The Private Thoughts Of Maine’s Bartenders

I have no beer in hand. Not I. I have a Manhattan. More than once in a while in the summer – and it still is summer – I like the clink of ice in glass. So it was with some interest that I read an article from Portland Maine’s community web news site, Switch, that a pal had sent me. It was about the best and worst of the working lives of a number of Portland’s finest bartenders. Most of the bartenders seem to work in cocktail places but my pal sent it to give me the gears as he pointed out that a “guy at novare res, the snooty beer bar, says that on a bad day “for me, nothing beats an ice cold miller – the champagne of beers.” Novare Res man also said a number of other things like:

Describe the atmosphere at your bar: Novare Res is a pretty laid back beer bar. Most requested drink: It’s all about the beer. Mmmmmm … beer.
Worst drink to mix: When I worked with a full bar, martinis were always the worst. Best drink for the worst day: For me, nothing beats an ice cold Miller High Life … Champagne of Beers…
Personal drink favorite: There’s a brown ale that we carry at Novare that’s amazing, and I’m a sucker for Miller Chill…

Well, as I learned in Lansing the other week, there is a proper time for Miller High Life and its not just at the end of a bad day. And just because you work in a great Belgian beer bar in Maine, well, it doesn’t mean you have to like the stuff, right? But shouldn’t he have narrowed it down a bit more that “a brown ale that we carry”… and what’s the hell is with the Miller Chill? Best line of any of the bartenders:

Worst drink to mix: Allen’s Coffee Brandy and milk, or “Fat Ass in a Glass.” Just mixing one makes me question humanity.

A few years ago I wrote a post about how Allen’s Coffee Brandy was the most popular drink in Maine but in all the years that I have visited there, I never met anyone who drank it. Pity those who work the front lines, the ones who have no choice but to serve “Fat Ass in a Glass” when the customer says so.

My Cultural Family Emblem Sullied And Used

cheapness

What other nation has to put with this, gets to be treated like a Geico caveman? So nice to see MacLeod of MacLeod dress tartan being shaped like a coin purse, then used as scant clothing and then used to illustrate cheapness, getting a free meal. Because that is what we do, we Scots. We hunt out ways to freeload, you know, when we aren’t creating modernity. What other culture could the Globe and Mail treat with such casual disrespect?

So Who Really Should Be Writing About Beer?

Stan linked via Twitter via Maureen to one of the oddest bits of beer writing I have ever come across in my years of doing this. It is by a Western Massachusetts based writer George Lenker, who apparently has had a beer column for about as long as I have written this beer blog. Looking at some of his other columns, he seems to have a thing about “amateurs” as well as his own special place in the beer writing trade. His convictions come out in force in his piece entitled “Sober Thoughts On Writing About Beer” published last Thursday in The Republican of Springfield:

…while I welcome everyone’s opinion on beer and craft brewing, I don’t believe everyone should be publishing his or her opinion with abandon, just because the Wild West ethos of Internet allows them to do so. By this I do not mean I want to see the suppression of said opinions; I just want to receive them in a manner that is both coherent and largely devoid of agendas and/or the shrillness that sometimes accompanies amateur beer writing…Unfortunately, some blogs and open forum sites burp up some pretty unbalanced and even incendiary writing at times and I believe this may turn off some newbies to craft beer. Anyone who knows me knows I am not trying to stifle anyone’s First Amendment rights here (as a journalist, it’s my job to defend them) but rather to coach gently those hobbyists whose shoot-first-ask-questions-later methodology of conveying their opinions does more harm that good.

In itself, I really could not care less if George Lenker likes or dislikes anything as I have never noticed coming across him before. I don’t care for the tone of importance though it is (I would hope) likely that here he is writing tongue in cheek to make the point or at least to get noticed. He did, after all, choose to use the phrase “the suppression of said opinions” – the use of “said” in this way usually being a flag for one thing or another. Yet, it is instructive at this particular point in time to consider the attitude that goes into making this sort or any sort of statement on a topic you are interested in. And, to be fair, it is likely due in part of the current pressures on print media. It may, however, also speak to something deeper. So, as a service to the reader who is unfamiliar with some of the issues at play when dealing with this sort of thing, there are some of my basics to remember when reading the work of anyone who writes about beer.

1. Most people have an agenda though many don’t state it. This is true in all things in life and not just writing. It is usually not a bad thing. It’s usually a synonym for “an interest” in something or another. Imagine a world where people did not have multiple interests. These interests pop up everywhere. For example, Mr. Lenker has used the word “superb” to describe the now defunct magazine Beers of the World – though to be fair he uses “superb” quite a bit. Mr. Lenker explains that he has written wrote for that magazine and presumably he has received payment for doing so. He has an interest in the success of that magazine. Good thing, too. For all the money there is in beer far too little of it reaches the palms of those who are thinking and writing about beer. We need more of it. We need more people with interest.

2. Interests can guide beer writers. For example, you will find a number of writers shrink from – and even mock – the writing of a beer review. Sometimes these same people have jobs that involve the selling of beer one way or another. This is good. It is entirely reasonable for someone to not cut the legs out of what is likely the larger part of one’s revenue stream. All that is required in such circumstances is a disclaimer as to limitation of their ability to speak to a subject. The best of us place the reason on the table so they can’t be taken as full authority. Look how well Stan does it in his recent review of a bookwritten by a friend and colleague. We should expect both multiple interest and disclaimers as to their existence. Maybe more than we see them.

3. Interests are inordinately sensitive topics but they are often the definitive factor in creating real value. Over at Knut’s place, Pete Brown and I got into it a bit this week in another “pros” v. hobbyist take on beer writing. He suggested I was challenging his integrity by noting he is a PR consultant to breweries. I was making an observation of fact. And what an important fact. No one else approaches questions of beer branding and its effect on the market so intelligently and consistently as Pete Brown. Frankly, one of the best bits in his new and utterly worthwhile book Hops and Glory is the Epilogue where he describes finding a vestigial use of the brand of a once powerful UK brewer, Allsopp, in Kenya. And, just to be clear, I don’t give a rats ass about branding. Pete’s interest in it makes it interesting to me.

4. Craft beers have relative value. But not everyone wants you to know that or talk about it. That should raise a flag. There may be an interest at play. To be clear, every child is special and, to some but not me, every dog is too. But every craft beer is not special and every craft brewer is not a good one. But things like guilds and associations and people who can write and seemingly accept concepts like “some beer writing may not be helping the cause” don’t like you to think about that too much. For some it is a toggle switch world out there – you are in or you are out. You either support the cause or not. Beware the toggle switch mentality. Further, the task of taking on the determination of relative value of such a complex set of data like the relative quality of beer requires a large set of evaluators. That is why, for all their own difficulties, ratings sites are so valuable. Likewise the combination of beer blogs and internet search engines. Only through these forms of writing and though not being concerned with “helping the cause” will the actual state of affairs be identified.

5. Beer information has great value. And that value has not yet been realized. For whatever reason, beer columns in a paper every week or two has not been a successful format for capturing the imagination of beer consumers except in a few local markets like Philadelphia. Making a commodity of information about beer and capturing it successfully can get you advertising, subscribers, membership fees and above all that brass ring of a job which is about writing about beer. I’ve done that. Beer pays for itself and I pay income tax on my beer writing generated through this site. That is what the ratings sites do and that is what others making money from beer writing do. It is good. Frankly, there should be more of if. And, also frankly, this talk of professionalism is difficult to divide from having a financial interest in the writing about beer.

6. Beer has downsides. The issues of productivity, health, public safety, budget and family life as they relate to being a regular drinker of alcohol have been written about as long as people have been writing. This is not a part of the discourse, however, since at least the days of Kingsley Amis or Richard Boston. In some way, I think Michael Jackson focused the discussion singularly on the wonderfulness of craft beer in a way that persists. This can be described reasonably as being “pro-responsible drinking than anti-anything” but it also raises questions about whether we do not write about difficult or negative subjects out of our own discomfort. These days, there is too much “Hooray for Everything” about craft beer including in beer writing. The lack of discussion of a topic or an angle on a topic may indicate that an interest is at play as well. Associating craft beer with negativity and even human suffering might not help the cause.

7. Beer has serious downsides. It is obvious that beer creates issues about weight. I am fat. Other beer writers are fat, too. Beer writers in the past like Ken Shales and David Line have died young. Was it the lifestyle? Craft beer is loaded with calories and the bigger the beer the bigger the calories. We don’t like to talk that much about it. Similarly, drunk driving is not being properly addressed. I started the idea of BBADD as a bit of a joke but immediately was struck by the discomfort of the response. I knew it must have meant something. We have beer writers writing against mass media descriptions of binge drinking in the UK and writing against MADD in the US. There may be real problems with these topics but we don’t have much writing about getting a handle on what is actually going on. And we certainly do not have the unified voice of craft beer or beer writers speaking out about these results of excess. Avoidance of the negative probably does not help the cause but does it help the consumer?

8. Craft beer is part of pop culture. The craft beer industry is not rocket science and it is certainly not a topic of exclusive or professional expertise. Yet it is a topic of great significance and even substantial financial importance. Think of being a craft beer fan as being similar to being a sports fan. Who in this day and age would accept a sports reporter palling around with team owners and athletes socially while reporting on the games they play? That’s the way it used to be. Who also in their right mind would suggest that (a) fans having an opinion, (b) those fans considering their own opinion as being experienced and valid or (c) fans expressing their opinions could any way be improper. You want people to be passionate about your pop culture product. Craft beer is a pop culture product. The opposite of the fan is the snob, the exclusionary. The craft beer snob is as out of place and illogical a concept as the baseball snob. For an author to suggest otherwise – to suggest that “some beer writing may not be helping the cause” – speaks to such a fundamental misunderstanding of the convivial and democratic role of beer in society that it leads me to question other opinions voiced by that author. And the question of undisclosed interest like the desire to maintain exclusivity under the umbrella of perhaps unwarranted professionalism. Fortunately, there are a horde of other beer writers – some justly earning a living, others writing out of pure passion. They are all out there now with other ideas and better ideas expressed to various degrees of success who enrich the overall discourse as best they can. Rather than being a time of degradation, it is, in fact, a wonderful point in beer writing.

Sure, these are interesting times for professional beer writers. The democratizing dynamics of the effects of beer blogging and beer forums let alone Twitter and Facebook may well have changed their world order. Even so, beware the one who suggests that the world is divided into people who should be granted exclusive commercial right on one hand and “hobbyists” on the other. As I noted a few weeks ago, this was the same complaint made by Bill Gates in the mid-70s at the point when distinctions between open source and commercialized computer software were being defined. As we know, the ramifications of open source are still being played out in the free and open marketplace…. well, free and open as long as it is governed by sensible anti-trust legislation.

These comments just touch the surface. They may even miss the mark. You may not care about them or may take issue with all of them. Think about them if you care to and write about how flawed they are. Or think or write about something else in the world of craft beer if that is your passion. Practice writing and keep at it because no one else can speak for you or describe how you see things. Don’t let anyone stop you if only because you may have an idea that no one has thought of before. That’s my advice to beer writers for what it is worth.

Back From The Eastern Midwest – And What Did I Learn?

I don’t know that I learned anything. Maybe that faux Amish beards are in with brewers. A lot of the guys at the two breweries I hit between single A baseball games and small town diners, Dark Horse and Jolly Pumpkin, were sporting variations of big bear face. Looked a lot like a reunion of mid-90s hayseed alt bands like The Waltons (YouTubian homage here) – but even more legit than a band from Saskatchewan as these craft brewers were good folk working with grain. I didn’t take any pictures of the many manly heads. I feel like a big enough doofus just asking if I can take pictures or saying I have a blog. But that’s to be expected. When you think about it having a beer blog in 2009 is a little like having a great disco collection in 1981.

The zip into northern Indiana surprised me in another way. It was the first time I found myself having a difficult time with a local US accent. Being Nova Scotian, I have no problem with Mainers but this was different. Like listening to the car radio with the dial slightly off station, I just wasn’t catching what I thought I should be catching. I got the beer, however, and even got the wave through at customs. I would have brought more than 63 bottles if I had known it was going to be a tax free day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the pictures above, you can see some images from both brewery stops. I had to admit I had a hard time finding Jolly Pumpkin as Dexter, Michigan is doing a downtown refit and what I last saw as a grey cinder block repurposed garage is now a red brick one with nicer side walks and streets being build around it. There is a tap room being added as well. I briefly chatted with Ron Jeffries and Drew Karl (I think… as the facial hair was in another amazing formation) who were in the middle of a busy afternoon and picked up one of the best deals in beer – $5.99 for their 750ml bottles at the brewery. They go for at least ten bucks in the nearby shops and more the farther you get from the area. Bought the classic black stevedore wool hat as well and, again, they had to find a receipt book to hand write the paperwork I thought I needed for Canada Customs.

At Dark Horse, I had the chance to ask some questions (and again feel a little like a doofus) with Travis “Vart” Glenn, taproom GM, as he was setting up the compound’s on-site bar. I had to admire the pottery mugs hanging from the ceiling. He let me know that they were by a local potter and that they came in batches of a hundred or so – which gave the collection a pretty amazing look. I couldn’t stay for tap room opening but I picked up a selection of their stouts as well as some good dry yeast. I’m now a proud owner of blue farmer’s work shirt from these hairy lads of Marshall, Michigan not to mention an orange hunters wool cap. Which means I now have wool hats for the two Great Lakes region seasons which are not summer – hunting and not hunting.

The layout of Dark Horse is a bit like a lumber yard with a collection of a few different buildings around a parking lot and which, like Jolly Pumpkin, was stocked with people busting their butts hard at work. You know, I may not buy brewers being hailed as artists and admit I laugh a little whenever I hear marketers label them as “rock stars” but there is no doubt they are some hard working and clever folk making a business of great beer… just so you can drink it. And, when you think about it, why shouldn’t that be honour enough? Sure beats rock star any day.

Indiana: River to BBQ to Notre Dame to Silver Hawks

Such utter tourist we were yesterday. From walking by the river killing time before a hall of fame opened, to sucking back fantastic BBQ (the barnyard special at the Double T), to wandering around Notre Dame, to hitting the ugly hotel swimming pool with the eastern European 1973 paint scheme, to taking in another ballgame. All good. The equinox of the trip is upon us and we slowly turn back east north east.

Indiana: City-Wide Liquors, Jefferson St., South Bend

Just a bit of praise where praise is definitely due to the good folks at City-Wide Liquors at Jefferson Street in South Bend. I was able to stop in twice and found the place one of the beer best shopping experiences in my life, you know, with good beer. Why? Here’s why:

a. There is an Indiana law that folks 21 and younger can’t even open the door at a drinks store. So the folk good at City-wide provided a clerk to wait at the door with the lad. Irritating law. Well handled.

b. The place is in the downtown a block from the courts, a block from the College Football Hall of Fame, surrounded by professional office space and looks like it fits right in. Neat and tidy, clever and kind.

c. Note the awning. It says “micro-brews” and not “beer” or whatever. These folk promote the good beer along with fine wines and spirits without a tie to food or a fest or a flavour of the month. If someone is looking how craft beer should be placed in the market to send the message that it is a stand alone quality product, check out City-Wide.

d. Great selection and great prices. I was happy to open the wallet to pick up beers by Indiana’s Three Floyds, Back Road and Barley Island along with St. Louis’s Schlafly of St. Louis and a New Belgium Mothership Wit for 3.49 a bomber. None of these are available in Ontario or from what I have seen in New York – and maybe not even in neighbouring Michigan.

e. Did I mention it is open from 9:00 am on into the evening? Sounds too early but when you are heading out of town at the beginning of a 15 hour haul east, well, 9:00 am makes a lot of sense.

The only quibble is their website isn’t telling the story well enough. It looks like it is focusing on the class of product other than those getting the focus at this downtown – and I would assume flagship – location. As with this evening’s experience of buying Arbor IPA, Founders IPA and Bell’s pale ale at a grocery store in Michigan, shopping at City-Wide in South Bend will only drill home all winter how poorly served Ontarians and folk in many other locations are.

Indiana: I Was This Close To Joe Montana

What to do on a Wednesday morning in South Bend? Well, we are a couple of blocks from the College Football Hall of Fame so it was worth a shot. These things can go a number of ways but little did we know that Joe Montana would be in the house. It was a private get together but we left about when he did and got a few glimpses.

Other than that, the Ohio State v. Michigan rivalry display is one of the best “sitting in the museum at the movies” experiences ever. Now the boy knows that Woody Hayes was one tough bastard.

Off to the Double T BBQ.

Indiana Means Tuesday Which Means Peanut Butter Pie

So far, the food of the eastern mid-west is not so much different as altered. This morning I had a cherry burger that had a patty that was half beef and half chopped cherry. It was mostly indistinguishable but, still, had half the red meat. Lunch included chicken and noodles which is chicken noodle soup with the soup aspect strangely removed. The potato salad had shredded spuds and the pies were fantastic. The peanut butter pie was like coconut cream with the coconut replaced with a thin layer of, you know, peanut butter. Who knew peanut butter could be subdued. I was bested by the fresh strawberry pie which kicked the strawberry pie of Helen of Machias’s all over town. Unlike the food, we are not so sure about the hotel. The nearby convenience store where the clerk sat in a plexiglas booth was one hint. The lack of any other guests on any of the 15 floors was the other. Tomorrow we seek out Notre Dame, BBQ and mini putt.

Michigan: A Two Hearted Ale And Then A Miller

When we got to Lansing it was too late to do anything like shop for beer. We had a hotel pool to cannonball into, then a supper to find as well as a baseball game to attend. The tickets seven rows back of home were nine bucks, my Two Hearted Ale was four-fifty with dinner and huge mug of Miller at the game was six. It was all good. The Miller was perfect on a hot hot evening, sweet corn and grainy barley with none of the off tastes like boiled veg and damp cardboard that too many of the basic macro brews get labeled with. Cooling with no bothersome strength to speak of. A craft beer would be spoiled by the temperature that I wanted with this stinking mid-western humidity.

That Messy Messy Democracy That Is Beer Writing

Stan H. and E.S. Delia have both written posts in the last few hours that go to the very heart of beer blogging. Stan’s post “The end of beer writing as we know it?” and Mr. Delia’s “On Beer Writing” both explore the relationship between blogging – an amateur form of expression – with profession beer expressions like movies or beer magazines. Dalia writes:

The bigger issue is the nature of beer writing. Carroll quotes filmmaker Anat Baron’s take on beer writers versus beer bloggers, implying that the writers’ assessments were more astute or level-headed than that of the beer bloggers. I don’t get paid for this, so perhaps my opinions are less valid.

Nothing is so embarrassing as when condescension meets foolishness. It reminds of the old joke “what do you call a doctor who got ‘D’ in first year anatomy?” The answer is, of course, “doctor.” Like Dr. Johnson said of nationalism, this sort of idea about professionalism can also be the last refuge of a scoundrel. For further study on this idea, I suggest you seek out the works of Ivan Illich. You may not agree with the idea that professionalism in itself carries downsides but the perspective is nonetheless worthwhile.

Fortunately, both Mr. H and Mr. D reject such poppycock. Both suggest the far better idea that beer blogging is not in any way illegitimate and in fact can uniquely advance the discourse on beer culture in ways that profession beer sometimes can’t. Delia reminds us of the need to look to and weigh content. Hieronymus looks with hope to innovation and new beginnings. Sure, there is a lot of crap in blogging as well as failed technicalities like poor grammar. But there is also a lot of crap in magazine writing and in documentary film making as well as failures such as the business botch of misplaced trust in an illusory homogeneous craft beer community which will buy your tickets or purchase your subscriptions like unthinking autobots. What has been going on for years – and what some still don’t get – is that all this writing is a collection of disorganized personal explorations which, like this post exemplifies, feed each other and weave another part of a large tapestry with ideas. It is a better more complex and richer way.

Thirty-three years ago, Bill Gates complained about the very same thing in relation to software “hobbyists” but he as wrong, too, as history has proven.