How savvy are you in a beer bar?

As a woman who writes about beer, I have grown to be passionate about the subject. Sometimes I am embarrassed by my own enthusiasm, because I catch myself being … well … the epitome of the Beer Fox, even when I am not in a setting that elicits such a persona.

I have another side to my life that many people in the beer community do not see. It encompasses the world of magazines – a land where ideas take shape, moving from the imagination of the mind to a product the consumer can hold in her hands. She can feel the paper, smell the ink, crawl into the mind of a writer, experience the lifestyle promoted by an advertiser. I often have the opportunity to meet these publishers, graphic designers, sales executives, and CEOs who create reality from fantasy. And although my role is in a corporate setting, I am usually introduced as The Beer Fox.

As you can imagine, this brief introduction prompts a list of questions substantial enough to rival the Roman Inquisition. You might think I would shrink in horror - being among professionals, yet having my colleagues introduce me as “The Beer Fox.” But I instantly get swept into my favorite genre – that of beer.

I can feel my pupils dilate. Uncontrollable brightness comes to my face. My heart begins to quicken, and my voice takes on the tempo of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. We may talk about Belgian beer, world travel, anthropology, or the ages of man. Beer leads to other discussions, too - discussions about philosophy, taxation, the development of agriculture and Louis Pasteur. My own excitement expands. It begins to affect others in ways they did not expect.

Unknowingly, one of my colleagues has suddenly discovered her own curiosity, stirred up by my innocent stories about attending a beer dinner, judging at a homebrew competition, or going to a beer tasting. She confessed her desire to try “some of those beers you talk about,” and she continued with, “How do I go about it? What do I say? I don’t want to look stupid around people who really know beer.”

It suddenly occurred to me that there must be a lot of people, both men and women, who don’t know much about craft beer, but want to have the experience. They are confused by advertising – particularly by beer conglomerates who promote common macro-brews as premium products. They serve it with fruit or sell its glamour through a stylized olde world website and the word ‘premium’ – beers such as Corona (with a lime), or Blue Moon (with an orange slice), or Stella Artois (a ‘premium lager’). Don’t accept schtick unless a brewery openly admits that it's schtick. Go for the real deal.

My colleague needed some quick tips, and many future craft beer drinkers might benefit from these words of encouragement, too: