Your cart is currently empty!
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?
Categories
Tags
Social Links
Confessions of a Craft Beer Enthusiast: Navigating the Language of Brew
In the ever-evolving world of craft beer, the vocabulary can often feel as intricate as the brewing process itself. Recently, while enjoying a bottle share with fellow enthusiasts, I found myself in a rather humorous predicament that I believe many can relate to.
As my friends opened a barrel-aged sour—an exquisite blend of flavors—I felt the urge to impress those around me. With an air of confidence, I began discussing how I “truly appreciated the characteristic brett interacting with the oak tannins to create some beautiful phenolic compounds.” The catch? I have very little understanding of what “phenolic compounds” actually are. In reality, I was simply combining terms I had picked up from a vague recollection of a brewing podcast with some wine lexicon, hoping it would sound sophisticated.
To my dismay, my audience nodded in agreement as if I had just delivered a profound insight. Not wanting to be outdone, I further asserted that the beer “expressed local terroir through indigenous microflora.” It was a classic case of bluffing with jargon.
Reflecting on past encounters, I recalled a moment from last month where I attempted to articulate a beer’s “mouthfeel complexity.” What I truly meant was that it had a notably thick texture. Don’t we all sometimes find ourselves in a situation where we inadvertently speak a sort of craft beer “mad libs”? It seems we share a collective fear of being called out for our lack of knowledge, leading us to echo phrases we’ve heard elsewhere.
I can’t be the only one who feels this way. How many of us have slipped into the realm of pretentiousness, all in the name of a pint? Craft beer is a beautiful experience that brings us together, yet it can also create a paradox where we feel the need to sound knowledgeable. How do you navigate these moments? Do you find yourself weaving an elaborate narrative about flavors and aromas that you don’t fully grasp? Let’s open up the conversation and share our stories—because, at the end of the day, isn’t enjoying beer what truly matters?