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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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Craft Beer Snobbery: Why Choosing Flavor Can Feel Like a Sin
Have you ever felt judged for simply wanting to enjoy a good beer? If so, you’re not alone. Recently, I experienced a classic scenario that many craft beer enthusiasts can relate to. During a dinner outing with colleagues, the server approached to take drink orders, and I decided to order the house IPA, expecting a flavorful experience. However, my choice was met with immediate skepticism, as if I had made a bold declaration that sent shockwaves through the table.
One of my coworkers, clearly unenthused by my preference, rolled his eyes and proclaimed he doesn’t need those “fancy flavors,” opting instead for a Stella Artois, which he touted as an ‘imported’ lager. His dismissive attitude toward craft beers—especially IPAs—was palpable, as he seemed to like the idea of drinking ‘normal beer,’ believing that anything outside the realm of macro lagers was snobby or pretentious.
As he proceeded to explain how hops are just a gimmick, I found myself caught in the unusual position of defending my choice. I attempted to clarify that hops are a core ingredient, not some exotic craze. Yet in his eyes, choosing anything beyond a mass-produced beverage was akin to wearing a monocle and discussing the nuances of wine pairings.
The irony didn’t escape me either; he was paying significantly more for his so-called premium European lager—a drink that, in my opinion, was similar in taste to your standard Bud Light, albeit with a fancy label. Yet somehow, this felt more acceptable in his eyes.
So how do you navigate these conversations without coming off like a snob? It’s tough when enjoying a sip of craft beer automatically places you in the “flavor-obsessed” camp, simply for wanting something with a bit more character. The struggle is real when you realize that for some, the pinnacle of adventurous drinking is a Corona with a lime.
In the end, it’s not about sophistication or elitism—it’s about flavor and enjoying what you truly like. The next time you find yourself in a similar position, remember: your preferences are valid, and you shouldn’t feel compelled to defend them. Perhaps we can encourage a broader appreciation for diverse tastes—one beer at a time. Have you had similar experiences? How do you engage with those who view craft beer as an unnecessary extravagance?