This month, right as we gear up for arguably one of Aspen’s most see-and-be-seen-among-high-society events (the Food & Wine Classic, of course), I opted to stray from the theme and take a break from waxing poetic about esoteric cocktail ingredients. I’d like to tell the whole world about a friend of mine, this little light of mine. I see it fitting to let it shine. I’m fixing to take y’all back to some better times, I’m gonna talk about light beer if y’all don’t mind. Man, do I miss the old Kanye.
Whenever I start writing this column, typically about 12 hours before the deadline (thanks a lot, college study habits), my mind inevitably drifts to the fact that someone — probably someone a lot smarter than me — is going to be reading this. At which point I generally stop, drop, shut my computer down and pour a couple shots. RIP DMX. Paraphrasing two controversial rappers in as many paragraphs is a different kind of waxing poetic, but poetry all the same.
And so this month, I write about my favorite beverage — light beer — and why you need to be drinking more like me and less like yourself. Do you know how satisfying and fun it is to drink like someone else? Back in the day, a Wednesday, I was young and at the airport. This dehydrated husk of a man was drinking Campari and soda. I’d never tasted one — much less heard of Campari — at this stage of my drinking career, so needless to say this was my “cool guy” drink of choice for the next few months. Until I realized that girls my age were not only unimpressed, they thought I was drinking a shirley temple.
After watching this guy hammer back five of them in about 30 minutes, he got up and said, “Well, time to fly these people across the pond.” He was a pilot. I’m pretty sure he was joking, but I found myself wondering, should I model the rest of my life after this man, or perhaps find him a babysitter? Maybe a moral compass?
Shortly after, I started working at a brewery and I went through a lengthy IPA (it’s not a phase, mom!) phase. These days, I like an IPA as much as the next guy — if the next guy is 65 and only drinks Bud Heavy.
I know people are hot and bothered about hazys and saying things like, “DUDE, if there’s not at least 15 different strains of hops, there’s just no flavor.” I can appreciate the dedication and craft that goes into producing these complex, rich, flavorful beers, especially the breweries taking it to the next level with their quality and consistency (shout-outs to 4 Noses, Outer Range and Casey, to name but a few.) I respect people who can hammer back a six pack of IPAs — and I hate to yuck someone else’s yum — but more and more I feel like IPAs are not for me, dog. These days, I’m in for a taste. Or maybe half of one.
Here’s a fun word that might ruin some micro (and some macro) brews for you: diacetyl. It’s one of the most common imperfections, other than oxidation, in beer.
We perceive the evidence of oxidation as off-putting stale notes that are leathery and papery — not unlike wet cardboard. This can occur at any stage of the brewing process, from initial fermentation all the way up to bottle aging. Chances are you’ve had an oxidized beer and it was not good.
Diacetyl, on the other hand, can be much trickier to control. When yeast ferments beer, it produces over 500 different compounds that give beer its flavor and aroma.
This particular compound gives a buttery, butterscotch-like flavor to beer. Factors that influence the diacetyl level in beer are fermentation temperature, aeration, bacterial contamination and the yeast strain. Diacetyl levels can vary during the course of fermentation and maturation. Chances are you’ve had a diacetyl beer, and it was not good.
So next time your beer tastes a little funky, now you know why. You’re still stuck with a subpar beverage, but the more you know…
The lesson: be like me, drink more Hi Life. Cheap light beer will always be my favorite; there’s a certain nostalgia attached to them, probably stemming from high school or my first beer, an ice-cold Bud Light. They are also just plain refreshing.
Speaking of ice-cold and refreshing, this week I’m drinking anything and everything on tap at Wienerstube in Willits. I love being late to the party on a lot of things. Music in particular, movies in general and always restaurants. This place is awesome.
Give me all the lagers, kolch(es?) and hefeweizens. And they come in liters — American readers, that’s like 2.5 Coors Lights. Get the jager schnitzel, and don’t worry if you mispronounce Helles Lager like an idiot. The Serbians will not make fun of you. In fact, they may buy you a shot.
Send your questions, comments or concerns to @elpoirier@gmail.com. It’s a strange time in restaurants and most places are understaffed. Be nice to your servers and bartenders, even if it seems like they suck.