BEER

I’ve never tolerated distilled alcohol very well. Maybe it’s from growing up in a dry home, never tasting the stuff until college. Even then, the only reason I consumed was the truly pathetic one – everybody else was doing it. I got drunk exactly once – a bottle of Heaven Hill bourbon, split with the good Doctor Bothwell Lee. I got the spins, threw-up (booted as Princetonians called it) and woke up feeling like absolute proverbial dog shit the next morning. As Jimmy Buffett says, “It made me highly irregular and I swore I’d never do it again.”

Despite the very best efforts of my friend Katalina, I’ve never acquired a taste for wine either (except maybe that chardonnay from Bonnie Doon). My grandmother Dale’s (awful) home-made current wine may have contributed to my aversion. Wine is also quite subject to snobby elitism. The very idea that price equals quality or paying $100+ for a bottle of fermented grape juice is alien and nothing more than conspicuous consumption to me – rather like wearing a $40K timepiece that does no more and no better than a $10 Timex. But, I digress.

Beer is the one alcoholic beverage I still enjoy. The color, cool crispness and carbonation combine to enhance the day. It is a simple brew at a relatively low price. Sadly, recent years have seen a rise in beer snobbery. The notion that an imported beer or one made in a micro-brewery are “better” than my good old Budweiser is absolute nonsense. There is no “better” beer, only a beer that you prefer. Some folks sadly don’t follow the guidance of their own taste, but those of others. Tolerating some new, “hip” pumpkin latte autumn “special” ale, instead of enjoying what you really like seems odd, but understandable, given the advertisers’ ability to shape our preferences.

Commercial brewer gimmickry has always been part of the scene, from the iconic Busch Clydesdales to the Hamm’s bear to Miller’s brilliant posturing of Pilsner beer as “Lite”. I always got a kick out of Stroh’s “fire brewed” claim. What that means is that instead of heating the mash with steam, as most commercial brewers do, they put a diesel oil flame directly on the kettle. Go figure how that makes the beer better.

I learned a lot about beer when I brewed my own at home in the 80’s. It’s a very simple process, which requires few tools and little talent. Just keep the tools clean, add water, malt, hops and yeast. Then the yeasty beasties do the work, turning carbohydrates into alcohol and carbon dioxide. The CO2 escapes from the primary fermentation, so you add a little yeast and sugar just before bottling to achieve the desired level of carbonation. Paying full retail for my ingredients, I could still produce a 12 oz bottle for about 12 cents each (not including labor), plus the amortized cost of the reusable bottle. Imagine what it costs Miller or Busch to produce a bottle and you’ll grasp the incredible profit involved.

Home brewing also provides the opportunity to brew beer with as much color, hops and alcohol as you like. The local home brewers in Florida met once a month to sample each other’s brews. A 4 oz sample glass x 20 brewers x 2-3 variations = too much beer. Home brewers tend to go to extremes, just because they can. Double or triple hops, high alcohol or extra grainy beers abound. More is not always better – a truth that applies to many situations. My light lagers were often tasted with distain – “This tastes like Bud”, which I took as a compliment, since that was my intent. The other important distinction of home brew is that it always has a thin layer of yeast at the bottom of the bottle. So always pour a home-brew into a glass or you’ll stir up that yeast and get a mouthful of tang.

Breweries are good and fascinating places to visit. The mammoth facilities of Busch Gardens are shining brew cathedrals. The small Boulder Beer brewery in Colorado was much homier. Started by two college professors in their garage, the micro-brewery with its copper brew kettles, grew into one of the early micro success brews. I happened to stay at a motel that housed some of the brewery construction crew, who were paid part in dollars and part in beer. And they paid their motel bills with beer, leaving the owner with a basement full of Boulder beer.

So, here’s to beer and beer drinkers - Live long and enjoy this gift of life. And, for Heaven’s Sake, enjoy whatever you enjoy. CHEERS !!!