by Ethan Johnson
September 16, 2008

Prior to September 13, 2008, I was not a beer drinker. Every beer tasted the same to me: Bitter and sharp. Naturally, for my sins (or zins), I landed a job at a local beer and wine store. I had been harboring a fantasy of one day working part time at a wine shop, but that opportunity never materialized. Long story short, I interviewed for a fresh opening at this local chain and made the cut. My initial excitement at landing the job was tempered by two unavoidable facts:

1. I really don't know jack about beer. (I told the owners that up front, but they wanted my wine acumen among other skills.)
2. The store sells about 15:1 beer to wine. On a good wine-buying day. (The owners told me that up front, but I figured I could adapt.)

Hoo boy.

I got hired and started working on the same day (hooray for small business!). Which meant I had an employee discount to play with from day one. I talked to a co-worker about beer, and what a beer n00b like me should experiment with. The store offers a "pick six" promotion where you can select random beers and make your own sampler pack. I loaded up a carrier and tried one randomly at home. First up: Shiner Munich Style Helles Lager "99".

Fatal error: I drank it right out of the bottle. Because that's what beer drinkers do, right? And I hate beer, because it all tastes the same: Bitter and hoppy.

Whoops! No, As my next co-worker (who turned me on to the job opening) explained, you don't "just" drink beer out of the bottle. Yes, lesser beer companies market the product as "pop the top and guzzle", but no, you need a glass. And things get wine-ish in that you need the right glass. I thought that was flaming bullshit, but apparently there is some truth to it. My wine adventures have revealed that some of the specialized glass stuff reaches golf equipment proportions, where you probably could play a reasonably competent game with "just" a putter and a driver, but no, you need 49 specialized clubs (just for duffing), special clothing, a pressurized golf bag, titanium shafts, no - graphite - no, copper, and on and on. Beer glasses are more specialized than simply the beer mug or the pilsner glass. There is stemware for beer. My, the things you learn.

So yeah, I hated this beer and wrote it off as tasting as nasty as every other beer I tried and hated. But I'll have to give it another try, correctly.

My next attempt at competent beer appreciation was a bottle of Bridgeport Brewing Company Black Strap Stout. My concerned co-worker wondered why I was diving right in to that stuff if I wasn't sure I could handle a lager. For the same reason that I got into drinking red wine by drinking Petite Sirah: I'm Mister Impossible. If it's the well-trod path, assume I'm lying in the ditch beside it. If it's Mount Everest, assume I'm pausing at the summit.

I decided to apply my wine experience to this mug of beer. Yes, I used a "stout" glass that we happened to have available. I let the foam subside a little, then I sniffed the aroma. Chocolatey! Then I took a small sip. A blend of coffee grounds and chocolate shavings. Very smooth. I nursed the drink for a while, and while I am not a coffee fan (it tasted like drinking cold coffee after a while) it was an interesting experience. Enough so that I bought another loose bottle today to have Mar taste-test.

I bought a used book about beer appreciation this weekend that had me tearing up somewhere in the first chapter. Normally, I glance askance at the so-called "beer culture" and tend to write any attempts at classing up beer as a flimsy excuse for doing beer bongs. No, beer has a lot more going for it than Miller and Bud would have you believe. As an aside, check out Miller and Bud advertising sometime and pay attention. When they make comparisons, they compare to each other. This is arguably a market share squabble, but really, they can't make taste comparisons to smaller breweries because as this dated but good book says, smaller breweries rescued "taste" from the big guys.

Okay: I was tearing up because the author so eloquently explained what we're missing by not drinking beer. Not drinking, appreciating. I'm totally guilty of thinking of beer as a drink that is slogged down quickly and often. That's the piss-water beer effect. No, as I thought wine drinking taught me, but didn't, many things need to be savored and appreciated rather than done away with quickly. We can scarf down our meals, or take the time to notice how everything tastes, and imagine other combinations. We can speed down the highway trying to keep appointments on time, or we can take walks or ride a bicycle to reclaim the appreciation of a cool breeze or the smell of fresh-cut grass. And we can glug down beers straight out of the bottle, or take the time to pour them into a proper glass and take the time to study its character.

The analogy that struck me about drinking beer straight out of the bottle is like drinking wine right out of the bottle. Most of us would never dream of doing this. And if we did it, we'd miss out on the color and the aromas, which sets up the taste. Since the taste is compressed and stifled, the finish isn't smooth and satisfying, but harsh and unenjoyable. So yeah, I've been doing beer (and myself) a grave injustice. This series hopes to rectify these mistakes, and study the world (and business) of beer.

Tonight, I popped open a Shiner Hefeweizen. I had been reading about wheat beers, and the combination of wheat, lemon zest, and honey on the label was a compelling invitation for someone who doesn't like bitter, hoppy beer. Or I don't think I do.

Indeed, while I went right to the drinking part (oops) but did enjoy the amber, honeyed color of the beer fizzing in the glass, the mouth feel was something like biting into a marshmallow. Or maybe like Mar's Cool-Whip frosting on a cake. Very smooth, not bitter, not overly sweet or honeyed. Unfortunately, it sat too long in the glass and warmed up to the point of having to dump out the final fourth, but I enjoyed the 3/4 glass I tried. Definitely one to try again.

One thing you miss out on by glugging out of the bottle: The head on this beer was 3 inches thick. I think whipped cream is flat by comparison.

I am not saying this to be a suck-up new employee: This local chain I work for has a killer beer selection. I never knew so many existed, and even then, there are others that they don't have ready access to. I think beer shares some marketing issues with wine, in that the microbreweries all try to get too clever by half and leave the casual shopper wondering WTF kind of beer it really is. More on that story in another installment.

I'm not giving up on wine. I'm adding another component to the study and responsible enjoyment of alcoholic beverages. As a process-minded person, I am fascinated by this new world (to me) and am trying to cram as much initial knowledge of the subject just so I can competently try to assist customers. Beer and wine appreciation, if anything, can bolster each other rather than be at odds.

Now is a great time to remind new readers to review my food and drink ethics statement. <EM>

(The Adventures in Beer index may be found here.)