Monday, March 17, 2008

The Polack Who Stole St. Patty's Day

Well, this is supposed to be a big day for the world of meat and beer. I should be happy, I know. The only problem is that although St. Patrick's Day is the quintessential day for imbibing beer and consuming vast quantities of corned beef- all of which I am usually extremely grateful for- today I am feeling strangely apathetic. Maybe it's because I'm Polish and secretly jealous that there isn't a national Polish-American day where everyone eats sausage and pierogi and knocks back Okocim instead of Guinness. Martha Stewart is Polish after all. You would think she would be able to orchestrate a pretty good party for the rest of us Polacks. But, perhaps my problem is just the green beer. Green beer is not an Irish invention. No, only an American would drink green beer. Why? Well, if we drink Coors, Miller and the like, so we're not exactly concerned about the flavor of our beer. So why then would we be interested in the color of our beer either? Sadly, green beer is a just another reminder that beer, for many, is just a cheep means to a not-so-glorious end.

I will admit, however, that the saving grace of St. Patty's is Guinness. First of all, it's dark color prevents people from turning it green. But, secondly, I have always had a fondness for this beer. It is the shining star on the mediocre tap line up found in most bars around the country. Unimaginative and ubiquitous perhaps, but it never disappoints. If poured well, it has a nice creamy head, and pleasingly low carbonation. It is relatively light bodied and high in flavor. Guinness is, as Neil puts it "a gateway beer". So, I console myself with the thought that on St. Patty's day there are silly lager-swilling people all over the U.S. ordering a halfway decent beer for a change. They are having a fleeting brush with a beer that possesses actual character. Perhaps, every St. Patrick's day a few more folks order a Guinness and think, "Damn' this is good! I wonder what other beers have flavor? " This thought warms my cold, bitter, little Eastern European heart.

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