Of all the beers I drank in Skopje, Macedonia, Pivolabs Craft Brewery’s Foks APA tasted the most “American.” On Sunday, when I visited the nanobrewery, I learned why.
“I lived in Florida for 10 years. Finished high school there. Even got my drivers license.”
Ilija, Pivolabs brewer, showed me his Florida license. I noted it matched his Florida Gators cap. In exchange, I showed him my Illinois license. But then I took out a copy of my passport out of my wallet.
“Look. Birthplace: Saint Petersburg, Florida. Not too far from where you lived by Tampa.”
He snickered, “Shit. Two Florida men being let loose in a brewery. And being the brewer, all the beers are on my tab.”
“Sounds like a Sunday Funday.”
The Florida Men Of Pivolabs Craft Brewery
The people at Sakam Pivo Bottleshop had put me in touch with Dima, the owner of Pivolabs Craft Brewery. Although I had arranged a tour with him, he later contacted me to say that he would not be in town on Sunday. He referred me to the brewer, Ilija, an engineer by trade, whose brewing bug started during his time in Florida. He had lived in the Tampa Bay area, so Cigar City Brewing was his first taste of craft beer. When he returned to Macedonia, he saw there was no good craft beer, and eagerly joined Pivolabs’ project.
I had arranged a tour since the nanobrewery is not, technically, open to the public. In fact, it’s in a private house, the cement basement of the family of one of the partners involved in Pivolabs.
A 30 minute bus ride took me to Skopje’s outskirts, in the quiet Mite Bogoevic suburb. The neighbors watched me curiously as I wandered the street looking for the brewery’s address. Eventually, I saw an open basement door with a light on. Iron Maiden blasted out, and inside I could see a row of small fermentation tanks. Cautiously, I walked inside, and immediately ran into Ilija, in wire-rimmed glasses, a Florida Gators baseball cap and bristling mustache. Without making introductions, he offered me a Foks American Pale Ale.
He cracked open a bottle for himself, made introductions, and told me about Pivolabs.
“Shit. Two Florida men being let loose in a brewery. And being the brewer, all the beers are on my tab.”
Breaking Skopje’s Brewery Chain
Unfortunately, Pivolabs Nanobrewery started production at the worst possible time, February of 2020. However, from the beginning they started bottling and were able to survive the COVID-19 pandemic by delivering enough to break even. Their small 100 Liters production are distributed to the few craft beer bars in Skopje and nearby towns. Being new, they rely on flashy photos and marketing, as Dima is a photographer too.
After discussing the brewery, and opening a second beer, I complimented Ilija’s choice of hard metal and prog music. It turns out he also plays guitar, but being an engineer, is more technical. We began sharing music playlists. He’s practically American, and we cracked plenty of cultural jokes. Somewhere around our seventh beer, we were headbanging to that special part of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain” when the bass solos…
“My bus is at midnight. I need to go. You sure about driving after these beers?”
“Remember that Florida license? Police don’t touch you with an American ID. They assume you have connections. I’ll take you.”
“Can we eat first?”
“Sure. You mentioned Gluvo Kuce. I haven’t been there yet.”
First, we stopped at his house to pick up something. Ilija showed me his collection of guitars and invited me to play a few tunes. I do, feeling hazier by the minute.
Next, at Gluvo Kuce, we got chicken wings and another beer. Later we drove to the bus station. Ilija tells me he has family in Belgrade and will contact me the next time he visits. I enter the bus, and pass out. Before I know it, I’m back in Serbia.
