Beer (and the Inauguration)

For reasons known only to certain parts of my brain, I am apparently unable to write anything coherent or intelligent concerning the inauguration—I say this because I’ve been trying to do so since the night of! So I’m giving up and just posting (below) my thoughts concerning a glass of beer, plus a note about religious language.





As Tuesday 20 January approached, my roommate Tara and I were considering how we’d get our hands (eyes?) on a television to watch the Inauguration. I think Tara had more reason to be excited than I, because she (a) is more politically informed, passionate, and active, (b) has worked with a variety of governmental organizations, most recently as a page at the DNC, and (c) knows enough about politics and the world to know exactly why she likes Obama, without being merely dewy-eyed over his rhetoric and attitude (as I often am).

That morning another BCA student told us that one of the Irish pubs in town, The Dubliners, would have the tv on for the inauguration, so we walked over and situated ourselves at the foot of the screen with another American friend. The owner (short white-haired terse Irish fellow) came and asked us for our order—our friend ordered “un Kro”, or a Kronenbourg, a beer made originally in this region and especially famous. Tara and I, feeling guilty for taking up space and still mostly clueless about drinks, ordered the same. We glanced dubiously at each other when the glasses arrived : one of our first conversations when we arrived here had been about our shared dislike of this drink, up until now smelling only of back alleys, public restrooms, and dirty creepy people.

We were happily surprised! It tasted very light and a little I think like white wine, sort of soft and foamy but not sweet or silky (if that makes sense). The aftertaste was the only unfortunate thing, because it tasted like warm yeast-water and unbaked bread dough. So we’re (mostly) converted. This is probably going to be our only concession to Alsatian cuisine; good luck getting us to eat ham knuckles or sausage and sauerkraut.

Postscript : Since then we have discovered La Lanterne, a micro-brasserie traditionelle. The word brasserie in common parlance means “place to get food and drink at almost any hour of the day”, but its original meaning is “brewery”—and La Lanterne is in fact a micro-brewery, which makes a lovely bière blonde served with a slice of lemon and smelling more like citrus than yeast.