On tasting Cincinnati and the stalking Budweiser attorney.

Brew Professor looks to be a good place to keep up with Cincinnati beer news, which has exploded so rapidly in recent years that a casual observer is hard-pressed to keep tabs.

When I caught the headline below, a song came to mind.

The problem is, I've heard it so many times before.

Taste of Cincinnati, yes. Drinks of Cincinnati, no, by Mike Stuart

One of city’s largest summer festivals, Taste of Cincinnati, is intended to showcase local culinary talent and unique local flavors. Most would agree they succeed on this front but their selection of Cincinnati beers have some room for improvement.

For a food festival there are certainly a large number of beer options (warning, some of these “beers” are Bud Light’s mixed drinks). However, for a locally focused festival, it’s sorely lacking an accurate representation of what is produced locally.

Of the 68 beers, only 15 are local from four of the more than 20 locally operating breweries. Yep, about 20% of the beers offered are made here in our community. The rest range from Cleveland to Kalamazoo to St. Louis to Portland.

Paying to play in whatever convoluted fashion serves only to remind us that American capitalism never has been pure or pristine, and when we hear a politician suggest such, our first reflex should be to reach for the rotten fruit and begin mimicking big league fastballs down the (wind) pipe.

In turn, this reminds me of a tangentially related story at Facebook, as relayed by Tom "Orange Blossom Brewery" Moench, who once saved my life in Orlando by providing alcoholic diversions as we were stranded for an afternoon during a family reunion. I've never thanked you enough, Tom, and your words here are sheer poetry.

What are the chances
I walk into a bar downtown and step up to order a couple craft beers for my crew
The fellow next to me barks out
"I'm a Budweiser attorney, explain to me the big deal this craft beer shit"
I tried to engage him, telling him that Bud is fast food and craft is fine dining
"where do you get off selling 3pks for $9" he says
I then tell him I don't want to talk to him anymore
He wouldn't shut up
We walked 25 feet away and he got up and came over to continue berating craft beer
I say "don't come at me like that"
He then insists on buying us Buds
We walk outside to get away from the fool but here he comes, beers in hand
I refuse them, and he tells me he knows the cops and will wipe the street with me
I hold my own hoping he will take a swing, but he was trying to incite me to swing also
I even called him "little fellow" (he was 6'3', I'm 6'4")
Stay Classy Bud

Bud's always classy, Tom.

Like Joe Stalin.