The beer world has a few funny phrases. Wort. Bung. Yeast bomb. But one of our favourites – and one we’re living through right now – is cuckoo brewing.
It’s not a new idea, but it’s gaining traction. The term is thought to have hatched in Germany or Scandinavia, where small, start-up brewers would ‘nest’ in the tanks of larger or better-equipped operations – much like the bird that lays its eggs in another bird’s home. In brewing, though, the relationship is more generous than sneaky. The host brewery welcomes the visitor, often helping them scale up a recipe, and the visiting brewer brings their own recipe and ingredients, their own brew crew, and a very clear idea of the beer they want to make.
It’s a model rooted in trust, collaboration, and respect. And in today’s beer landscape – one where start-up costs are brutal, timelines are elastic, and the climate (economic and actual) is changing fast – cuckoo brewing isn’t just practical. It’s smart. It means smaller brewers can produce at scale before their own facilities are fully built. It keeps the engine warm, the recipes flowing, and the glasses full.
Right now, it’s exactly what we’re doing at Apex.
Our build
Our own state-of-the-art brewery at Patson Hill is nearly there – but until we can start mashing in on home turf, we’ve taken to the road. Quite literally, in some cases, with vans full of malt and a brew crew ready to rock.
We brewed our first ever beer, a 3.9% session NEIPA called Piston Popper, with the haze heroes at Moor Beer in Bristol – pioneers of ‘live beer’ and champions of unfiltered flavour. A few weeks later, we headed to Fine Tuned Brewery in Somerton for a modern bitter with a classic cask base: Backmarker Bitter, built for pubs, Sundays, and second halves.
Next up is lager – brewed with the lager legends at Utopia in Devon, who know a thing or two about clean, crisp, technically bang-on beer. Then we’re up to Reading to work with Siren, experimental kings of craft beer for our black IPA. And finally, we’re in talks to finish this cuckoo stint on familiar ground, at a more local brewery where we’re hoping to brew a malty, chewy, deep red IPA that’s got the colder months written all over it.
Why cuckoo?
For us, it’s been the perfect way to stretch our wings before the big launch. But beyond that, cuckoo brewing is one of the most collegiate, joyful, and quietly radical things happening in UK beer right now. It shows how much this industry values shared knowledge, open doors, and proper collaboration. It’s not just about tank time. It’s about learning, about lending, about raising the bar together – whether you’re ten days in or ten years deep. It’s a two-way street of sharing and caring about a proper pint!
Each of these collaborations has helped us scale up recipes from our nano-brewing past, test them at commercial level, and refine them with real-world feedback. We’ve brewed in spaces far bigger than ours, worked with kit that mimics what we’ll soon be using, and shared stories (and pints) with some of the best in the business.
And in a climate where many industries are turning inward, the beer world still leans outward. It’s still a place where brewers make room for one another. Where a rising tide lifts all casks. And where sharing knowledge is part of the gig, not a guarded secret.
Of course, we can’t wait to be brewing on our own kit. Nothing beats the control, the ownership, the dialled-in detail. But we’re in no rush to skip the networking and learning curve. And when we do fire up our own system this autumn, it’ll be with sharper tools, better instincts, and a whole roster of brilliant breweries behind us.
Until then, keep an eye out for those Apex beers popping up on taps around Dorset and beyond. If someone asks where it was brewed, just smile and tell them: it's a cuckoo – but it’s ours.
