Guinness is an acquired taste

And I have happily acquired it. This might seem sad to some, but it’s taken me up until yesterday that I have my first, real taste of Guinness. It was my father-in-law who has opened my eyes up to this new experience. I think that’s the only way to sum up this first, and far from the last, chance. They say that it’s good for you, too. I say, bonus!

For years now, I’ve been less than a fan of beer. That whole time, people have told me about the differences between good and bad brews. I’ve never doubted this, and there are times where I have backed down from my stance. More than likely, it was when the price was right, meaning free. Quality, on the other hand, has long been lacking.

Every so often, I would feel nostalgic for my days in Japan, grab some spicy tuna rolls, and pick up a liter of Sapporo after a long day at the radio station. Now I live within walking distances of numerous sushi bars with more Asian brews that I probably still don’t know exist. I can’t fail to mention the soft spot that Asahi has in my heart, and that other brand that had kanji all over it except for the one phrase in english, “Good Value and Quality,” which is what I have referred to it as since. Beer machines on the street and long train rides are responsible for my low level knowledge of Japanese brews.

To say that I like beer is too broad of a statment. I’m finding pale ales to be among more of my favorite, and it really comes down to enjoying, not chugging, a pint that isn’t just suds and water. This is combined with the truth that I have discovered from moving above the 49th. Canadian beer is some good stuff, Granville Island and Okanagan Spring being my top favorites. Guinness, obviously not Canadian, gets a slot towards the top.