Though the process of brewing is a science, creating good beer is an art. The craft-brewer is an artisan as well as a practical scientist. One alter-ego cannot survive without the other. Sure, there are many scientifically perfect beers, brewed with little or no creativity, like the typical American or European macro-lagers. These flavor challenged beers are designed to be accepted into our mouth like water, with just enough flavor to disguise the alcohol, allowing us to ingest large volumes seemingly without consequence. This reminds me of saying on a favorite T-shirt owned by the recently deceased beer writer Michael Jackson; “Beer– If you can’t taste it, why bother?”

“Tasting” requires some conscious effort on our part. For instance, when biting into a wonderful slice of pizza Margherita at Lola’s, one can pick out the subtle balance between the acidity of the tomato, the balancing effect of the cheese, the bready crust and the gentle “tickling” of the brain offered by the garlic and basil. Without these balancing elements, the pizza wouldn’t be as pleasing. Why would we want anything less?

But less is exactly what you get when you grab that ice-cold can of Bud-light and pour it down your throat! The macro-beer boys design a beer by survey and market analysis, then they try to sell you feeling or a lifestyle. They use made-up brewing language like “ice brewed”– what the heck is that? They take the “milquetoast” route instead of trying to create a flavorful product that would sell, nonetheless. (More Harvard than hops!)

Craft beer is “crafted” to taste like something. (more…)

See John Brown’s companion post at his “WineBoy” blog on picking the best wines for a turkey feast. 

All of us have beer to thank for Thanksgiving. Yes, you read that right! If it were not for man’s love of beer, the first Thanksgiving (as we know it) would have never even taken place. When the Mayflower set sail for the “New World,” among its most important cargo were the kegs of ale that were to sustain passenger and crew until they reached a suitable spot near northern Virginia. (The religiously fundamental Pilgrims saw no evil in a pint of ale, so we can’t blame them for the twisted views held by today’s neo-prohibitionists)

I guess they really liked whatever was on tap because they quickly ran out of it. By the time they stopped near Plymouth Rock to gather firewood, the ship’s log recorded the depth of their despair: “We could not now take time for further search or consideration, our victuals being much spent, especially our beere…” The decision was made to call Plymouth Rock home for the time being.

We all know the rest of the story about the harsh winter and how the local natives provided the Pilgrims with sustenance to get them through until spring. The settlers toiled through the spring and summer (brewing maybe?) and then they reaped a glorious harvest. The pilgrims then invited the natives to join them in a celebration of thanks for the bounty and for the freedoms God had bestowed upon them.

Not to whine about wine (as I am oft accused), but why can’t one of the leading foodie magazines grow some gizzards and show a cover picture of Thanksgiving’s bountiful table with the correct beverage for once? One would have to be a real turkey to believe that the drink at the first Thanksgiving was anything other than beer! This brings me to the point of “Flippin the Bird” (read that anyway you like…) (more…)

This past week the “Beers To You” crew took to the road to deliver the “Real Beer” message. Fellow Charleston brewer Jeff Rabatin and I gave two presentations on the complexities of the world’s oldest beverage. The first presentation took place Tuesday evening at the Charleston Women’s Club. We were invited to speak at a function attended by several members of Charleston’s excellent wine club “Les Amis du Vin.” I’d say at least 35 to 40 people attended. There was excellent food and — dare I say — excellent hand-crafted beer supplied by Jeff and myself. We were very pleased that the interest level was so high and that so many folks engaged us with what seemed like hundreds of questions. I hope we are invited back to do it again. (more…)

My wife and I, along with a group of friends stopped by The Vault on Saturday evening. It was my wife’s birthday and she wanted a good cocktail, and a few of the others had never been to the Vault. The place was packed with a wide range of characters, both young and old. Admittedly, it’s not my kind of place and it’s still a “poser bar,” but a very nice one.

I was kind of annoyed that a bouncer asked me to remove my “ballcap.” I shot back that it wasn’t a ballcap it was actually a (dare I say “stylish”) Stetson Cuffley cap… He said: “Whatever, it needs to come off.” (Why???) I probably would have taken it off eventually anyway, but it’s just annoying to be treated like some heathen, especially when I am a paying customer. They should spend less time worrying about what’s on my head and more time assuring a head on the $6 beers they serve.

I will have to say that my beer experience this night was very different from my first visit. We still had to ask for non-frosted glasses for our beer, but to my delight we were served well poured ales in a traditional English “Nonick” Imperial-Pint glass. Now that’s more like it…

(Too bad I wasn’t able to “strike a pose” with English Pint in hand and English cap on head. Must not fit The Vault’s idea of trendy and stylish.)

ED. NOTE: We’ve got a blogfecta (blog + trifecata) of posts on the dining/drinking experience. After reading this one, check out  food blogger Brooke Brown’s plaintive cry about servers manhandling the glassware. and WineBoy weighs in with some essential advice for gourmet winos: which wineglass with which wine?

I know… It sounds more like the title for an article that should have been posted last week while we were still in the Halloween spirit. Unfortunately, I was not reminded of the “Legend of the Headless Dead Guy” until last Friday.

It seemed like a normal Friday evening in Charleston. Folks were out on the town for dinner and happy hour was in full swing at most of the cafes and bars in the fair city. My wife and I headed for Soho’s at the Capitol Market for a drink and dinner. We realized that we had not been there in over a year and were long overdue for a visit.

As usual on a Friday, the place was busy and bustling, so we went to the bar for a drink while we waited for a table. I noticed two beers on tap, Magic Hat #9 and Rogue’s Dead Guy Ale. I ordered a Dead Guy in a non-frosted glass. The bartender quipped that they only had frosted beer glasses so I suggested that he simply rinse one so as to un-frost it. He seemed annoyed but he complied with my request.

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