Why You Should Become a Cicerone, Too

    I spent the last two years of my life managing a great independently owned beer bar chain in San Antonio and Austin, Texas called the Flying Saucer. The powers that be were always pushing us store managers to further our beer knowledge, to become more than just beer retailers and beer advocates, but rather to become certified beer judges and homebrewers, beer connoisseurs that could validate our establishment. When the Cicerone Certification program came along, they said anyone that took the exams would be paid for by the company. At the time, I had no idea what the program was, but I knew deeply as a beer server just how important it was. Any bar, any person, can pour a beer for someone. It takes a real understanding of where the beer came from, what type of glass to put it in, and most importantly the quality of the beer being poured and cleanliness of the glass it's being poured into to transform "any person" into a real craft beer advocate. I was up to the challenge.
    One morning when I was the opening manager, I hopped online and took the Certified Beer Server exam. Fifteen minutes and three cups of coffee later, I was a Certified Beer Server. It felt good, empowering, to know that I just put my knowledge to the test and proved to myself and my peers that I had the goods. Instantly I wanted more, though. There was a certain mystique and allure to the next (and at the time, highest) level of the Cicerone Certification Program. It seemed almost unattainable, and a challenge I wasn't sure I had what it took to complete. So I set to the task of developing my beer knowledge by reading, home brewing, and most importantly, drinking beer. Over the next year I worked hard at training my pallet to be able to indentify off-flavors, notice subtle nuances in beer aroma and flavor (all of the background notes), and learning more about the origins of beer styles. At times I felt dizzy with information, saturated with original gravities, cities of origin, food and beer pairing. It was the first time in my life that I ever had the zeal to study for an exam, to actually soak up knowledge, the first time chemistry and biology made sense to me. (Where were you in high school, Cicerone?!) Then in November, 2009, my time had come.
    I took my exam in Austin at a brewpub, proctored by another Texas Certified Cicerone™, with a coworker of mine. We had been sharing information and encouraging one another in anticipation of the exam. That afternoon we carpooled and shared last minute thoughts. We found ourselves the only two people taking the exam, but somehow I was at ease, confident. This was the biggest, longest, most involved test I have ever taken. When I took the ACT the one semester I went to college, I had multiple choice. This was all short answer and essays. There were certainly some questions I did not know the answers to, but I flew through the written portion thirsty for the opportunity to identify diacetyl and oxidation during the tasting portion. When I finished, I turned it in, said a silent prayer to Ninkasi, and hoped like hell that I didn't have my head up my ass.
     Just after Christmas I received an email from Ray Daniels. It was like getting a letter from a college you had applied to (I assume. I never applied to any...). I read the top and couldn't bring myself to go on. I didn't want to know if I failed, so I was ready to not know if I passed. With more curiosity than courage, I glanced down, past the word "Congratulations," to the part that had my scores. Holy cuss. I passed.
    Being a Certified Cicerone™ is awesome. Certainly there is a prestige and allure to it, but I'm not that cocky goddamit. I love being a Cicerone because it reminds me everyday that my beer knowledge has been certified and that I now have a duty to share that knowledge. When I was at the Flying Saucer I made sure that every glass that went out was clean as a whistle (beer clean), that the draft lines we poured from were cleaned regularly, that any beer that came back with the complaint of an off-flavor was checked for quality. I want to make certain that people enjoying craft beer can absolutely enjoy it. It may sound arrogant, but I mean it sincerely. Certified Cicerone™'s ensure quality.
    As a craft beer drinker, it is empowering to know that there are Certified Beer Judges and Certified Cicerone™'s out there making sure that beer is being made well, beer is being stored well, poured properly, and that I will receive the best possible beer when I go out. As a craft brewer it gives me confidence that my beer will be poured in clean lines and clean glassware at proper temperatures so that people can enjoy it how I intend it to be.
    The Cicerone Certification Program is all about education, and that is the difference between craft beer and crap beer. If we educate ourselves and educate each other, we become more of a community where choice and quality are amenities, not nice-to-haves. If you haven't, check out the Cicerone Certification Program, started by Ray Daniels (author of Designing Great Beers and Seibel Institute faculty) at Cicerone.org. The more Certified Cicerone™s there are out there fighting the good fight, the more certain we all will be that our beer will be fresh (or properly aged), and served with quality and integrity in mind.

Other Texas Certified Cicerone™s are: Brian Tarver (beer buyer at NW Military HEB and the first in TX)- San Antonio; Sam Wynne (Beer Guru at Flying Saucer)- Austin; Jeff Fryman- Richardson; Matt Quenette- Fort Worth

Your First Pint (4 of 10)

     Ladies and gentlemens, my latest Your First Pint featuring Aaron Chamberlain, the mastermind behind Craft Austin, My Last Pint, and the inspiration for this very blog. Aaron is a totally way rad dude, a huge supporter of craft beer and local breweries and beer bars.

Banner used without permission- sorry dude.

    "The first beer that really got me digging craft beer was Brooklyn Lager. But it was not just one Brooklyn Lager, it was many over a few months of drinking them around NYC. I was 23 and had just moved to Brooklyn with my new wife, Sofia. It took a while, but eventually it sunk in that I was dealing with something wholly different than the usual beer fare. Most of the pints along that path were with Sofia. A cast of other characters, friends and acquaintances were also there at some points. Brooklyn Lager  was (is) ubiquitous in NY, but most of those pints were had at The Gate, a pub a few blocks from our apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I miss that place so much, but the Draught House has made a great replacement. Before that, I had other nonfizzyyellowwater beer. I had always liked Guinness. I drank my fair share of other craft beers, like Rogue, in college. But before Brooklyn Lager I never really stopped and enjoyed the beer. It was the first beer to grab me and make me pay attention."


You can also follow Aaron on Twitter via: CraftAustin, MyLastPint, and ElMachuca

Your First Pint (3 of 10)

    In honor of their Labor Day event in Houston, I'm posting my third installment of YFP featuring Jennifer Litz, mastermind behind Texas Girls Pint Out, amongst a number of other beer related journalistic things. She was kind enough to share with me her introduction into craft beer.

Craft Beer and the Women Who Love Them
by Jennifer Litz

    "My first pint was a bottle, really. I'd always been a whiskey girl, before my best friend Desi insisted I drink Shiner or I wasn't from Texas.

    But that wasn't the pint that "blue" my mind. THAT "pint" , rather, was Chimay grande reserve. I don't remember the exact circumstances of my first taste -- think I was bein' adventurous at the San Antonio (Flying) Saucer -- but I half-remember many happy recurrences. It was such instant love I barely blinked at the price tag, even though I was a broker-ass editor than now.  That beer turned me into the Belgophile I still am today."

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    Texas Girls Pint Out is a Houston-based women's craft beer group who focuses on beer education, appreciation, and advocating craft beer, with a focus on Texas beer. Women are finally beginning to be respected as members of the craft beer community (we've come a long way since Susan B...), and Jennifer and the Girls Pint Out group is one of many female-focused craft beer groups around the country. To get involved with, support, promote, etc the Texas Girls Pint Out, follow Jennifer on her blog, and on twitter (@txgirlspintout). Women are people, too. 

Your First Pint (PT. 2 of 10)

Is it too soon? What the hell...

   Here is my second installment of Your First Pint featuring Scott Metzger, owner of Freetail Brewing in San Antonio, TX. Scott is a huge champion of craft beer and is always fighting to make Texas laws easier on craft beer producers. His brewpub has been a godsend to San Antonio as they continually make intriguing, delicious, and off-the-beaten-path craft beers. He was kind enough to tell us about his craft beer awakening:

One of the many great beers at Freetail Brewing

    "Excluding the countless beers consumed out of plastic cups as a minor while I was a student in San Marcos, I think the beer(s) that really thrust me into this world were over my first few days living in the D/FW area for my first job after college.  Since I was the only person within a 15 year radius of a couple of co-workers, we immediately became friends and they invited me out to a Rangers game my first week on the job. 

    We met up at Humperdink’s in Arlington (I’m not sure if they still brew there) and my friend Jay recommended I try a hefe.  Being about 115 degrees outside and my palate being uneducated (I was only recently 21) – it was a pretty life shattering moment.  I can still remember my thought process running along the lines of “Holy shit, beer doesn’t always have to taste like piss!”  After running the gamut of Humperdink’s beers that night we visited the Flying Saucer in Addison the next night as the guys were showing me the area’s cool spots.  The night before had filled me with wide-eyed ambition to try new things, and it was a McEwans Scotch Ale that fully cemented my love for beer.  That sweet, caramel, toffee maltiness blew me away.  To this day my favorite thing to hear people say is “Wow, I never knew beer could be like this!” and it’s probably because I can remember the moment I said those very words.  It’s an even more amazing thing when someone says it about one of your beers."

Stay tuned for more YFP's!

Your First Pint (PT. 1 of 10)

    So, I must say that this is one of the least original ideas to come up with. Saying that this was all my idea would be like saying it was my idea to start brewing beer in Texas. I'm way behind...
    The idea stems from two places: First, my wife Keely, my brother Peter, and I were having a conversation late one night over some beer that I can't quite remember... I think it may have been a Rogue Shakespeare Stout. At any rate, we were telling each other the story about the time we had that first beer, the one that gave us The Thirst*.  Pete and Keely both had interesting, captivating, and inspiring stories riddled with detail of surroundings, company, etc. Mine was similar, and we were all inspired and excited by each others account of that first beer. I thought it would be neat to hear other people's stories of their first beer. A friend of mine, Aaron Chamberlain, who is a beer enthusiast and beer writer, started a website not too long ago called My Last Pint where he asks people involved in the craft beer industry what the last beer they would drink before they die would be, who it would be with, what they would eat, etc. The stories and answers are always interesting and inspiring. I am a sucker for this concept and Aaron's execution of it is awesome.
   So, yes, I am biting Aaron's style a little bit, but I made sure it was cool with him first, and then I set out asking a bunch of folk these questions:

What was your first pint? Who was it with? Where did you drink it? What about the beer and the experience gave you The Thirst?


   Getting the answers back from people has been interesting and fun to read. Everyone's experience is different, some built over time, some a distinct moment of revelation, steeped in detail. My first response was from Chris Troutman at BeerTownAustin:

"Poppin' My Craft Cherry or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Beer" 

An essay on my eye opening experience with crafted beer by Chris Troutman

As way of introduction, my name is Chris. I am married and have a day job. For fun and in my free time I brew beer in my backyard and run a local beer site in Austin, TX. All these things keep me busy and happy.

I didn't drink at all during high school and not much in college. When I did drink it was fruity, bubbly and sweet. In my college town of Belton, TX good beer was slim pickings. I considered Red Stipe and Dos Equis Amber pretty fancy. I eventually made the move to Shiner Bock and Fat Tire. I was stuck here for a while. It was ok. I even considered myself a pretty educated imbiber. While most of my friends were killing suitcases of Keystone Ice and Miller High Life I was looking down on them from my high tower built of Shiner and Fat Tire bottles. It felt pretty damn good.

I would have stayed aloof on my tower alone if it were not for a job I got in 2005. My buddy hooked me up with a technical training gig for an elections solution company. This afforded me lots of travel. I spent the summer of 2006 jetting between Colorado and Washington state. During these months I tried a lot of new beers. I liked them and sought them out for their "guess what new beer I tried on the road" appeal. I didn't even know what I was drinking half the time.

Then one evening in Chelan County, WA someone shared a Deschutes Black Butte Porter with me and started me on path to respecting, appreciating, brewing and advocating crafted beers. 

Photo Courtesy of Chris Troutman

After traveling for several months with only short weekend trips home once or twice a month, I was beginning to lose touch and burn out. I spent more nights in hotels than my own house. More time with strangers than friends. One evening when I was feeling particularly lonely the Chelan County Elections Official invited myself and my coworker out for dinner. She and her husband took us to the small European mountain town of Leavenworth nestled in a river valley. After dinner they invited us out to visit their home and cherry orchard. On the drive there we came upon their son, a train engineer, who stopped his freight train to allow me to ride in the engine with him. He explained that I was seeing parts of the river valley and surrounding mountains that were only accessible by rail. Once we arrived at the cherry orchard they took us on a tour of the grounds, let us soak our feet in the natural irrigation from the river and stand and pick and eat cherries ripe from the trees. It was incredible. Upon returning to the house our host brought out a bowl of fresh picked cherries, some local wine, and a few bottles of Deschutes Black Butte Porter. I normally preferred "lighter" beers, but that night the dark beer seemed right. 

Sipping on that porter complimented with fresh ripe Washington cherries surrounded by such gracious hospitality left a lasting impact on me. I'd had good times drinking beers with friends before, but I think it was having this great of an experience with relative strangers that really made it remarkable. I know there were several variables going into the grandness of that evening, but the only one I can still consistently reproduce is the beer. After that evening I had a much different attitude towards beer. It wasn't something that set me apart or made me "better" than other people, it was something magical that could draw me together with other people over a common experience. It wasn't about separation, it was about sharing and coming together.

My first weekend back in town I went to Austin Homebrew Supply and purchased a homebrew kit and began making my own beer. I was still on the road alone and tired for several more months after that, but it was ok.