Monday, December 1, 2008

On Egg Nog, Beer, and Charlie Brown

The day after Thanksgiving officially marks the beginning of the Christmas season for most Americans (though a quick stroll through a shopping mall would have you believe that the kickoff happens sometime closer to Halloween). This is also the day that I officially allow myself to begin to listen to Christmas music and indulge in any kitschy holiday films or TV specials I happen to enjoy. Granted, I used to watch the Rudolf Christmas Special in the middle of July back in the simpler times of my youth, but I'm older now, more prone to cynicism and apathy. Thus, I have to set strict guidelines for myself.

The Christmas season, in many ways, operates much like a Microbrewery. There are a whole list of traditions, foods, beverages, decorations, songs, movies, etc. that are only supposed to surface during the months of November and December. Egg Nog is a great example of this. Kudos to the dairy companies of America for strictly adhering to the unwritten code of Egg Nog consumption. Though almost nothing is sacred in this modern, drug-crazed and porn-soaked era of ours, at least companies such as Hood and Garelick farms still know the value of tradition and understand that Egg Nog is only to be consumed during a specific time of the year. Imagine...Egg Nog in August. All decency would be lost. Children would be impregnating their parents. John Madden would travel by airplane. The Drew Carey Show would be back on the air. Total Chaos.

However, I digress. Back to the Microbrew analogy. Imagine that your favorite beer is a Long Trail Harvest, a delicious amber ale that goes down smooth during those crisp autumn days in Vermont. This particular beer is only available during the months of August through December or January, depending on when the final batch is gone. Now, bottled beer is still drinkable for at least six months. So if this happens to be you favorite beer, you could easily buy a case or two, store it in your closet, and break it out in May to the envy of all your friends. 

The problem with this hypothetical scenario is that there is something inherently special about seasonal beer. That moment when Harvest Ale first hits the shelves at your local liquor store is a magical time. That first sip is not only delicious, but also telling. When those hops tango with your taste buds for the first time in nine months, you know that summer is ending, the leaves are about to change, and the days are getting shorter. The fact that a beer can have that effect is one thing that makes seasonal brew such a great part of beer culture. Drinking a Harvest Ale in June would, quite simply, ruin that effect. When the beer hit the shelves that following August, it would cease to be anything but a good-tasting beer. Your taste buds would still be happy but there would be no sense of seasonal romanticism, which I imagine is a terrible loss.

Like Long Trail Harvest, Christmas, and the endless amount of baggage that comes with it, should only be enjoyed during a specific time each year. Some may believe that time begins in November. Others, like me, may choose to partake once Thanksgiving is over. That's freedom...that's America. Anybody who puts up decorations or dusts off the Bing Crosby records before November however, should be publicly ridiculed. 

So, as another Christmas season begins, and one that will no doubt prove to be the strangest in my short history on this planet, I look forward to enjoying those personal traditions I hold close to my heart. Will they have Egg Nog in Seoul? Maybe. Will I get to kiss a pretty Korean girl under the mistletoe? Probably not. Will I stroll through Myong-dong, enjoying the lights with the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas streaming through my headphones? Most definitely.

No comments: