In the geography of American beer, Michigan is a holy land, and Bell’s Brewery is its cathedral.

Located in Comstock (and originally Kalamazoo), Bell’s is the brewery that taught the Midwest what hops tasted like. Founded by Larry Bell in 1985, it began with a 15-gallon soup kettle and a refusal to filter out the yeast. While the rest of the country was drinking beer that was effectively yellow carbonated water, Bell’s was brewing liquids that were cloudy, bitter, and unapologetically difficult.

The Two Hearted King

The brewery’s reputation rests on the shoulders of a single giant: Two Hearted Ale.

Named after the Two Hearted River in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, this beer is consistently voted the best in America, not because it is trendy, but because it is perfect. It is an IPA made exclusively with Centennial hops, creating a flavor profile of pine and grapefruit that has become the “Gold Standard” for the style. It is the beer equivalent of a perfect pair of blue jeans—it never goes out of style, it fits everyone, and it handles the wear and tear of a long night better than anything else in your closet.

The Season of the Sun

Culturally, Bell’s is responsible for a meteorological phenomenon known as Oberon Day. This is the annual release of their wheat ale, Oberon, usually occurring in late March.

For Michiganders and their neighbors, Oberon Day marks the official end of winter, regardless of what the thermometer says. It is a mass hallucination where thousands of people stand on patios in 40-degree weather, drinking a beer that tastes like sunshine and oranges, convincing themselves that summer has arrived. It is a triumph of marketing over meteorology, proving that if the beer is good enough, you can ignore the frostbite.

The Independent Streak

Ultimately, Bell’s is defined by its stubbornness. For decades, Larry Bell famously fought against buyouts and distribution wars, acting as the grumpy guardian of independent craft beer.

Although the brewery was eventually sold to Lion (a subsidiary of Kirin) in 2021, the legacy of that stubbornness remains in the liquid. It is a brewery that feels permanent. It doesn’t chase the “hype cycle” of pastry stouts or glitter beers. It simply makes a Stout that tastes like stout, an Amber that tastes like amber, and a Wheat Ale that tastes like the promise of a better tomorrow.