On Purists
I recognize this text from somewhere… is it a children’s book? Alice in Wonderland? ‘Pineapple Daydream’, ‘Tiny Chicken’, ‘Citra Galaxy’. Oh no – it’s the menu board at my local craft brewery.
It’s a sensory assault as soon as I step foot inside the door - industrial-chic stools, parents’-basement-meets-frat-house décor, Carhartt draped neckbeards, Lumineers radio, dogs wearing beanies. As I navigate my way to the bar my mind remains fixed on one thing – which one of these fairytale-inspired concoctions will taste the least offensive.
My journey through microbrew Narnia concludes and I arrive at the bar rail. Morale is low - I haven’t made much progress on decoding the menu.
The barkeep knows the drill… I stand there silent and confused, they counter with an impatient stare (rightfully). After a few moments, I give in to the pressure and relay my order … “Tweedledumpster Water, please.”
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Many of the characters you’d find in a setting like the one I described above consider themselves ‘beer purists’ - they know beer and will only consume the highest quality stuff - small batch ingredients, detailed flavor profiles, “good vibes”… you know - the types of buzz words you see on Food Network and bumper stickers. What is a purist, though? A person who adheres to tradition, right? Let’s look at the tape.
The origins of beer date back thousands of years to modern day Iran. Ancient Egyptian laborers were given rations of beer for their work. One of the earliest beer recipes that we know of was preserved in song, not text, to make memorization easier for illiterate workers. It is popularly believed that in the Middle Ages, peasants drank beer because it was cleaner than the water that they had access to and provided nutritional benefits (hydration, quick calories… the original South Beach diet). The Industrial Revolution’s many advancements streamlined beermaking, keeping it cheap, accessible, and distributable. None of the above mentioned batches were delicately sourced. I can’t imagine much thought was given to the flavor profile of the ancient Egyptian lagers.
The bottom line is that beer, like many consumables, was born out of necessity by and for the working person - the everyman. Only recently have some corridors of the beer drinking world become prohibitive for the everyman.
Today’s microbreweries charge you an arm and a leg for their offerings and your ‘beer purist’ friend will scold you for not knowing the artisan barley farmer’s sister’s dog’s name. Why go for a no-frills pint in a low-maintenance pub when you instead could go to a microbrewery and be educated by the ‘purist’ crowd as you, like me, struggle to not wince after each sip. Is that a neckbeard hair at the bottom of your glass?
Enough about them, let’s talk about me. I like beer. I don’t care what kind it is, who made it, or what its daddy does for work. I just want a cold one. I don’t want to look far and wide for it. I want to be able to afford it. I like to think that I consume beer the way it was meant to be consumed - the way the the guys who built the pyramids drank it - cheap, accessible, cold. So – who’s the purist after all?
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I talk my shit but the bottom line is this – support your local haunt. The people who work there are probably good people who have a genuine interest in introducing you to (what they perceive to be) fresh tastes and experiences. I’ve been around the microbrewery block a time or two and I’m here to tell you that it isn’t for me. And that’s okay – sometimes it’s better to support things from a distance.
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The best pub in the world is your local pub. The best beer in the world is a cold one.