Beer has officially arrived in the United States of America. Sure, this may sound like a strange thing to say in 2009, but it’s true. Today, Americans are living in a time of unfettered access to some of the most interesting beers in history, some of the greatest brewpubs ever opened, and an ever-changing market that is pushing the world of beer in radically different directions.
The best thing about extreme beer and craft brewing: it’s a world of taste, variance, and unbelievable detail, all available to anyone willing. There are no cost restrictions, as most beer remains inexpensive. You can drink what is (or was) considered the best beer in the world, the Westvleteren 12 Abt, for under $20. Because it’s beer, it’s not about aging, so there are no cellars full of vintage brews you’ll never get access too–the finest, by necessity, is the newest.
And finally, because so many people drink beer as a casual pursuit in itself, at pubs and at home, it’s remarkably easy to ramp up one’s appreciation of the stuff. There are no courses you need to take, no heavy certification that will sap your money and take all your time.
Of all the 21st-century ‘guy’ things you might consciously choose to get into as a hobby or pursuit, beer is one of the most highly rewarding. Cheaper than wine, easier than cooking, bigger than cheese, more fun than poker, more legal than cuban cigars… the list goes on.
So, where to start? First, for a lay of the land, you can’t get better than Burkhard Bilger’s recent essay in the New Yorker, called A Better Brew. While reviewing the movement from above, he also zooms in upon Sam Calagione and his Dogfish Head Brewery, one of the shining stars of new American beer. He’s been brewing for 13 years, and draws upon ancient (and often strange) traditions when deciding how to form his next beer. Bilger also, like every New Yorker writer worth his/her salt, gives us a series of insights on the history of American beer:
America used to be full of odd beers. In 1873, the country had some four thousand breweries, working in dozens of regional and ethnic styles. Brooklyn alone had nearly fifty. Beer was not only refreshing but nutritious, it was said—a “valuable substitute for vegetables,” as a member of the United States Sanitary Commission put it during the Civil War.
Ah, the famous beer-for-vegetables substitute. Very hard to pull off properly. 150 years ago, of course, people were drinking a hell of a lot more alcohol per person than they do today. Sure, we’ve got binge drinking (ah, damn, they had that too), but the 1800s had all-day, on-the-job drinking. Downing a pint of gin at lunch. Throwing back two strong ones to get you through the afternoon.
Besides a resurgency in the 1960s (unless Mad Men is lying to me), America has always had a conflicted relationship with alcohol. Puritan roots, I say. That’s my answer for every complex question about American history, really. Puritan roots.
But back to beer: why exactly was there such a dark age in American brewing? Why, for years, was beer dominated by large-scale brewers, with dozens upon dozens of bars only serving one main brand? The answer is industrialization. The same reason why bakeries, butchers, and fruit & vegetable stores disappeared across the US between the 1940s and 1960s is the same reason beer became homogeneous, invariable, boring.
Then came Prohibition, followed hard by industrialization. Beer went from barrel to bottle and from saloon to home refrigerator, and only the largest companies could afford to manufacture and distribute it. A generation raised on Coca-Cola had a hard time readjusting to beer’s bitterness, and brewers diluted their recipes accordingly. In 1953, Miller High Life was dismissed by one competitor as a beer for “women and beginners.” Within a decade, most other beers were just as flavorless.
Thankfully, that’s no longer the case. After finishing the article and calming your ever-increasing desire for a delicious beer, where can you go for more? Here are a few places to start your odyssey into a land of completely accessible snobbishness (the best and most fun kind, of course):
Your first stop. Great forums, frequent updates, passionate users.
Saw a strange beer on offer in an even stranger brewpub? Find opinions on it here, and leave your own.
Esquire.com’s Best Bars in America
A strong emphasis on bars offering quality beers means this list won’t let you down.
Still need more? Check out this documentary called American Beer, filmed by the guys who later opened Brooklyn’s famous Barcade.
And now, go, drink!
February 6th, 2009 at 2:44 am
B.O.S.T.A.