So it appears that within the last few years I have acquired a taste for beer. No one is more surprised than I am. It kind of snuck up on me, but one day I suddenly realized that my preference when ordering a drink lately was a brewed concoction made from barley hops.
While all of my mature and more refined friends are opting for a glass of fine wine, a stylish martini or an exotic cocktail, I am craving nothing more than a cold bottle of beer. Although this might fit in well with the younger crowd, at a tailgate party or a back yard barbecue, it doesn’t seem quite so appropriate at a corporate event (unless I want to hang out with the young suits). It also doesn’t help my image that I prefer guzzling my beer from a bottle rather than sipping it from a glass. (Really, who sips beer?)
So I just usually order a white wine at such events, and twirl my glass trying to look sophisticated and ladylike. All the while I am coveting the amber cool liquid being enjoyed by the fellow next to me.
At a time in my life when my metabolism rate has slowed down and my waistline has crept up, I have regretfully discovered the refreshing, but calorie-laden joys of a cold beer. I’m just wondering how many crunches and jumping jacks are required to offset the results of consuming one or two of these beverages. In my defence, drinking beer usually fills me up, so then I only eat half the appetizers that I normally would. So that appeases my guilty conscience to some degree.
Recently I attended Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany. Now those people know how to enjoy a beer. One stein was more than enough to quench my thirst (Have you seen the size of those things?) As to any dietary concerns, well, I figured that I expended enough calories just lifting that mug several times and jumping up to join the locals in their many toasts.
It has come to my attention that craft beers are really popular right now and gaining momentum right across North America. So I feel quite hip or cool, or whatever word young folks are using these days. (Who can keep up?) Even the names of these new ales on the pub scene sound interesting and inviting. I mean, who could resist a quaff of something called Blue Moon, Sweetwater or Summer Love? And don’t tell me that you’re not even a little bit intrigued by something called Kilt Lifter or Moose Drool!
That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy a fine glass of wine on certain occasions or with a meal, but nothing hits the spot like the first gulp of cold beer on a hot day, or when you’ve just finished a job, or when you’re really thirsty, or when...well, you get the idea.
