Wine Enthusiast Magazine
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A warning and a pet peeve to those who enjoy premium beers. The warning is: Beware of elitism and intolerance. The peeve: Stop rolling your eyes whenever I order a Bud, Heineken or any other beer far beneath consideration in this age of the craft brew.
I am a citizen (or a blemish, depending on your p.o.v.) of the wine world. We’re accustomed to this attitude. There is a species of wine devotee who will not drink anything but the most complex and full-bodied red wines from the finest producers from the finest wine regions in the world. Some will make a big deal of this preference and make you feel like a worm for enjoying anything less, but it’s not always a matter of snobbery—others are quiet and cool about it. Their feeling is, I only drink wine on certain occasions; why drink anything other than the best? The best being defined as: complex, with assertive tannins, well-rendered oak and balancing acidity allowing vivid fruit to star; a wine that evolves in the glass, so that each sip is an adventure, an experience to be savored.
Fine, great. But aren’t there occasions when simple refreshment is acceptable? I’m not talking about lower quality: The best Beaujolais wines are well-crafted, delicious and able partners with lighter fare. An Albariño from Spain is a delicious white best enjoyed young. Prosecco, a sparkler from Italy, offers clean refreshment, contrasted to the complexities of the finest Champagnes.
The same applies to beer, Tequila, movies, conversation—life, in other words.
It’s a matter of mood. Sometimes you want The Seventh Seal, sometimes Hot Shots Part Deux.
It’s a matter of education and training the palate. Admittedly, for those of us raised on simpler beers, bitterness and assertive hops can take some getting used to. If you’re accustomed to a clean reposado, your first sips of an aged, caramelly, full-bodied anejo is going to take some time to appreciate.
It’s a matter of courtesy. No matter where you are in terms of sophistication, consider that the other person may not be able to afford a premier cru Bordeaux, a Duvel Belgian brew or a Partida anejo Tequila. Have you ever dined with another, more well-to-do couple who blithely drove up the shared bill with their multi bottles of fine Burgundy? You want to murder them, messily.
It’s also common sense. After a hot summer’s day softball game or work in the yard, do you really want to chug a Guinness? When your plans involve responsible but prolonged imbibing, do you pound Unibroue’s La Fin du Monde? (Remember the ad jingle? Sing along with me: “Schaffer is the one beer to have when you’re having more than one.” No? Go to bed, child.)
But first, homework: What’s your guilty pleasure? What do your friends bust your chops about?”
Tim Moriarty is managing editor of Wine Enthusiast Magazine. Tim was previously managing editor of Chocolatier magazine. He is the author of several works of fiction as well as co-author of seven books on chocolate and pastry.
Filed under: Opinions and Commentary
June 25th, 2008 at 11:39:15 AM
Yeah, actually a Guinness is exactly what I want. Lower in alcohol than Bud, and a lot more flavor. Perfect, in fact, after the game. Now I probably wouldn’t go for a barleywine at that moment, but a stout might just be the ticket. Or, better yet, a saison! Thanks for asking.
July 7th, 2008 at 11:31:41 AM
My husband and I love craft beer and fine wine A LOT…but his guilty pleasure is a PBR and mine is Rose of Malbec by Crios (Argentina). But we’re used to being laughed at…we make mead for a living after all! Honestly, life is about pleasure; getting as much joy as we can in the short time we’re here - so do, eat and drink what you love and don’t let anyone put you down!
July 28th, 2008 at 1:15:53 PM
Just cut the grass. Not a beer fan. What works? 9%, 80 cent rosé from Spain–with ice.
Sometimes I want the best chocolate and sometimes I’d rather have a squirt of Hershey’s in hot milk (with a marshmallow, of course). I read today of some chef making his own marshmallows. I thought they only came in a bag. And when I was little, I thought that if you let a pickle get really big it became a watermelon. Grandpa said so.
You’d love my family. They get together all the time, drink beer, plan another camping trip or Bengal’s tailgate party and cook amazing things. They like wine now but I can’t send them any (felony state).
And here is how I judge a person and wine: one year, I left after Christmas and there was still some wine in the bottle. Dad put the cork in, put it in the fridge and when I arrived the following Christmas, he proudly brought it out. And I drank it. Maybe it wasn’t wine he was thinking of, maybe it was me.