When someone asks my friend what “flavor” of beer he wants, he is fond of saying, “Beer flavor.” This is like asking for wine-flavored wine or cheese-flavored cheese. We don’t want all wines and cheeses to taste the same, so why should all beer taste the same? Like wine and cheese, beer is created by a living organism; yeast may be God’s greatest creation. Although it cannot turn water into wine, yeast can turn sugars into beer, and that’s way cool. Unfortunately the little buggers leave some sugars behind, resulting in what tastes like watered-down maple syrup. Add a bittering agent like hops, however, and you get a very tasty beverage. By using different varieties of malt, hops, and yeast, and carefully controlling the fermentation, an astounding variety of flavors is possible.
Despite the possibilities, though, the typical American lager is carefully formulated to minimize flavors. Brands emphasize “smoothness,” “drinkability,” and “no bitter aftertaste.” This is accomplished by reducing the hops. But without the hop bitterness, the malt flavor would be cloying, so they reduce that as well, and substitute corn or rice for some of the malt to create a “cleaner” taste. It is reductio ad absurdum. (Feel free to cite this as an example of the concept on you next philosophy paper.)
American brewers have been gradually removing the flavor from beer for years, but are not totally to blame: They have merely responded to consumer demand. German immigrants in the late 19th century introduced lagers that were lighter bodied than the simple English ales Americans often made at home. Lagers required more precise brewing techniques and cold fermentation that was unavailable to most people. As Americans settled in cities, more of them got their beer from commercial breweries run by German or Austrian immigrants and lagers became the country’s preferred style.
No problem there; German lagers and Czech pilsners are perfectly fine beers. But Prohibition came along and transformed the brewing industry, killing off about half of the country's breweries, most of them small, local operations. The largest breweries then gobbled up their smaller competitors through national advertising and distribution, economies of scale, and product consistency. Consumers were looking for lighter tastes like the near-beers produced during the ban on alcoholic beverages. More women became beer drinkers, particularly after World War II, and most preferred lighter styles. The big breweries were soon competing against each other to make beer that appealed to the most people. The result: essentially same product, made by a handful of breweries and distinguished only by advertising and marketing.
Unfortunately, this has led most Americans to believe that beer is not supposed to be “strong.” When they taste a flavorful craft beer, it doesn’t taste like "Beer-flavored beer." But that's the point. Approach beer more like wine or food, with the expectation of flavor, and a new world opens up. Abandon the notion that beer is meant to be guzzled from a can and try sipping it like a wine, liqueur or cocktail.
For more beer history, check out An American Brew, a 50-minute documentary directed by Roger M. Sherman that explores America’s love of beer from Colonial times to the present, with an emphasis on the changes brought by Prohibition. You can purchase the DVD for a mere $5.49 at herestobeer.com. There is lots of good information on Here’s To Beer, but beware: The site and the documentary are sponsored by Anheuser-Busch. And the juggernaut rumbles on…
This article appears in Jun 4-10, 2008.