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A BEER STORY
A Bottle of Beer From the Black Forest Threw Me For a Loop
Took me two hours to drink
Forty years ago, I stepped into the first-class cabin of a Lufthansa flight. I was en route from NYC to Frankfurt. My final destination was Pakistan. I was starting a three-week work trip abroad.
As soon as I got settled, the Steward took my preflight drink order, which I enjoyed.
Once we were airborne, he came over and said:
My uncle owns a brewery in the Black Forest. I have a case of his latest and newest production product. Would you like one?
I happily agreed and was excited to be tasting a first-run brew.
As soon as I took a sip, my throat tightened, my tongue protested, and my mouth wanted to spit it out.
But with respect and dignity for the guy who would be my host for the next eight hours, I swallowed it. Luckily, he didn’t see me flinch.
The beer was the most vile, disgusting brew I had ever tasted. It was as if the brewmaster had taken gasoline and mixed it with a colonoscopy prep.
Before you start telling me that German beers have different flavor profiles and are stronger and more intense than American beers, I knew that. I had been drinking…
