key Night School and high-octane Deep Fried Beers.

Cocktails for Extra Credit

Photography courtesy of Deep Fried Beers / Night School

On the cocktail side, Gebhard tries to find that sweet spot between elevated and accessible.

“We’re not going to shove anything in your face,” he explains. “Do you like it? Great! We try to be super simple but have some fun.”

For instance, a rotating clarified milk punch called Hall Pass.

Gebhard learned the process from a recipe written down by…wait for it…Benjamin Franklin (yes, that one) in a book called the Cocktail Codex. To make his clarified milk punch, Gebhard takes a base liquor, a fruit or acid like lemon juice, and a bit of smoky black tea, and blends them all together. He then pours milk in, which creates curdles that act almost like a cheesecloth, clarifying the liquid as it drips through.

“On a molecular level, the curdles latch on to the parts of things we taste and get rid of the super astringent things,” explains Gebhard, “the heat from the alcohol, the bitterness from tannins in the tea, and the most aggressive part of the acid.”

You’re left with a super delicate cocktail. A recent version of Hall Pass included bourbon, cinnamon, a bit of local honey, and fresh apples from a local farm.

“It’s crazy how far the apple flavor went through when we used 2.5 quarts of bourbon,” says Gebhard, “but you could still get so much apple out of it because a lot of intensity and heat of bourbon was absorbed in curdles, and you were left with this nutty, slightly citrusy, silky [drink].”

Another way Gebhard eases folks into his cocktail program is with a sipping shot program he calls Extra Credit.

Essentially a series of boilermakers (beer paired with a shot), Extra Credit pairs a Night School beer with a small shot of one of Gebhard’s cocktails or shots.

Night School’s Swing Set New Zealand pils that’s a little hoppier gets a side car of whiskey.

The PRE-REQ German pilsner pairs with a shot of reposado tequila and Amontillado sherry. “It gives you this fun, I’m-at-the-ocean-drinking-a-crispy-pilsner-and-a-little-salty-tequila vibe,” laughs Gebhard.

Gebhard matches the West Coast IPA, WESt Friend, with gin; and for Homeroom serves a lighter amaro with a touch of mezcal “so you get this herby herbaceousness that balances with the hazy pale ale.”

It’s a fun approach to what Gebhard thinks is Deep Fried Beers / Night School’s “rural cocktail vibe.”

And if neither cocktails nor 12-pound-per-barrel double IPAs are your thing, well then, there’s always the Hamm’s on tap.

Seriously.

Going Ham on Hamm’s

A fervent fan of Hamm’s, Osborne wanted to bring the beer of the “land of sky-blue waters” on draft at his pub.

But his distributor kept stonewalling him.

In classic Osborne fashion, he decided to do something extreme.

For 115 days, Osborne posted a video of himself chugging a combination of Hamm’s and an energy drink from a local gas station called Stewart’s Shops in a big ass mug.

“I couldn’t fill it up all the way with Hamm’s, so I threw in eight more ounces of a f**king energy drink,” says Osborne, who tagged Hamm’s and Molson Coors in each video he posted on social media, “and chugged it.”

After one hundred days, Osborne got a text confirming his distributor would start providing him with kegs of Hamm’s to put on draft.

At Deep Fried Beers and Night School, you’re getting someone as dedicated to brewing beers with fifteen-plus pounds of hops per barrel as getting Hamm’s on draft.

Someone who is literally willing to sacrifice their body for something they believe in passionately.

It’s a place of guilty pleasures and one of everyday comforts.

It’s a place you can go for bullsh**t beers or for no-bullsh**t ones.

Will He Ever Deep Fry Beer?

Photography courtesy of Nathan Gebhard of Deep Fried Beers / Night School

Gebhard says people ask him and Osborne that question all the time.

“Deep Fried Beers answers the metaphorical question: If a beer was deep fried, what would it be like, how would it feel?” says Gebhard.

It would be a super smooth 8-10% crazily hopped IPA that’s simultaneously crazy delicious. “Sort of a mind-boggling conception [that makes you ask] what am I drinking and why do I like it so much?” says Gebhard.

For someone constantly riding the edge, you’d think Osborne would have the highest confidence.

“Truth be told, I hate almost all of my beer,” says Osborne with a little grin. “God, I f**ked up another one.”

But it’s that devil on one shoulder and angel on the other that keeps Deep Fried Beers and Night School so intriguing.

On the one hand, crazy, some might say, f**ked-up hoppy ales and kettle sours. And on the other, your classic pilsners and Hamm’s on tap.

“I am hopeful … that the people who come to my bar and drink Modelos and Hamm’s will throw me a bone and buy a pint of everything I make, have that beer, and go, okay, this is a lot, but it’s still drinkable,” shares Osborne.

In the next few weeks, Osborne plans to release his biggest-ever Deep Fried Beers, a triple IPA and two double IPAs. All of which are 9-10+% ABV with ten-plus pounds-per-barrel of hops.

“I’m getting back on my bullshit!” Osborne laughs.

For the record, Gebhard says he doesn’t believe Osborne has ever tried to deep fry beer.

But he wouldn’t be surprised if it happens at some point.

Honestly, we’d try it.