Hailing from Ravenna in Italy, Virginia Casadio has carved out a career in brewing here in Britain. But despite brewing professionally, she still has a true passion for homebrewing and the doors it helped open for her.

Growing up in Italy, a country defined by its wine culture, I had very little exposure to beers that weren’t industrial lagers.

Discovering craft beer was a revelation. I had no idea beer could taste so different—and I became hooked. I started scouting every beer shop to try new brews and was an early and admittedly annoying Untappd user.

The first beers that truly blew my mind were Anchor Steam, Founders All Day IPA, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and Dogfish Head 60-Minute IPA. I’ll always remember them; they were unlike anything I’d ever tasted before, and I kept coming back for more.

I was also lucky enough to live in both the UK and Belgium in my early twenties, where beer culture had a huge influence on me. I grew to appreciate Belgian beer with its complexity and strength, but it was British cask ale that really stole my heart. It was love at first sip.

At 23, while on a tour of Fuller’s Brewery in Chiswick, I had an epiphany. We were in the hop room, talking about recipe development, when it hit me: I could brew my own beer. I could write a recipe, get the ingredients, and create something unique.

I shared the idea with a friend who was already experimenting with homebrewing, and soon enough, I floated the idea to my university friends.

On the day of my graduation, they surprised me with a fermentation kit—nothing fancy, just plastic buckets and a few basic tools, but it was all I needed to begin a journey that would change my life.

I bought brewing books, ordered ingredients online, and with a mix of excitement and fear, brewed my first beer in my Venice kitchen—an IPA, naturally, since that’s all I drank back then. I started with extract malt and a small mash with specialty grains.

I think of homebrewers as enthusiastic alchemists.

Virginia Casadio

I remember having a boil-over and thinking my beer was ruined—some of the hops were lost, and I figured the IBUs would be off. But somehow, it turned out fine, at least in my memory, and my friends were happy to drink it.

Here’s the funny thing: to this day, I’ve never truly enjoyed a beer I’ve brewed. The more I brewed, the more I felt the need to improve, and that quest for the perfect beer has never stopped. It’s what keeps me going today, working professionally and always striving to brew better beer.

From plastic buckets in a closet, I quickly realized I needed better equipment and a larger setup. I felt this inexplicable drive to make better beer.

By my third brew, I’d switched to all-grain brewing and convinced my boyfriend to help me build a bigger kit. Together, we constructed an 80L, three-vessel, gravity-fed brewhouse in my attic. I brewed almost every week, fine-tuning my craft.

As any brewer knows—professional or homebrewer—temperature control is critical to making consistent, high-quality beer.

So I set up two fridges and a chest freezer: one for fermenting, one for cooling and cellaring, and one for lagering. I even convinced a local cooper to make me two small barrels for aging beer in wood.

I began experimenting with different beer styles, from IPAs to saisons and imperial stouts, eventually diving into lagers.

Brewing competitions became a vital part of my learning process. They gave me honest, constructive feedback and introduced me to a community of passionate homebrewers.

I was often the only woman, and much younger than most, but I never felt intimidated. The brewing community welcomed me with open arms.

Experienced brewers took me under their wings, offering advice and encouragement when things didn’t go as planned. Those early days of brewing are among my most cherished memories. I met some of the best people I know.

Then, it happened. I’d always loved the book Radical Brewing, and at the end, it has a section on going pro. The line that stood out was, “So you want to wear the rubber boots?” That’s when it clicked—I could turn my passion into a career, not just a hobby.

Brewing became an obsession. I spent every waking moment thinking about beer, counting down the hours at work until I could get home to brew.

I spent my weekends tasting beers, meeting people in the industry, and learning everything I could. I knew I had to create a life where brewing was my full-time pursuit.

But I was also nervous. I’d never worked in food manufacturing before, had no experience with heavy lifting, and had never operated a pump or driven a forklift. I needed to find out if I could actually hack it.

I found a small brewery in Sweden, Strange Brew Beer, that offered room and board in exchange for work. When I arrived, I immediately felt at home—it was like another “love at first sight” experience. The work came naturally, and by that point, I was hooked for life.

Brewing became an obsession. I spent every waking moment thinking about beer, counting down the hours at work until I could get home to brew.

Virginia Casadio

Next, I decided to study brewing. Passion is essential, but I wanted to learn as much as I could. I enrolled in a brewing degree, which led to internships and eventually my first professional brewing job.

From brewing my first beer in my kitchen to enrolling in a professional brewing course, just three years passed. It felt like a whirlwind, but in many ways, it was just the beginning.

Fast forward six years, and I’m now working at a brewery I love, making beers I’m proud of. But I still feel like my journey has just begun.

Deep down, I remain a humble homebrewer. I still take some wort home from the brewery to experiment new yeast, different styles or just with new ingredients I forage, and I think of homebrewers as enthusiastic alchemists—people who pour their free time into making wort, united by a single purpose: to make great beer.