Lazy Leaves Märzen: Autumn in a Glass, Brought to You by OKC’s Big Friendly

How cool is this? A few weeks back, the good folks at Big Friendly, one of my absolute favourite Oklahoma breweries, emailed me with a pleasant surprise. They’d be releasing a Märzen in early November, the first one they’ve ever brewed.

And not just any Märzen. Lazy Leaves has its roots in my attempts to convince brothers Will and Joe Quinlin to brew a Märzen for Oktoberfest. The beer is based loosely on an article about Märzen I wrote for Brew Your Own, along with a flurry of conversations and correspondence over the spring and summer.

Would I mind being included on the label as a collaborator, they asked? Of course not! Needless to say, I feel beyond honoured that Will and Joe would brew a Märzen inspired by our conversations, and then offer to put A Tempest in a Tankard on the label as a collaborator. This is truly special. Class act, those Big Friendly folks.[1]

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We Interrupt This Program to Bring You My Beerscapes Newsletter

I haven’t written a blog post about a North American brewery in more than half a decade. Despite that, breweries like Big Friendly have featured prominently in my now-annual roundup of my favourite beers in a given year. The Big Friendly has also graced the pages of my Beerscapes Newsletter, together with my other favourite Oklahoma breweries.[2] The newsletter is where I occasionally write about topics that don’t quite fit on the blog, or that will make their way to the blog at some point. If you haven’t subscribed yet, now’s the time!!

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OKC’s Big Friendly

The Big Friendly started life as a repurposed school bus that took its brewing show on the road to local beer fests and food truck events. Joe and Will eventually found themselves a permanent home in the Wheeler District of OKC, a new and eminently walkable urban development with Scandinavian flair. They’ve been turning heads ever since. And not only in Oklahoma. Big Friendly has won a slew of Great American Beer Fest accolades for their beers over the past five years, and received Brewery of the Year honours in the small brewery category in 2022 and 2023.

Thanks to Will’s modified decoction method, the Big Friendly’s Central European beers display all the hallmark richness of the best German and Czech beers. But it’s not just these styles that shine. Big Friendly’s limited-edition saisons stand out from the crowd, and their fruit beers are among the best in North America this side of New Glarus. If you’re a hop head, Big Friendly brews a range of pale ales hazy and clear with all the New World hop goodness your heart could ever desire.

Lagers to the Fore

When I first met Joe and Will on that humid day typical of Oklahoma summers, what struck me right off the bat was their personable demeanours — and their lagers, the perfect match on that day when the mercury brushed up against 105 Fahrenheit. Unlike some breweries known for their lager (Kansas City Bier Co., Chuckanut, Bierstadt Lagerhaus, to name but a few), the Big Friendly flies under the lager radar.

But all it took was one sip for me to realize that the Big Friendly was perhaps the best-kept lager secret in the United States.

Will and Joe didn’t just have one lager on tap as a sop to folks who want something “light and approachable.” No, in addition to a broad palette of IPAs and a smattering of Belgian-style ales, they had four or five lagers on tap, running the gamut from a German-style Pils wonderfully hopped with Hallertau Mittelfrüh to a flavourful výčepní pivo Czech-style lager clocking in below 4% ABV. No mean feat, that.  

If the Big Friendly doesn’t brew lager exclusively, lager is one of the pillars that holds the brewery aloft. And it’s a solid pillar. Which is why I began asking Will and Joe why they don’t brew darker lagers, especially something in line with the demonstrable lust of North American beer drinkers for the amber-hued Märzens that pop up like mushrooms as Oktoberfest nears. I suppose the constant question eventually convinced them to brew a Märzen, if for no other reason than to get me to stop asking the same question all the time.

Lazy Leaves: The Beer

So, what is a Märzen, some of you might be asking? I’ve written at length about Märzens in a number of venues (including here on the blog), so I’ll just refer you to my articles in Brewery History and Brew Your Own.

For Lazy Leaves, Will went with a grain bill consisting of 100% Vienna malt from Weyermann, with a dusting of Carafa II cast over the sparge. Following the lead of breweries like Klosterbrauerei Weissenohe in Franconia, he went with Hersbrucker throughout, ending up around 29 IBUs. (For what it’s worth, I love the often-overlooked Hersbrucker hop. Its fruity, spicy, and mildly floral character lend beers aromas and flavours ranging from Lebkuchen to a twist of orange zest, depending on the malt bill.) Will opted for Andechs yeast, a fine choice for a Märzen. It attenuates less than 34/70, the classic lager workhorse from Weihenstephan, yielding beers with a fuller and rounder body that showcases the malt. In the case of Lazy Leaves, it finished at 5.4% ABV, ideal for the style.

The beer itself turned out lighter than Will had intended (deep gold with glints of orange).[3] But that’s totally in keeping with the spirit of Märzen. Not all Märzens are amber. Rothaus’s Märzen is a case in point.[4] And a beer of that hue strikes me as a fine way to introduce malty Märzens to an Oklahoman drinking public that doesn’t see too many beers labeled explicitly as such.

As for the November release date, most North Americans associate Märzen with Oktoberfest, which is long since in the rearview mirror. But we don’t have to confine ourselves to the Oktoberfest season to drink a tasty Märzen. After all, a November Märzen is entirely in keeping with the whims of Oklahoma autumns, which run hot through Oktober, then suddenly turn frosty in November. I’m all for a beer that pays tribute to that.

How does it taste? In the absence of my own tasting notes, here’s how Will describes Lazy Leaves: “I get notes of hearty country loaf and hints of dried dark fruits. The hops are balanced and just assertive enough to keep the malt sweetness in check.”

I’m down for a beer like that. Make mine a Maß!

Related Posts

Klosterbrauerei Weissenohe: Where Malty Beers Fit For Monks Meet Dry-Hopped Ales

Autumn in a Glass: Märzen, Oktoberfest Beer, and Vienna Lager

The Colour of Fall Leaves: Tasting Notes on Märzen, Oktoberfestbier, and Vienna Lager

Roughtail Enters the Ring with a Selection of Heavy-Weight Beers

A Taste of Oklahoma in Six Glasses

Hat tips: Huge thanks, of course, to Joe and Will for including me as part of this collab. And a big shoutout to Mac Butcher, whose brew system is eons better than my stove-and-countertop stock pot and drinks cooler setup. We brewed a handful of recipes together in 2021 and 2022 that formed the backdrop of recipes that made their way into articles published in Brew Your Own and Zymurgy.

Images: Cheers to Joe for supplying me with photos of the label artwork and the beer, and for inviting me to send along a few photos for their consideration. The photo on the label was taken a mere two weeks ago today on 24 October, 2025, during a beer hike from Coburg to Sesslach in Upper Franconia. It fits the name of the beer — and also evokes the Franconian origins of the recipe Will and Joe brewed.

Endnotes

[1] For the record, I’m in Vienna at the moment and didn’t take part in the actual brewing of the beer. I also haven’t tried it yet. That’ll have to wait till mid-December, if my partner-in-crime shows up with a can or two in her luggage when she comes out for her annual winter Euro vacation.

[2] If you’re curious, some of my faves include: Bier Kraft (McAlester), Skydance (OKC), Heirloom (Tulsa), Roughtail (OKC), and Stonecloud (Stillwater and OKC).

[3] This footnote is for the brewers in the crowd. Weyermann kilns its Vienna malt within a range of 6 to 9 EBC (2.8 to 3.8 Lovibond). I’ve never brewed with Vienna malt from Bestmalz (Heidelberg) or Ireks (Kulmbach), but both kiln their Vienna malt to a slightly darker hue (8 to 10 EBC, or 3.6 to 4.3 Lovibond). That’s still quite light, but the addition of some Munich malt, or a handful of CaraMunich, or a sprinkling of Carafa, or a longer boil would put you in amber territory, if that’s your aim. The key, though, is to maintain drinkability. Too much caramel malt mitigates against this.

[4] We’ll leave the gold-hued Märzens of Austria to the side. They’re a completely different beast. If you’d like to know more about those, have a listen to the podcast I did with Jeff Alworth of Beervana a few years back.

© 2025 Franz D. Hofer and A Tempest in a Tankard. All rights reserved.