Dig in With Graver: Between a Rolling Rock and a Hard Place

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

In a 2026 study on U.S. beer trends, California-based Innerbody Research found that Pennsylvania ranks 7th on a list of suds-loving states and its favorite brew is — Rolling Rock.

Hold your horses there, Innerbody; I’ve done my fair share of research, and I can’t remember the last time I spotted a Rolling Rock in the wild. It would be like seeing a unicorn!

Founded in 1893, Latrobe Brewing Company was one of the largest breweries in the country. It changed ownership multiple times over the years. Its iconic extra pale lager, launched in 1939, hasn’t come “from the glass-lined tanks of Old Latrobe” since 2006, when Anheuser-Busch bought the brand and moved production to Newark, NJ.

I think that’s where the disconnect happened for me. What’s the old saying? You can lead a yinzer to pony bottles, but you can’t make her drink?

In my early 20s, Rolling Rock was my go-to brew. I wasn’t drawn to the taste as much as the folklore behind the beverage, from its horse-head logo to the cryptic “33” painted on every bottle. I even attended the inaugural Rolling Rock Town Fair in 2001. When organizers closed the beer garden early, I was injured in the ensuing stampede, but still managed to crowd-surf during the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ set.

Ahh, youth.

On Saturday nights, my friends and I would consume herds of those adorable, 7-ounce pony bottles. In 2024, when Trace Echo opened in Uptown — blocks away from where Rolling Rock was first sold and distributed — the taproom offered the ponies, but, according to Aadam Soorma, head of marketing and guest experience, the little lagers never caught on.

PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

Last Friday, my buddy Jeff Bertrand, an artist and food-and-beverage mascot aficionado, invited me to his porch party. Since Rolling Rock is the quintessential porch-drinkin’ beer, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get back in the saddle.

To my surprise, I easily located a six-pack at Giant Eagle and moseyed on over to Brighton Heights for the end-of-summer hootenanny. As I took my first swig from the familiar, yet foreign, 12-ounce bottle, another attendee commented on my beer of choice. He hailed from Newark.

We both agreed that Rolling Rock doesn’t look, taste, smell or feel the same as it did in its heyday.

Maybe my tastebuds are craft beer snobs. Maybe the Garden State doesn’t have glass-lined tanks. Maybe Latrobe’s mountain spring water is magical. Maybe I should switch to Stoney’s, another geologically named beer brewed in the former Rolling Rock facility that is now owned by CITY Brewing, the largest full-service co-manufacturer in the country.

Or maybe I’m just too old and curmudgeonly to accept change.

A SCRAPBOOK PAGE FROM MY 1998 VISIT TO ASSATEAGUE ISLAND, OFF THE COAST OF MARYLAND / PHOTO BY KRISTY GRAVER

Speaking of horses and the relentless onslaught of time, I plan to vent my frustrations next week at Bella Terra Stables’ Hot Flash Friday event. It’s a chance for perimenopausal and menopausal women to experience a little equine-assisted mood enhancement on a beautiful Murrysville farm. You can wrangle tickets online.

I’ve been to the ol’ homestead on a day when my emotions were blazing like a red-hot chili pepper. Simply being in the presence of the animals (and Bella Terra’s amazing humans) regulated my nervous system better than an estrogen patch or extra pale lager.

And I didn’t have to worry about a stampede.