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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
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- 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 Paradox of Craft Beer Speak: Are We Just Pretending to Understand?
Engaging in the craft beer community can be a wonderfully enriching experience, but it often comes with its own set of challenges—one of which is navigating the sometimes pretentious language that surrounds this flavorful world. At a recent bottle share event, I found myself in a scenario that many might relate to: attempting to sound knowledgeable about a beer while harboring a vague understanding of the terminology I was using.
As a fellow enthusiast cracked open a barrel-aged sour, I felt compelled to express my thoughts and proclaimed, “I truly appreciate the characteristic brett interacting with the oak tannins to create some beautiful phenolic compounds.” Admittedly, I didn’t really grasp what “phenolic compounds” meant at that moment. It felt like I was cobbling together a linguistic concoction of wine phrases and snippets from a brewing podcast I’d caught last year.
The cringe-worthy realization hit me hard when I noticed everyone around me nodding in agreement, as if I had just unveiled a profound truth. Fueled by this surprising validation, I went on to elaborate about the beer “expressing local terroir through indigenous microflora.” What was I even saying?
This isn’t an isolated incident for me. Just a month prior, I found myself discussing a beer’s “mouthfeel complexity,” when, in truth, I simply meant it tasted thick. I had slipped into a crafty jargon that seemed to impress others but left me questioning my own authenticity.
It seems that many in the craft beer world engage in a kind of verbal performance, echoing phrases and sentiments we’ve absorbed from various sources. We might hope no one will notice when we’re fumbling with interpretations of complex flavors or brewing processes. It begs the question: Are we genuinely appreciating the nuances of these brews, or are we just nodding along to a script we’ve never fully understood?
If you’ve ever experienced this feeling, know that you’re not alone. Many of us participate in this curious paradox of craft beer lingo, where the pressure to sound cultured can sometimes overshadow the simple pleasure of enjoying a good beer. So, the next time you raise a glass, focus on savoring the moment—after all, that’s what craft beer is truly about. Cheers!