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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
- 57/m: Love beer, but it doesn’t love me as much anymore
- No Stupid Questions Wednesday – ask anything about beer
- Does anyone else get treated like a beer snob for ordering literally anything that isn’t a macro lager?
- Is there a polite way to refuse a beer that’s being served in the wrong glassware without making everyone at the table uncomfortable?
- # What’s the most pretentious thing you’ve ever said about beer that you secretly didn’t understand yourself?
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The Art of Pretension in Craft Beer Conversation: Confessions from the Bottle Share
Craft beer enthusiasts often revel in the intricacies of flavor profiles, fermentation processes, and the nuances that distinguish one brew from another. However, there are moments, often amidst the clinking of bottles and the exchange of tasting notes, when we find ourselves reaching into a lexicon that may be more about style than substance.
Recently, while attending a bottle share event, I found myself in a rather pretentious predicament. A fellow beer aficionado uncorked a barrel-aged sour, and I felt compelled to contribute to the discussion. In an attempt to appear knowledgeable, I asserted that I “truly appreciated the characteristic Brett interacting with the oak tannins to create some beautiful phenolic compounds.” The truth? I had absolutely no concrete understanding of what phenolic compounds actually entail. I had essentially fused wine terminology with snippets I had absorbed from a brewing podcast, desperately hoping to impress.
To my surprise, my audience nodded in agreement as if I had uttered a profound truth. Encouraged by their reaction, I boldly added that the beer was “expressing local terroir through indigenous microflora.” What was I thinking?
Reflecting on my experience, I recalled another moment from the previous month when I casually mentioned a beer’s “mouthfeel complexity.” In reality, I was simply trying to articulate that it tasted notably thick. My brain, it seems, had engaged in an abstract exercise of craft beer mad libs, and I was left wondering if I had misstepped into a realm of complete nonsense.
It brings to mind the broader phenomenon within the craft beer community, where we sometimes parrot the phrases and terminologies we’ve heard from others, all in the hopes of fitting in or sounding learned. Does anyone else grapple with the feeling that we are pretending to know more than we truly do?
In an industry that values passion and discovery, perhaps the real beauty lies in authenticity. Let’s embrace the flavors for what they are, share our genuine thoughts, and foster an environment where pretentiousness is swapped out for honest conversation. After all, beer is meant to be enjoyed, not dissected beyond comprehension!