Friends, I have a testimony to share with you tonight. I’m not proud of my past, but I do want to tell you my conversion story so that you can hear the good news and learn from my mistakes. Maybe some of you will hear my words and they will move your heart and open your eyes to the Truth, and the Truth will set your tastebuds free.
When I first started taking my craft beer love seriously, I dove in headfirst. I left behind the wicked ways of commercial breweries with no second thoughts and no looks back. I hated my past and the things I drank in ignorance: Natural Light. Smirnoff Ice. Mike’s Hard Lemonade. And yes, friends, I even drank the Unholy Trinity – Budweiser, Miller, and Coors. When I was shown the light, I was disgusted at my actions and swore never again to allow myself to stray.
As penance, I found myself seeking out beers in styles that were as far from these vices as I could. I devoured pale ales. I lost myself in lagers. I reveled in porters. I immersed myself in stouts. Life was good; I was learning as much as I could and was having a blast doing it.
However, without even realizing it, I began to go overboard. As I tried each new style of beer, I compared it in my mind to those awful beers of my youth. Anything that I tasted that seemed remotely similar I wrote off as unworthy of my time and attention. Pilsners? Disgusting. Blonde Ales? Might as well drink water. But the worst – the style that reminded me the most of the big beers – was the weizen. I had three or four of them in quick succession and based on those few examples I decided that any and every wheat beer was just too bland and tasteless for me to waste my time on. This aversion to wheat quickly became my mantra, and I even began to judge others for liking it. I know, I know – self-righteousness is almost as bad as living in sin, but thankfully someone came along that led me from the desert of my unbelief to the promised land of the hefeweizen.
His name is Moses.
I came back to the wheat beer this summer because I found myself craving a lighter beer. I wanted something that didn’t demand my attention like an IPA and wasn’t as full of big malty flavors like a stout. I needed something crisp and easy, something to drink without thinking, something playful like summer itself. At the store for my weekly beer run, I grabbed a sixer of Holy Moses and bought it before my uneasiness could get the best of me. At home, I opened one up to drink while I barbecued some locally raised pork chops. As I poured it into my glass the hazy, yellow color made me a little queasy, just by association. With great apprehension, I raised it to my lips and took a first, hesitant sip.
And in that sip, I was saved.
Holy Moses is a delicious, fresh beer. It has a wonderful spicy feel right off the bat that tastes of coriander and very strongly of cloves. That spiced flavor flees very quickly and is replaced with sweet bananas and a hint of cream, then pops and bursts with the carbonation and ends up tasting like a great club soda – light, refreshing, a little bitter, and effervescent.
It tastes nothing like Budweiser. It tastes!
So, my apologies to all those I ridiculed. I have seen the error of my ways. Thank you, Moses. I have been set free.
DRINK IT WHEN: in the land of milk and honey.
P.S. – Just a little question for all y’all out there; I was wondering if you might help me out with a little potential celebration. Some wonderful, enterprising people in my city have managed to gather enough signatures to force a special ballot to vote on whether or not to allow alcohol sales within our community. Support seems strong, and I’m cautiously optimistic about it, especially since several towns around us have legalized sales in the last year. So, my question to you – if on June 26th it becomes legal for me to buy my beers down the street instead of 50 miles away, what should I have on hand to celebrate with?