As some may have already noticed, my presence on lovegoodbeer.com over the past few weeks has slowly faded. I feel I owe a bit of an apology for this neglect – could this negligence on my behalf be considered alcohol abuse?
Part of this is due to a new job – they tend to take up a good portion of time. I have a hard time finding inspiration to blog after spending all day sitting in front of a computer editing and drafting business communication pieces. This is not a valid excuse – most of us either have a job or would like to have one. Once I have settled in a little more at my current work I will post on a regular basis once again.
The other reason for my diminishing online presence, and perhaps the largest reason, is a genuine fear of slowly turning into a beer snob. I have a tremendous respect and passion for beer and therefore want to always portray beer as simply just beer. Beer is an incredibly complex drink with a long history which is intertwined with the development of modern human civilization – but to most it is just beer and I see no problem with that. This blog was started because Chris and I both love beer. We wanted an opportunity to learn more about beer and share our passion for this tasty beverage with others. Over the course of the past few months I have learned that beer is an inclusive drink, and it should always be that way.
Take for example my recent experience in California’s Napa Valley – I also love good wine. My wife and I purchased a five dollar discount-shelf wine country guide book in San Francisco this past summer and took to the wind in our rented Toyota Echo. The guide book turned out to be less useful than we had hoped, I got what I payed for I suppose. With so many wineries to see in only two days we needed to develop a strategy. We decide to visit wineries with the best sounding names – this seemed logical to me. After visiting our first winery, we were told by the snooty wine tasting woman that perhaps we should try a different road to travel from vineyard to vineyard on because the area we were in was “too exclusive”. And this was after we paid $20 for a sip of over-hyped wine. This put a damper on the afternoon – no one wants to be excluded. Wine should never be an exclusive drink, but as demonstrated above, often times it is.
Wine and beer share similar histories; many ancient civilizations consumed large amounts of either beer or wine and they all recognized the ability of these two beverages to nourish and bring pleasure. Wine and beer helped turn survival from a daily struggle into a joyful celebration. Wine became a drink for the elite when the ancient Greeks mastered viticulture and beer was a left as a drink for the barbarians to the north. Only the wealthy could afford good wine and suddenly wine became an exclusive pleasure reserved only for middle to upper class citizens. To this day Northern Europe produces beer and Southern Europe produces wine. Wine is still the drink of choice for society’s elite and beer is still for the working class citizens. I am generalizing a lot here – I am sure many wealthy people love beer and vice versa.
The attitude that “real ale” must be preservative free, naturally carbonated, and poured from a sediment heavy bottle or cask does not agree with me. I mean no disrespect to CAMRA, I am a proud card carrying member, but this concept of real beer seems inaccurate. This concept of real ale implies that most of my friends do not enjoy real beer and that when I go out for lunch with my new work colleagues I am not drinking real beer. Real ale may be brewed following traditional recipes and techniques, but I believe these recipes are somewhat off the mark. This new concept of real ale seems somewhat exclusive – the attitude that inclusive macro-brewed beer is not real, is just plain wrong.
If beer tastes good, provides nourishment and brings joy to the drinker, than it is real beer. Everything from premium craft beer to light bohemian macro-brewed lager is real beer.
Erik
I wouldn’t confuse Real Ale with exclusivity, Erik. I think you are missing the point of what CAMRA stands for. Also realize that CAMRA BC is not the same as CAMRA UK. Canada is a nation of immigrants from countries encompassing multiple brewing traditions. Therefore, we embrace these as well. A well-crafted lager is certainly something to be celebrated.
Getting back to what CAMRA stands for, I liken it to the Slow Food Movement. Both evolved out of a deep concern over the steady erosion of time-honoured traditions. In their place, we have been offered sanitized industrialized products from companies whose sole purpose is maximizing profits. If the cost of inputs can be cut and the final product made sufficiently palatable to the consumer, then that will be the course of action taken. Ultimately, quality will always be sacrificed and variety reduced. The natural progression of this process ultimately results in monopoly and monoculture.
Consequently, we have high-gravity, diluted lager made with rice and corn that may be clean and consistent in quality but utterly lacking in soul. We have super-sized fast food full of fats and sugars which have led to an epidemic of obesity, diabetes, and heart disease. All of this in a society obsessed with individualism and consumption, to the point that we are failing to recognize the damaging impact of our collective behaviour.
CAMRA and Slow Food are a response to this deterioration. It’s about setting minimum standards, not unlike the Rheinheitsgebot, although not as confining, I think. We are also about protecting the cultural aspects of food and drink, of which the social interactions have historically formed the foundations of society. The more “modern” life intrudes on our ability to form deep, meaningful relationships with our families, friends, and within our communities, the more we lose our humanity. I think that explains why we have an epidemic of mental health problems while living in a country with such a high amount of material prosperity. Sitting down with one another to eat and drink is a simple but critical social act.
Can a macro lager be real beer? Well, it exists. But as soon as someone explains beer to an exclusive industrial lager imbiber and offers them samples from a myriad of other styles available, this is usually sufficient for them to leave it behind. Now, they are actually thinking about what they are drinking, not just mindlessly tossing back something cold and benign. That’s also what happens when people experience the difference between a Safeway tomato and a local organic heirloom tomato.
To me, a real beer is one that was made naturally by someone with care and time, showing that they gave a damn. I have a much greater appreciation for an Oud Bruin made by Yaletown’s Iain Hill, an IPA by Gary Lohin at Central City, Conrad Gmoser’s Pils at Steamworks, or Derrick Franche’s Texas Brown at Dix because I know they strive to make the best beer they can as long as no one tells them they can’t. I can certainly appreciate an import made equally well, or even better, but the social relationship that contributes to my overall well-being is not there. Our local brewers may not be able to achieve the sanitary consistency of an American Budweiser, but I can live with that. To be fallible is to be human. To have the same thing all the time is dull; one comes to take it for granted. Vive la difference!
Rick, thanks for the great comments. I hope you did not take this post as an attack on CAMRA Vancouver. I think it is great to see a group of people in Vancouver dedicated to developing a local beer culture. My taste buds will always choose a quality craft beer over a macro lager – but that is just my opinion. Many people I know prefer Molson Canadian, Coors Light or Budweiser to craft beer.
I recently read Ambitious Brew by Maureen Ogle. This book is worth a read if you haven’t done so already. I provides great insight into the American brewing industry from its small beginning to present. Maureen argues that rice and corn were more expensive than six row barley in the early 20th century. These ingredients were used not to save money but to create a light tasting beer that Americans preferred. A successful beer is a beer that drinkers enjoy thus Budweiser is successful.
I agree that most macro brew is not made with the same level of care as craft beer. Somewhere along the road large brewers became distracted and turned from brewer to businessmen.
I believe I did not get my point across very well in my blog post. I find it challenging at times to be passionate about beer, without coming across as a beer snob. When out with friends and someone suggests a pitcher of Bud, I don’t want to be the one person saying “no thanks”. At times I may suggest trying something different, but if they prefer light lager who am I to argue with their taste buds.
Perhaps I have missed the point of CAMRA – I don’t want bland beer and I am glad CAMRA Vancouver is activley involved in the pursuit of bringing better beer to Vancouver. However, I disagree that macro beer is not real beer – just because someone does not like it does not make it bad.
Again, thanks for the great feedback.
Cheers – Erik
Worry, not Erik. I didn’t take this post to be an attack on CAMRA. My concern is that, perhaps in despair, you are misunderstanding what CAMRA stands for and the term, Real Ale. If you call an industrial beer that is made with adjuncts, brewed at high gravity and then diluted, filtered multiple times, and pasteurized “real” simply because it physically exists, then you are taking the word too literally. CAMRA’s usage is meant to convey a qualitative difference — meaning made in a traditional manner, unadulterated, unfiltered, unpasteurized, and served from the vessel in which it has fermented. Consider the example of the tomato I gave you; you can taste the difference.
With respect to what is good and bad, that’s something subjective left to an individual. You could call a Budweiser good because it is consistently flawless, which is what you could say about Wonder Bread. I believe there is a lot more to good than simply that, which is why I don’t include a Bud in that category. On the other hand, craft beer isn’t good simply because it is craft beer. If it is infected with diacetyl or DMS, it’s bad.
In determining what is good, it fundamentally comes down to judgment based on a person’s palate and experience. If a person’s sum experience drinking beer is macro light lager, how seriously would you consider their calling something good as compared to someone who has tasted thousands of beers of numerous styles? You would likely take the latter person’s recommendations more seriously.
Nevertheless, I think we need to take into account that people have different palates and that their tastes change over time. Females have different preferences than males, but I think it is more a matter of the path of their progression to embracing a similar range of diversity than being completely different. I find IPA fundamentalists as problematic as light lager fundamentalists — fundamentalists of any kind, really. I don’t think one can make a reasonable argument that one style of beer is better than another, only that you prefer one over another. Ultimately, it comes down to how well it is made. That said, certain styles of beer are more appropriate for a given season or food than others.
I also want to reiterate the point about the corporate dynamic in business. Just because a beer is successful commercially, doesn’t make it objectively good. Consider the eight top-selling brands in BC (http://bcbrews.wordpress.com/2009/02/07/super-bowl-super-duds/). Is it any coincidence that they are also the most heavily advertised? That seven of the eight are lager? The average person is heavily influenced by media. If beer was not advertised or promoted in any way and each person was equally knowledgeable about beer styles, I wonder what the top sellers would be? However, the fewer companies there are dominating an industry, the less choice there will be because only the most profitable products or services will be offered. This is one of the main reasons CAMRA formed in the UK — that tradition and choice were declining.
In terms of your concern about your passion coming across as snobbery, that’s really a different matter. I don’t think the way to address that is by compromising your own personal standards. It is more a matter of what approach you take in educating the uninformed. If you’re with a group of friends and they want to order a pitcher of Bud, you don’t want to ruin the experience by flatly refusing to drink with them. However, when it comes time for you to buy a pitcher, you could say, “How about we try something different?” Of course, you wouldn’t want to shock them with too much flavour. You would want to get something not too far beyond a Bud and gradually work into other styles. If you’re at a brewpub together for the first time, you could suggest getting samplers, which would at least open them up to a range of possibilities beyond what brand of lager to choose.
It’s good that you are concerned about not coming across as a snob, Erik. Beer really is inclusive. You don’t want to turn people off from the possibility of a broader, more fulfilling experience with beer in the company of others. But some people are more open-minded about trying different things than others. With the latter group, you may have to be more patient or just leave them in vaunted ignorance and respect the choice they’ve made. Equally, they should respect yours.
hi, I’m exactly like u but in Malaysia. We don’t have much choice in beer and wine, but we do have a lot of good drinker. If free just drop by my blog, maybe we can exchange post… cheers for beer lover!
I understand what you mean Erik. It is easy to come off as a snob when telling the uninitiated about craft beer, or about the various beer styles that go largely unnoticed in our society. In fact, I’d suggest that some people even relish their snobbery. I can see how others would feel uncomfortable at being told their staple beer isn’t real. I think it is important to be mindful of how our enthusiasm for beer can be interpreted.
Rick, you needn’t worry about Erik compromising his personal standards. Erik does a great job of letting his true passion for beer shine through, largely because he is mindful of how perceived snobbery can dampen beer enlightenment. Erik opened my eyes to the larger world of beer, ditto for many of my friends.
Kennhyn – thanks for stopping by our blog. It is exciting to receive comments from fellow beer lovers halfway around the world.
Rick – I must agree with your tomato analogy. While in California last summer I had a heirloom tomato salad at least once a day. I just can’t go back to out of season tomatoes, and with summer still so far away I’m not sure what I will do.
Perhaps further discussion would be better suited over a beer.
Chris – you are a good man.
Erik, Chris: further discussion over a beer is always welcomed; I’d be happy to meet up.
Sounds like a great excuse to have a beer or two, I am in.