I’m leaning sideways against the bar at an East Vancouver dive, ordering a pint of Bomber Brewing ESB.
If you’ve never heard of this beer, that’s OK. Neither have I. But I order it from the bartender with the authority of a man who has a deep and storied history with ESBs, as if he knows what “ESB” even means (he does not).
“You want the strong one?” the bartender says. She’s stout, and German, and looks at me with a scowl one can easily mistake for intimidation.
“Yes,” I say, fingering the tap, “I want this one.”
“It’s very bitter. Have you tried it?”
Why does that matter?
“Yes,” I lie. “I’ll take the ESB.”
Y’see, it’s my new job in taking on this column to learn everything I possibly can about local craft beer culture. So I order the only craft beer this bar has on tap. The bartender doesn’t know this, of course, and she seems adamant for some reason that I reconsider my choice.
Whatever that reason is, it’s working. Should I have ordered this mysterious beer? Should I order a Coors instead? This line of questioning is not abnormal – like most writers, I’m neurotic and prone to self-doubt. It’s why I drink beer in the first place.
But I’m no expert on this subject – so why would I take this assignment on?
Well, a) I’m bearded, and flannelled, and roughly the same age and of similar cultural inclination as the average brewer in this city; b) I’m fascinated by the craft beer culture; and c) I really, really like beer.
All this to say I’m more worried than I logically should be that the ESB’s tremendous bitterness is for experts only, and will surely shrivel my mouth to resemble that of an embalmed Egyptian pharaoh.
This is an irrational fear, but I think it’s a common one. I know people who are interested in craft beer, but are wary that the beers are undrinkable – that the extreme hop content of anything labeled “IPA” will burn the top layer of skin clean off their tongues, or at least offend their delicate palates. And it’s true, a bad experience or two with an oatmeal stout or a triple IPA can turn people off the whole idea of craft beer for good.
But there’s far more to the beer, and to the culture, than that. This column is for really anyone interested in craft beer culture, but especially for those who’ve been put off by ESBs, IPAs, or oatmeal stouts.
This column is for anyone who’s let a bitter German bartender intimidate you into choosing Coors Light over something you might actually really enjoy.
Ze German brings the beer. She’s scowling and I have no idea why, but the beer is far smoother than she led me to believe, which, y’know, is a pleasant turn of events, indeed.
(ESB, I found out later, means "Extra Special Bitter." It also means "Enterprise Bus Service" or "Electrical Supply Board", depending on who's asking...)
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