Your Local Craft Beer Is Not That Good

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After living in one of the country’s greatest craft beer mecca’s, namely the illustrious San Diego and the up and coming Washington DC, I have come across an interesting phenomenon.

To illustrate lets talk about my boss calling me a snob. This happened after I said, to the agreement of another coworker, that his IPA was not that good. He then replied something of the effect you are from Cali so you are a beer snob.

At the very least this got me thinking about local loves of local craft beer. With the resurgence and renaissance of the american craft beer market breweries are popping up all across the country. And people are becoming vehemently attached to their “local” craft breweries. Thus, when visitors or new immigrants to this local craft beer scene come in an become nay sayers of these local brews, legitimate or illegitimate nay sayers, they usually get the boot! Hence my boss, “You snob.”

All this to say I am not saying one or the other position is right. All I am saying is that we have attachment to beer, not necessarily because it is objectively good (by which I mean to follow the BJCP and GABF standards) but because its ours. Its our local beer.

I think we should be open to the possibility that our local craft beer is only good because its local. I also think we should be open to the possibility that our local craft beer is good because it was recognized or could be recognized on the national level. You may have a local jewel in your local industrial park, or you may not.

All in all, just drink more craft beer.

Until next time, pour proper my friends…

Plan a Trip to Plan 9 Alehouse

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Going to San Diego? Going on a Beercation? Planning on drinking great craft beer and being around better people? Plan on going to Plan 9 Alehouse. This little jewel is tucked in the hills of North County Escondido and hiding in the shadow of Stone Brewing down the street from The Lost Abbey. They carry on the tradition of the great craft beer of San Diego.

The owners of this bar know their beer. For example one of the owners, my friend Chad who manages the front end, worked at Stone Brewing for numerous years before he was approached about opening a new bar in downtown Escondido in North County San Diego county. And thus was educated by the best in the business on how to serve and drink craft beer.

With a modern appeal get ready to have beers slid down their 25+ concrete bar and into your hand. Then, now that you are tulip glass equipped for bouncing your tongue off of multicolored ecstasy, get ready for the best of southern California’s beers. Plan 9 regularly have taps from the best of Stone, The Bruery, Alpine Brewing, and many other classics of our current craft beer renaissance. Then engorge and gorge yourself on their Cali style food. The bourbon Siracha (can you hear the mariachi band?) wings are not to be missed and make you dream of more Californication in your life.

My favorite thing, and yes I’m biased because Chad is a dear friend, is the attitude that the bar has. The locals congregate only to be given nicknames and have their beers poured as they walk in the door while visitors are greeted and shown to their seats by a kindly server.

And did I mention they have Monty Python playing all night in the background?

Visit this place and make it soon and you will get Beer To The People!

But until next time, pour proper my friends…

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The Ever Bustling The Bruery

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Kid in a candy shop and sensory overload cannot even begin to describe my senses during my recent visit to The Bruery.

From the freeway exit, if you know what to look for their tower calls you from afar. Illuminating your desires and becoming a lighthouse of your desire. Then to walk in is to become accustomed to Southern California and the crampedness of Orange County, and also to its opulence.

One thing I love about my home state is its diversity. And this trait erupts at The Bruery. Upon entry we see Sons of Anarchy there, bro’s and their girlfriends, old and young, cool and nerd abound in this center of craft beer.

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