The Lateral Line

The post Reserve era has left me with the opportunity to do some things I couldn't fit into my schedule when I was working full time in a professional kitchen. For the past several years Amy has extolled the excellence of the Winter Beer Festival, but until now I was unable to attend. To say she was right is a gross understatement. This festival is everything a beer lover in the great white north would want. There are some 70+ Michigan breweries pouring their staples and some rare specialties (some were pouring beers made exclusively for the festival). The air was perfectly crisp and fat snowflakes lumbered drunkenly toward the ground. There was great music, an insurance adjuster's nightmare of a snow hill to romp on, roaring fires, smoked turkey legs, and for me, someone who has worked on the fringe of the craft beer industry, a chance to see friends I haven't seen in a while and drink their outstanding beer.

We stayed the night in a hotel in Grand Rapids the night before the festival and beer hooligans were filling the lobby bar. They are not hard to spot: typically a group of younger people, dressed simply and having a very good time, probably passing around a 750 of something good to drink. I think one of the things that is so appealing about the craft beer industry right now is it's youth. Many people working in the industry are quite young and even the old timers have a great vitality and energy.  The craft beer industry seems from the outside to be filled with happiness at a level you would surely never find in other professions. But these guys are pros, too. They smile a lot, converse generously, drink freely, but at the end of the day the job is done and done well. Pride in a job well done is crucial to being happy in your work. This seems obvious, I know, but too many people overlook it. 

I talk from time to time about how in Michigan we don't always spend much time taking pride in being who we are. When the local foods movement landed here, the food culture that surrounded it in its place of origin, the Bay Area in California, came with it. Cooking locally there meant cooking with a strong Mediterranean vibe. That's who settled the region. That's what the climate mimics. And thus, Cal-Ital is born. For some reason when Alice Waters' influence was felt here, her cooking style came with it. We asked our farmers to grow heirloom tomatoes (turns out tomatoes grow remarkably well here), we made fresh pasta, and made our own salumi. What I am beginning to discover, however, that our story, the story of the north, of pierogi, of apples, storage crops, and French and German charcuterie, is the story we should be exploring. The cooking of the north is becoming quite trendy in high end restaurants around the world as well. It is genuinely and truly fascinating. I think this is why the craft beer industry has grown into itself so successfully in Michigan, more successfully you could argue, than Michigan's wine industry.

Beer, if you buy into this lateral line of influence from Europe I'm proposing, was the alcoholic beverage of choice for the people of the North. As Michiganders, the descendants of the Germans, Dutch, Poles, French...we embraced it readily, like we were somehow predisposed to it. It came naturally and as a result, Michigan is the nation's craft beer leader (you heard right, Portland). And it is not that the North does not have a long and great tradition in winemaking, it's that the wine industry here, driven by market demand, has not until recently even begun to celebrate riesling or Gruner Veltliner. We still plant cabernet and merlot that doesn't belong here because popular tastes are so skewed toward fruit heavy big reds. In America, the great wine making traditions of the Mosel, Austria, or Alsace are often viewed as second class citizens. But this puts Michigan in a great position. If we get behind the things we do well and suit the land and climate, champion them, rise up against the prevailing tide and lead instead of follow, the wine industry here will be as unstoppable as California's.

In short, we need to take a cue from craft beer. It was not long ago that the idea of craft beer carving out a place in the market was viewed as naive at best. But Goliath fell and fell hard. It is nearly impossible to find an independently operated bar or restaurant that doesn't have at least one faucet dedicated to a local brew. It is not uncommon to find lists made up almost entirely of Michigan beers. This is success through honesty and self awareness. It works. It it will always work. It will be a guiding principal at St. Anthony. Thanks to all my friends in craft beer for lighting the path, showing us it was not so treacherous after all. A gift almost as good as great beer.