Okay, maybe I am getting a little carried away about something as simple as beer.
It's just that, I can't help it. I used to work for Anheuser-Busch, who was bought by a foreign company (Inbev), and they were not very nice to AB employees. A lot of people think they're drinking American when they crack open a Coors or Miller but guess what? SABMiller stands for South African Breweries (they acquired Miller in 2002) and although the 2008 anti-trust regulators approved Miller Coors as a joint venture between SAB Miller and Molson Coors, Molson is Canadian. They have some headquarters on American soil, breweries that still employ people in this country, but if there is any question over who is getting rich off red, white and blue happy hours, summer picnics on the lake, and weekends, let me introduce you to a famous fictional, and non-fictional character known as the little guy.
The little guy, who gets the proverbial **** end of the deal when corporations monopolize. The little guy, who works his whole life to support his family while the Gordon Gekkos of the world are slow to get their comeuppance. The little guy, who has optimism, the right to assemble peacefully, and a history of changing things from the underground with good recipes for brew.
That recipe is one part anti-establishment, one part non-conformism, one part authentic craftsmanship, with roots in autonomous ingenuity, and 100% spirit.
Add a few tattoos, irreverent visionaries, a nothing-to-lose attitude, and quality ingredients and you have a revolutionary movement against yellow fizzie beer with no taste, no fair distribution of wealth, and more importantly, no heart.
I'm getting carried away again. And I DO NOT wish to undermine the work of people who built family companies, or those in the heartland (all over our land) who still work for a living making yellow fizzie beer. Nothing wrong with sending your kid to college this way.
But gee whiz, I want the fair share to circulate where it ought to go.
I was the dorky kid in college who had to subdue my enthusiasm when the professor had us watch Tom Joad's speech. (But I have a cool side too, and I can recite Otter's speech from Animal House word for word and I cheer the demise of Neidermeyer). And I understand the way the market, the world, and even temptation work.
So when I see the success of microbrewers, when their popularity has an international reach and the little guys get a piece of the pie, I see irony, justice, and victory in a 12 ounce bottle of beer. I taste it in the heavily-hopped, attention to detail smoothness, and I see it in the deep, multi-dimensional, never transparent amber color, you know, the hue and agricultural staple that are mentioned in America the Beautiful.
But that's just me. Throw the empty Coors Light cans at me now.
And I'll tell you that San Diego was named Beer Capital of the U.S.A because we have the most (award-winning) breweries here, a concentration of breweries unknown anywhere else nationally. Oh, and we've also gotten nods from Food & Wine magazine for said concentration.
Last night I went to a place called Small Bar, where there were more microbrews on tap than I could count. And NO YELLOW FIZZIE BEER. There are lots of these bars and restaurants in my city now, they open their doors to everyone (that's their style), but, as I read in San Diego magazine, decline the reps from the foreign owned beer companies.
Where there is the little guy fighting the system, you'll find me. Drinking it in. And eating, too of course - these bars have elevated bar food, scratch cooking (homemade pickles deep fried, mac and cheese with Guinness! street tacos, oh my...), but that is another blog.
Where is Tom Joad now? He's in San Diego, eating fish tacos and sipping the hoppy fruits of his labor in the warm sun that, for now, shines in exactly the right place.
Image from southernliving.com Beer Glossary
