Of Ales and Lagers

I like beer. My belly and stash of bottles and cans at home will attest to that (probably the main reason I'm walking). Even my wife, Erica, has taking a liking to the suds, having first compared the taste as similar to "cat pee" (No, I won't ask how she knows what that tastes like.).

Sure, in my youth I loved the mass-produced, cheap stuff -- Bud Light, Natural Light, Old Milwaukee, Keystone Light. And every once in a while, I'll plunk down $5 for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon or Lone Star.

But I've become a bit of a beer snob. No, I can't reel off the AVB (alcohol by volume) and aromas of a beer (e.g., earthy, spicy) or the step-by-step brewing process. I do, though, enjoy the more expensive, better quality craft beers.

And not only do I enjoy the beer; I also enjoy the passion and love that goes into it. Anyone can go to a supermarket, convenience store or liquor store, grab some beer, pay the cashier, and never give the transaction a second thought. But there's something special about visiting the brewery responsible for the beer, meeting the brewmaster and staff, touring the facility, and sampling the different offerings fresh from the tanks.

For me, it started around 2005, as I heard about a growing brewery nearby called Saint Arnold. Erica and I went on a Saturday morning tour in a warehouse district of northwest Houston, joining about 50 other beer aficionados. Entrance was free, and you received tokens for four 4 oz. samples (ummm, I took a couple of Erica's). The high quality beers were in a variety of styles -- ale, hefeweizen, Kölsch and more.

From then on, we were hooked. Others were, too. Saint Arnold added more beers to its rotation, including seasonals and "Divine Reserves" that draw lines of hundreds of customers in front of liquor stores and supermarkets hours before opening with quantity limits. They began charging an entrance fee and expanded enough to relocate to a nearly 100-year-old facility in north Houston. They even participate with other brewers in lobbying at the Texas Legislature, which led to laws in the past session that allow shipping breweries such as Saint Arnold to sell a set amount of beer directly to customers (must be consumed on site) and for brewpubs to package and sell some of their products for distribution in other retail outlets.

Counter at the Saint Arnold brewery in north Houston.

As I said, Saint Arnold got us started, and we'll never finish. We've been to countless breweries such as Shiner (Shiner), No Label (Katy), Live Oak (Austin), Independence (Austin), 512 (Austin), Southern Star (Conroe), New Republic (College Station) and Real Ale (Blanco) in Texas; Abita in Louisiana; Harpoon (Boston) and Cambridge Brewing Co. (Boston); Triple 7 Restaurant & Brewery (Las Vegas); Denver ChopHouse & Brewery (Denver); and others [make sure you're 21 if clicking on the links, wink, wink]. Each time, we learn more about the time and effort put into the craft, and when we're done, we're ready to find another destination. In fact, we hope someday to follow in the footsteps of the "Roaming Pint," a couple in their RV traveling to beer destinations across the United States.

The Spoetzl Brewery, home of Shiner.

No Label Brewery, an old rice silo in Katy, in its early days. Now, almost 1,000 people visit each Saturday.

It was in touring the breweries we learned about beer "dinners." Just like a wine dinner, beer dinners are beers paired around food. They're done in courses -- from appetizers to entrees to dessert -- joining a restaurant with the brewery. Often, both the head chef and head brewmaster attend to give background not only on the food and beverages but also why they complement each other so well. Erica and I have done a few, with Brooklyn Brewery in New York and Left Hand Brewing in Colorado coming to mind.

Brooklyn Brewery beer dinner at Alamo Drafthouse in Austin with renowned brewmaster Garrett Oliver.

So, we've got craft beer at the store, brewery tours and beer dinners. That's it, right? Well, what if I told you there were places called beer "festivals" where different breweries gather to showcase themselves and their various beers? Too good to be true? Thankfully not!

Some festivals are small. Others are not. Among our first were a pair in Boston -- American Craft Beer Fest and Beer Summit. They were followed by the 2011 Texas Beer Festival in Humble, where we sampled brews from No Label, Southern Star, Independence, 512, Saint Arnold, Real Ale and Rahr & Sons (Fort Worth). There also were numerous food trucks to help absorb all the alcohol.

Father-in-law posing at the 2011 Texas Beer Festival.

But the required pilgrimage for all beer "knurds" (thanks, Flying Saucer) is the Great American Beer Festival each fall in Denver. Now in its 32nd year (starting in 1982), it has grown from 800 attendees to 50,000. Tickets to each session sell out within minutes, and many of the hundreds of participating breweries produce special beers just for the event. Erica and I enjoyed the 2011 GABF and plan to go again soon.

Ahhh...the Great American Beer Festival

So there you have it. I love beer, and I love talking about it. In fact, this blog is making me pretty thirsty, so I'm going to grab a cold one from the fridge. Til the next time...