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
No comments:
Post a Comment