This epinion has been part of the ‘Manly’ write-off sponsored by HawgWyld and Joubert. Check out their member pages for more information, or to Char.Mike’s graciously donated page (http://www.angelfire.com/mb2/mypageontheweb/page9.html) to see other participants and their articles.
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When Hawgwyld first sent me the invitation to this write-off a month ago, I had big plans. I was going to write a fantastic essay on all things many, a discourse which would be part Voltaire, part Dennis Miller and part Indiana Jones. And then, in a typically manly fashion, I put it off – until the day that it was due (sorry W/O guys!). A topic eluded me – a movie? Nah, I’ve already written about my favorites. Ditto for music, and I don’t play enough games anymore. What was one of the quintessential things about being a man I enjoyed?
BEER.
Like a resounding voice from the heavens, it came to me.
WRITE ABOUT BEER.
Perfect! I knew the topic, and while I can’t expound upon it the way that Bruguru or BeerLover can, I can talk about it with knowledge and experience.
So, the task was at hand, and I began searching for the brands I treasure, brews which makes he palate quiver and the mind take notice. I searched for my favorite, a Belgian Ale called Chimay Cinq Cents. But wait – not only does Epinions not have Cinq Cents listed, there are NO Chimay Ales at all! And I couldn't find La Maudite, La Fin du Monde, Duval or any other Belgian-style beer – but they DID have that Miller Lite of Belgians, Stella Artois. What gives?
I frantically looked for other favorites, to be stymied at all turns. No Kostritzer Schwarzbier, no Paulaner Salvator. Ach! These great beers were also missing! Do these Epinions editors have no minds, have their tongues known only the stale quaffs of Budweiser (141 reviews) and Coors Light (140)?
It hit me then – I’m a beer snob. And THAT was to be my topic. Because beer snobs aren’t born, they are nurtured, created from the masses who drink swill in their youth on their way to manhood. This is one man’s story…
EPISODE I: The Tailgate Menace
As a youth, playing in the loud, dirty parking lots of JFK and the Vet, my friend Justin and I began my path by sneaking steak cans of Genessee Cream Ale from the coolers of our tailgating parents. Cold and bitter, we were taking the first step toward our manhood – beer. To me, it was both the most magnificent and most foul of ambrosias.
From there, the invasion of my father’s private stock ensued. Unfortunately, my father didn’t drink much beer, but knew he had to have some around for guests. The ‘guests’ were given whatever swill he had on hand – Schlitz, Black Label and Piels were common residents of the basement, gathering dust until the next party. (One beer that stood out in my mind, however, was Nude Beer. Yes, that’s Nude beer. It has a scratch-off label, and tasted like cheese left in somebody’s old socks for a week. But we didn’t care – it was beer … but that’s another story).
EPISODE II: Attack of the Crap
Once I reached college, I saw beer in a whole new light. I realized that beer could have some taste while giving a buzz. Being light on budget and purchasing options, we often went for the cheap and easy methods – juniors who lived in the dorms who would buy that case of Busch or 30-pack of Stroh’s in return for $5 of their own. Ah, the sweet pungency of a semi-warm Busch/Meister-Brau/Milwaukee’s Best shot-gunned without regard to the consequences. Early years of college are episodes of quantity, not quality when it comes to beer. The only questions a young college boy asks are ‘How much a case’ or ‘Is it $1 pitcher night’, and we drank whatever was handed to us.
It was a cool Fall night when the first step toward a new life began. Our distributor, an old friend of the house, offered our fraternity a new beer he’d recently started to stock (well, new to him – it was well -known in the eastern coal country). He would give it to us cheap – less than the kegs of Busch we usually drank. We agreed and took this new brand home to test among the brothers and honored guests. The keg was tapped – and Yuengling Lager never left the house again. From that point forward, Busch was for the people we didn’t know or particularly care to spend the night, but the ‘Lager’ was for us, our friends and those who wanted to know much, much better. Busch was the fallback beer, only to be ingested when in direst straights.
As college progressed, I was able to expand my horizons, and it was that Mecca of good taste that would start my transformation in earnest. Zeno’s provided ‘Around the World in 80 Beers’, both an exciting method of trying new things and a way of realizing that there were things beyond American pilsners and Yuengling. I discovered Guinness and Spaten, and beers from around the world whose names have faded from memory. Still, for all the excitement they brought, they were still rare treats for a poor college student. But they had forever soured me on the beers found in cans so prevalent at parties. No longer would a Stroh’s satisfy my needs – I had evolved into something new.
EPISODE III: Rise of the Microbrews
When I moved to Colorado, my transformation was nearly complete. Before I had even sit down in Boulder, I had a Fat Tire in hand, an new and exotic taste which would become an old friend time and again in the local bars, pubs and taverns. I might wander and try other brews – Left Hand, Avery Brewing, even Boulder Beer – but Fat Tire was that beer upon which I would rest my weary head, a comforting pint which showed mastery of what beer could be.
My friends would visit, and they would have to be taught the ways of the microbrews. I sent them back to where they came from, transformed from mainstream beer drinkers into something more – I had opened their minds, and their palates, to what COULD BE. They took this message with them, accepting its gospel as truth and delighting as Eastern bars learned what we out west had known all along. Anheiser-Busch was the antichrist, Miller his wife and Coors their red-headed stepchild. The only true way to salvation was to discover that good beer was measured in barrels, not truckloads.
Yeah, I slummed once in a while, sucking back Bud while huddled around a campfire. But I would always feel guilty, making snide comments to friends about it while we wistfully hoped to get back to the real beer. When someone would arrive with true beer, we would swoop in desperation to get some of these bottles of liquid gold. I was almost complete.
EPISODE IV: A New Hope
When I moved back from Colorado, I was known as a beer-snob around my friends. They thought the term was derogatory, but I wore it like a badge. To me, beer wasn’t beer unless it was brewed by some guy in a small room which produced less in a year than the big 3 did in a day. I mocked, I harangued, I attempted to show them the ‘truth’ as I knew it.
And then I was shown a new truth. There were beers out there which weren’t microbrews but were worth notice and *gasp* consumption! Friends of mine introduced me to imported beers, ones with charisma and taste unlike the normal German and Mexican imports that I had known. English beers with body, German beers with character and Belgian beers which were heaven dripped into a bottle. Trips into Monk's and Ludwig's in Philly transformed my steadfast opinions as I realized that there were other ales, bocks and more that had eluded me so far in this life. Chimay, Paulaner and Samuel Smith’s joined Guinness – one of the few imports I really enjoyed – as did a myriad of other beers from around the world in my enlightenment. I found myself inspecting beer lists at every ethnic restaurant, scouring beer aisles at local bottle shops, listening to Michael Jackson (beer guru, not weird guy) on tape in the car. A new world of options opened up to me.
My ascension to full-on Beer Snob was complete. I had found a past time that not only rewarded me with the effects of consumption, but one that allowed the senses to play as well. I had found a way to make drinking beer a hobby rather than something that would make my wife look at me with eyebrow raised. I had taken one of the achievements – the Privileges – of being a man and turned it into art.
At least that’s my opinion … I could be wrong.
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Since I wrote this in the Paulaner Hefe-weisen space, I should educate you on this excellent import.
The first time I had this beer, we had just gotten in at the West End Tavern, in Boulder, CO. Of course, as with any new beer we received, the staff decided to use up half of the new stock checking it out. I’d had hefeweisens before, but they had also been microbrew versions that were fairly similar. Paulaner gave me a version which was unique and intriguing. We looked at the tall bottle, and poured it into the few pilsners we had.
What I would consider the "flagship" beer of the Paulaner line, this was my first experience with this brewer, but one that made sure that I would keep my eye out for them. A true "hefe-weizen", Paulaner uses top-fermenting yeast, Hallertau hops and a combination of malted wheat and malter barley (60%-40%) in the brewing, which includes a 6-week lagering time to maintain the sweet character of the beer.
Pour » The beer pours without much head, having a fairly even golden color. There is evidence of some carbonation within the brew but not too much. There is evidence of the wheat in the bottle and sometimes your glass - the unfiltered nature of this beer is what makes it as good as it is.
Nose » Poured into a tall pilsner glass, you'll find the aroma hits you just before you sip, offering up a strong hint of bananas. There is a distinct maltiness to the nose, but that is easily overcome by the honey and banana aromas.
Taste » When the beer hits your mouth, however, instead of banana you'll be treated to a sweet, honey-like taste that is reminiscent of an alcoholic lemonade without the harsh citrus overtones. That taste comes through, strong enough to be a presence, but light enough to dance on the tongue. The finish offers a hint of hops as it fades, preparing your taste buds for the next bit of nectar to come.
Each sip is refreshing, the carbonation allowing the flavor erupt in your mouth without being overly bubbly. This isn't a beer for mass consumption, but rather a treat to enjoy during a quiet evening or while sitting outside at the end of a hot day, overlooking the mountains or the sea.
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