There's an uncomfortable silence between two beer people as they sit around mediocre beer.
I was with a friend that knows good beer and we were at Desert Eagle brewing here in Arizona. We got past the uncomfortable silence quickly, and jumped into the critiques of the beer and other baseball talk pretty quickly, so it wasn't a big deal.
But when you go to write about these things, it gets uncomfortable again. There are real people who tried their best to create those beers, and you must stop to appreciate the best parts of those beers. The dark cherry golden ale had a whiff of cherry and some nice sweetness for a golden ale. The IPA wasn't terrible. The hooch -- barrel aged something or other -- had some taste.
By and large, though, you wouldn't want to tell other people to go to this brewery. The Russian Imperial Stout was all alcohol and nothing else. The grapefruit session had no grapefruit and the cherry blonde had no cherry. The porter was the best thing they had and it was just Fine. The music was your father's music, done poorly. The lighting was too bright, to the point that the derelict who came in for one beer noticed it immediately, drank his beer quickly, and ran away. The hooch was so strong that the dude next to you had spent an hour getting through a half pour.
So I guess you just smile, thank them for their good service, pay, and go on your merry way. But if you have a website, maybe you have to tell people that no, no, probably not *that* spot, don't go to *that* spot when you are in Arizona. There's plenty of other places to go that might hit the spot better.
The Week in BeerGraphs
In which I introduce a new favorite beer to a liquor drinker.
My milkshake IPA brings all the boys to the yard.
COME DRINK WITH US ARIZONA
I'm going with secret agent.