Seriously, Karim! The cultural divide between wine and beer drinkers

I was hosting friends a few weeks ago for a cookout, and I wanted to get some beer and wine. So, I called one of those friends for a recommendation.

I must let you know, this friend of mine is possibly a wine snob. No, he’s definitely a snob. And as expected, when I asked for beer and wine suggestions, he exclaimed loudly, “BEER?” Why would you want any beer? Who’s gonna drink beer?”

I replied that some people might prefer beer, to which my friend made a sound to imply something between “You’ve got to be kidding,” and “Beer is water with food coloring.”

I went ahead and got both, and some guests enjoyed wine while others had beer. But that exchange stayed in my mind.

After writing about food for over 30 years, I am familiar with the wide divide between wine people and beer people. And while some folks drink both, depending on the food and the gathering, most tend to stick to one or the other.

Wine drinkers tend to be more subdued, sipping and relaxing while discussing things like the stock market, the latest space discovery or that Whitman poem. Beer drinkers might talk about football, baseball, basketball, and how fast the Talladega 500 winner went around the track in Alabama.

Speaking of NASCAR, I used to cover the Talladega 500 while living in Birmingham, and I can assure you that no wine was consumed at that infield.

Again, I’m not putting down wine and beer people, nor am I stereotyping. I’m just stating what I have observed for decades. I may also be exaggerating a bit!

The talk about wine and beer is also different. When wine drinkers describe their wine, several things must take place. I attended the New Jersey Wine and Food Festival a few weeks ago, and I witnessed the following actions when those aficionados tasted a new wine.

First, they swirl the glass and watch the wine with a discerning eye, like the bubbles will tell them the life story of that barrel that housed the wine for a decade. Next, they stick their nose deep into the glass and inhale with gusto, not once, not twice, but three times. Lastly, they take a sip and swirl it in their mouth while counting the ceiling tiles.

Someone might ask for a verdict, to which the wine connoisseur would say, “This wine is elegant and clean with the aroma of a wood barrel from a ship that carried whiskey back in the 15th century, and it was commanded by a one-legged man with an eye patch. Lots of energy in a palate that is sleek and polished.”

At this point, the aficionado repeats the looking/smelling/sipping/swirling/counting-the-ceiling-tiles, then they continue, “I detect harmonious and stubborn tannins with complexity. There are also hints of that damp moisture of the cellar, earthy tones, curry, grapefruit, blackberries, old furniture and forest floor.”

I can’t say that I’ve heard all those terms at once, but over a few years of hanging out with wine snobs, I’m familiar with the vernacular.

Beer snobbery, on the other hand, is less stated. You’ll hear terms like aroma, style, flavor profile, appearance and mouth feel. Color says a lot about a beer. The one that got me is when beer experts talk about fermentation.

You’ll hear things like fresh-baked bread, clove, bubblegum, yeasty, Belgian’y, aromatic, tropical, subtle, fruity, clean, banana-like, earthy, musty, and my all-time favorite: horseblankety!

Personally, I’m not familiar with the smell of a horse blanket. Maybe I’ll go out in the country today and hunt for one while sipping some beer.

Karim Shamsi-Basha may be reached at [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter & Instagram.

Follow Mosaic on Instagram at @MosaicNJcom and on Facebook at MosaicNJcom.