Thoughts On Why Beer Compels Us

At the Eastern Standard last weekend, I got in this conversation about local beer with Tyler (as in, Tyler “The Second Glass” Balliet - that’s him, there on the left with the winning smile). The Standard might very well be the ultimate cocktail bar in the city, but their beer list isn’t exactly inspiring any jealousy. A couple Harpoons on tap, Miller Lite, and Czechvar. That last option inspired this:

“I drink a lot of Czechvar here,” Tyler told me - the Standard’s right down the street from his house.

“Really? Czechvar,” I said. Not that there’s anything wrong with Czechvar, but given the option… Harpoon every time.

“You gotta understand,” Tyler said, “I’m from Wisconsin - I grew up, there’s breweries all over the place. There was a brewery across the street from my preschool. And we’re talking legit breweries, tiny little places, run by like an old biker and his daughter or something. Then I move to Boston, what’s here? Harpoon? Sam? I mean, they’re cool, but they’re not really… I don’t know.”

And I follow. I dig on Harpoon - the Leviathans are some fascinating, well-thought-out beers; I dig on Sam - their Summer’s one of my favorites and plus, how can you not respect the pioneers? But Tyler’s distinction is more than fair. These aren’t local, hometown breweries any more. They’re national now, players in a larger game and God bless ‘em for it, that’s the point, to grow. I’m proud to say Boston’s home to two forerunners in the craft world… but it doesn’t change the fact that drinking on either one of them isn’t a uniquely personal experience anymore. “And what else is there, really?” Tyler said, gesturing at me with his glass. “Everything else is out west, or in NH, or somewhere. Where’s the neighborhood brewery?”

Ah, the neighborhood brewery… The whole concept lies at the heart of what fascinates me most about beer, really. Tyler nailed it right on; he gets it. Yeah, yeah, the flavor profile - you go on, if you want, talk about the hops profile, about the quality of the head, about ABVs and IBUs and whether or not it compares to other IPAs or IRSs or what-have-you - and that’s cool. That’s what makes it so much fun to drink and think about and I talk about all that, too. But what makes beer truly compelling (and by beer here, I mean the concept of, I mean BEER, all caps) is the story behind every bottle you crack. Dig it:

All across the map, these breweries pop up,  helmed by brewers (or brewesses(?)) backed by nothing but their own faith in their craft, persisting on sheer will and determination, curled fists shaking defiantly at the false idol that is watered-down macros… and they’re succeeding at their revolution, gaining ground every day. And why? Because of these communities that pop up around them that have the same faith in the brews as the brewers themselves. They support them to the bitter end. Say what you want about Wall Street and foreign conflicts and the electoral college; the heart of America lives and breathes in that kind of local pride, in a dedicated community rallying behind, believing in, the little guy and the little guy’s dream.

(of course, it helps when the little guy’s dream gets you drunk and tastes fantastic)

I don’t know any other culture quite like it, so nationally pervasive, but based on this fierce regional loyalty. There’s sports, I know, but that loyalty strikes me as divisive - Sooners fans knifing Longhorn fans, bar-fights in Chicago kicked off by kids in Cardinals hats. It ain’t like that here. I got turned on to Victory by my Philly friend; I turned him on to Berkshire. Because listen: all these breweries everywhere, with all their commonalities and all their distinctions, with all the fire of their hometown crowd… they’re all making beer, they’re all making BEER. And as a culture, we get that. We’re down to share and get shared at.

dJp

Tags: beer, czechvar, local
Category: The Beer Blog | Comments (0)