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Steven Coulson
Steven has been drinking beers, wines and spirits for decades and has a propensity to go about them at length after a few drinks.
Latest Posts
- My wife found out our favorite Gin for martinis was discontinued. I think we are good for a while…

- Oregon Road Trip: Freeland Spirits Garden Botanicals Gin

- Botanist with Trader Joe’s Lemon and Elderflower Soda

- I’m one of the worlds leading buyers of craft gin in the world and a international spirit judge AMA

- I’m blown away…. By how let down I am by this Gin.

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The Art of Pretentious Beer Talk: Confessions of a Craft Beer Enthusiast
The vibrant world of craft beer is filled with passionate discussions, often accompanied by expressions that can sound downright lofty. I had an eye-opening experience at a recent bottle share that made me reflect on the sometimes pretentious way we talk about our favorite brews.
Picture this: a chilled barrel-aged sour makes its grand entrance, and I can’t help but leap into an enthusiastic evaluation. With the air of a connoisseur, I proclaimed my admiration for the way the “characteristic brett engages with oak tannins to yield exquisite phenolic compounds.” In that moment, I felt sophisticated—until the reality hit me: I had no idea what phenolic compounds actually are. My words seemed to blend wine jargon with a stray thought snatched from a brewing podcast.
Ironically, everyone nodded in agreement, as though I had just delivered a profound insight. Encouraged by their reactions, I further elaborated that the beer “expressed local terroir through indigenous microflora.” At this point, I had to wonder: was I sharing my authentic appreciation or simply indulging in a verbal facade?
Just last month, I found myself discussing a beer’s “mouthfeel complexity,” which was my clumsy way of saying it tasted thick and rich. These moments made me realize that I, like many others, was engaging in a sort of craft beer language that can easily veer into the realm of nonsense. It’s as if we’ve adopted a crafty way of speaking, hoping to blend in with the more knowledgeable aficionados while secretly fearing we might be unmasked at any moment.
Does anyone else resonate with this experience? It seems that, in our enthusiasm for craft beer, we sometimes resort to jargon we don’t fully grasp, placing us all on a level playing field of uncertainty. Perhaps the next time we gather over a selection of unique brews, we can celebrate our shared passion without the pressure to sound sophisticated. After all, at the heart of craft beer is the simple joy of savoring a good drink—no pretentious vocabulary required. Cheers!
