Yes, this is about beer. Yes, again. Yes, I will reiterate my frustration over “craft beers” that taste like cake topping or citrus punch – on purpose. Brewers carefully mix in everything from pigeon pee to craisenette squeezings in search of flavors traditional brewers would have been skinned alive for concocting.
“Just because you’re an old fart that resists change doesn’t mean everybody else is,” (I get sniffed at, dismissively). “Not all beer has to taste the same.”
Yeah, fine. I agree. Nobody with functioning taste buds would confuse a Guinness Stout with a Grolsch Lager. But they both taste like beer, don’t they? And evidently, this isn’t important anymore, at least to this local brewer:
“I want to make beer for people who don’t drink craft beer, but also beer that enthusiasts will love,” Artanis says. “My wife doesn’t drink craft beer, so I try to make beer that doesn’t taste like beer.” — Corey Artanis, owner and head brewer, 3 Sons’ Brewery in Dania Beach. Sun-Sentinel
I’ve not sampled his wares yet, but there’s no doubt he successfully achieved his objective of cooking up beer that doesn’t taste like beer. Look what’s out there already: Mango chocolate. Bacon cranapple. Daffodil teriyaki. Sarsaparilla smegma.
It makes a certain degree of sense, I suppose. For decades, fast food franchises have been making hamburgers that don’t taste like hamburgers. Good Humor makes ice cream that doesn’t taste like ice cream. All over Florida, bakers bake bread that doesn’t taste like bread. Ever tried those hydroponic water bags that pass themselves off as tomatoes? So why not beer that doesn’t taste like beer?
How quaint: all us decaying fossils who want food that tastes like food, and beer that tastes like beer. And get off my lawn!