A friend of mine posted a list of the Top Fifty Beers as given by a major hops-n-barley publication. To which I replied:

My problem is that these beers are all big. Not just that they’re Big Microbrew (YES), but that the beers themselves are just dimensionally large. Big. Big hops. Big malts. Big bodied. Big flavored. Zaftig. Buxom. What I mean to say is THESE BEERS HAVE GIANT BREASTS.

And not, y’know, like I’m getting down on chestiness here. But it’s a skew. This list was written by people who like really big, intense beers. So that’s what’s represented.

But not all beers have to enter the room 30 seconds before their faces!

In wine-snobbin’, this was The Problem of the Blind Tasting. Or really, of any comparative tasting. If you have thirty wines in a row, whichever one is the most potently flavored is the one that’ll stand out. Lightly-flavored wines will get dwarfed by it. Hell, you won’t even be able to *taste* a light norther Burgundy after having a D-cup Rhone or silicon-enhanced Napa Cab.

Wines aren’t meant to be drank comparatively. When you go to a bar, when you sit down to drink, you don’t have one sip from thirty different glasses. You have a glass. You drink a beer. You may drink three beers. You may drink more! You may drink it with some food. You may drink it in the nude. You may drink it here or there. It’s your beer; drink it anywhere!

Can you imagine sitting down and drinking three Dogfish 120s? Can you imagine making a nice meal and having it go well with a Pliny? Maybe if you made steak au poivre or, I don’t know, flash-roasted an entire herd of bison in a blast furnace. But if you’re having a chard quiche for dinner, you don’t want something that tastes like it’s had six ounces of BC ganja soaking in it for a fortnight. If you’re having rice and veggies you don’t want something that’s seen more oak than a dendrophile. Even if you’re having a hearty meal you might want something you can actually *drink*. Not sip and swirl and stare off into the distance while your beard grows longer and your shirt magically sprouts embroidered birds. Actually DRINK. Like a BEVERAGE you use to QUENCH your THIRST.

Don’t believe the swimsuit issue: FLAT-CHESTED WOMEN ARE SEXY TOO.

So I’m not saying PBR’s the way to go. Defend the masses? MOI? But sometimes a dubbel is preferable to a tripel. Sometimes coriander and cardamom aren’t as nice as really well-roasted barley. And sometimes wild fermentation tastes like cat piss. Actually, most of the time.

Dammit, now I’m thirsty.


~ by davekov on 27 June 2012.

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