I remember the first time I actually truly appreciated F. Scott Fitzgeralds The Great Gatsby. I had read it twice before, but I was just absorbing the words. A high school teacher had forced me to read it at one point during my freshman year, and I tried to read it on my own again as a junior in high school. But at that time i was knee deep in first time experiences with drugs, drink, and all that the female population had to offer. In fact, It wasn’t until the summer after my senior year, sitting on the beaches of the Outer Banks, that I felt that The Great Gatsby had finally decided to tell me everything it had to tell. Maybe it was the fact that I understood the history and culture of the roaring 20′s by then, or maybe I’d come to understand human nature and materialism in a more mature and realistic way. Or maybe it was the fact that I was super high that whole summer. But whatever it was, I fell in love with that book and with F. Scott Fitzgerald. In fact, after Gatsby, I read everything by him that was ever published. And after reading everything by Fitzgerald, I read every piece of great (or what I thought was great) literature I could get my hands on. In case your wondering, I still do this. In other words, I fell in love with the written word. Those who suffer from the same affliction (it is an illness, by the way) know that it’s a terminal illness. Destined to be with me for the rest of my life.
Well I came to cask ale the same way I came to Gatsby. Somewhat reluctantly. I thought the first few pints were too warm. I thought the next few were under carbonated. It didn’t make sense to me, I thought it was an outdated, nonsensical, and gimmicky way of serving beer, meant only for the likes of people like the late great Michael Jackson and Charlie Papazian. I thought it was boring. But then it happened. My Gatsby for cask ale was a pint of Avery Brewing Company’s IPA, served on cask, through a beer engine. It was a life altering experience. Hop aromas presented themselves in a way they never had before. Malt flavors lingered just a little bit longer. The drink-ability was amazing (i realized this during my third pint). It took an American IPA, heavily hopped, bursting with citrusy American hop aromas, to turn me towards this traditional method of conditioning and serving beer. (Historically, the majority of cask ale would be found in England, and the beer pouring from the engine or faucet would be an English ale of some sort). I was hooked on Real Ale.
Coming up in the next post, Cask Ale Part II: What Exactly is Cask Ale and Where is it Going in America?
