I was dining on pastitsio and kebabs at the estimable Beer Time pub in Athens (cover photo), and washing them down with a selection of Greek craft beer, when it suddenly occurred to me that twenty years ago I passed the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) test.
This milestone was attained much to the shock and consternation of those helping to administer the exam locally, as it included hefty components of brewing science and chemistry, which everyone knows I’ve always joyfully neglected in favor of telling stories about finding a clean, well-lighted pub somewhere in Belgium where the owner disappeared into a cellar and emerged covered with cobwebs and holding a bottle of decade-old mead.
(It really happened, and the mead was outstanding.)
But science and chemistry? Me? Nah, I’d rather bale hay in high summer the old-school way, plunge knitting needles into my eyes, and then trundle off to dine at Ronnie Mac’s.
The odds against me were daunting, so how on earth did I manage to pass the BJCP test?
Most importantly, I was almost perfect on the questions about beer styles and history. Then, when I saw those impossible science and chemistry questions, I just ignored them and kept on writing about beer styles and history.
Someone at BJCP Central HQ must have appreciated my cheek, because I was awarded just enough credit to squeeze through with a bare minimum score of 70.
I’ve indulged in beer judging only a handful of times since. Although I support the cause and believe it to be valuable, it remains that by the conclusion of most soul-crushing weeks, I’d rather slip out to the veranda to unwind with a nice glass of Vienna lager and a tin of kippers, and leave the scoring of beers to others.
I perfectly understand that beer judging isn’t everyone’s cup of Koduõlu (an Estonian-style farmhouse ale), but if one wishes to properly evaluate a beer absent a formal brewing competition’s meticulous standards—admittedly, they can sometimes resemble an operating theater’s hygienic procedures at your local hospital—there remain certain ground floor preconditions.
- You should refrain from the sort of palate corruption that comes from shots of Fireball, pinches of smokeless tobacco, or whole bulbs of roasted garlic ingested prior to tasting the beer (or, alas, even a tin of kippers).
- The beer itself should not be “the coldest in town” or iced to the point of glacial, unless you’re considering an American low-calorie “light”...Read more
