Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I AM A BEER SNOB.
I’m not talking drinking a Newcastle, or sipping on a glass of Guiness. I mean developing a habit of “drinking those $9 beers that come with their own cork” kind of snob. The kind with the higher alcohol content. The ones you can only find when you take a trip to your local BevMo. Before I get ahead of myself, I need to make it clear I don’t have a beer problem. Im not on the verge of becoming an alcoholic. I just have a serious taste for good beers. And I have my boyfriend to blame.
I remember the days when my stepmom used to come home and literally crave a cold beer after a long, hot day. I was also underage at the time, and though beer smelled like armpit. Flash forward a few years, when I came to realize:
A – beer is cheaper
B – beer wasn’t so bad after all
I used to be a bud light girl. Nothing tasted better to me than a cold, refreshing bud light. But then I met the boy, who introduced me to the tasty Newcastle. A little heavier than my norm, and it took some getting used to, but then I realized “Lauren likes it!” And then came a few guinesses, which I called dessert beer because it was so thick, sweet and creamy to me – at the time. I was blind to the fact that he knew what he was doing. He was slowly turning his girlfriend into someone who loves a good, pretentious beer. Gone are the days of drinking “yard work beer.” My palette craved the good stuff, the craft beer, the stuffy, snobby, German imports. La Fin Du Monde, Rogue, Lagunitas, Stone Arrogant Bastard. Suddenly the 45 minutes spent at BevMo that used to test my patience became an exciting afternoon activity. What can we try today? Which labels do I like the most? Should I go for something flavored, or stick with a chocolate porter –oh the chocolate porter. With its creamy aftertaste, its hints of actual chocolate. What’s a girl to do!
One night I opened the beer fridge and only saw 2 bottles of Guiness and a Keystone Light, and I actually made a sour face. I popped open the Guiness, filled my frosty glass and took a sip – and it tasted like water. The beer I had once thought was rich and creamy just a few months earlier was now so mundane. It was official. I was a snob.
I will still look at a six pack of Bud and remember fondly the times we had together (and how it was easier on my wallet). And I’m sure there will come a hot, sweaty day where a bud is the only thing to drink, because it’s as close to water as you can get. But nothing makes this girl happier than a beer that requires uncorking. And if I’m going to be a snob about something, beer is the way to go.