Beer: A Love Story

I was going to write this entry last night, but I settled onto the sofa with my MacBook and a bottle of Ommegang Abbey Ale and things quickly went downhill. Neil started playing New Pornographers songs on the guitar and before long I was tipsy and pretending to be Neko Case and/or Kathryn Calder. (This has nothing to do with food or beer, but do yourself a favor and check out the New Pornographers if you haven't already. They are my most favorite band.)

So, beer. My childhood experience with it is probably similar to many people's; at some point I tasted some that my dad was drinking and didn't like it. I didn't like the way it tasted, and I didn't like the way it smelled. Yuck.

My first actual beer-drinking experiences were as follows:

Age 16 - Hanging out with a group of older people, trying to impress a guy. The Bud Light was flowing. I drank several. They were gross, but I was caught up in the fun of the evening and didn't care. Still, I couldn't imagine why so many people liked beer. It seemed like something to be tolerated rather than enjoyed.

Age 17 - Ex-boyfriend threw a party over spring break. I was sad about our break-up and drowned my sorrows in a couple wine coolers. A Bud Light followed. Still gross.

Age 18 - Boyfriend liked Heineken. I tried it. Didn't like it.

And so-on. (Are you noticing this theme of boyfriends and beer? Yeah, me too.) Around the age of 22 or so a friend (a female friend!) introduced me to lambic, which I loved. I didn't really count that as beer, though. It was just fruity and fizzy and delicious. Beer was bitter and full of other strange flavors that did not please my palate.

And then along came Neil. And with him came Blue Moon. I tried it... and I liked it! Not long after that I went out with a group of my grad school classmates and it was decided that we should order a pitcher of Blue Moon. What luck! They'd chosen the one beer I liked! Still, I found that an entire glass of the stuff was a little much.

I kept drinking Blue Moon and soon realized that a big glass of it and an order of chicken wings was one of the best things in the world. Then I started branching out. I liked Harp. I liked Bass, but not as much. I liked Rolling Rock. I liked Negra Modelo. At some point I tasted Neil's La Fin du Monde, which totally rocked my world.

In Montreal we drank Boreale (and were crestfallen when we realized it's not available in the US). In Philadelphia (and, as it turned out, in Gulf Shores) we drank Yuengling. I chose beer based on recommendations and based on the label and based on the name. I got unintentionally wasted on Aventinus at the Nachbar. I came home from a party wearing the little plastic rams that come with Celebrator Doppelbock. I squealed in delight at a grad student gathering when I saw that the chair of my department had stocked her fridge with BBC's Dark Star Porter. I got gently teased just a few weeks ago for walking around a party drinking Rogue's Shakespeare Stout out of its 22-ounce bottle. I fell in love with Left Hand's Milk Stout while dining at Maido. Beer is all around. If I'm at a party, dining in a restaurant, or eating dinner at home, I am more than likely drinking a beer. If I go into ValuMarket for something other than beer, I often leave with beer anyway. (Have you seen their beer selection? If not, go! Right now!)

There's been a spate of talk over at Louisville HotBytes lately about beer, including a heated discussion about why fine restaurants often put more care into their wine list than their beer list. This got me thinking about beer vs wine in general and how I ended up being so enthralled with the former, often to the neglect of the latter. I certainly love wine, and I loved it before I loved beer, but somehow I'm just not as into it. I daresay I find beer more exciting.

Tell me, Blog Tartare readers, what are your favorite beers? What should I try? I favor porters and stouts but I'll try anything once. (Except maybe IPAs. I seem to dislike them pretty consistently.)