Beer - Grains With Benefits or Canada's Hidden Freshwater Supply?

 Okay, let's get one thing out of the way right from the beginning: beer is NOT a health food.  I know - I wanted it to be true too!  Sorry, but that's just the truth.  Still, you might be clutching your favorite brewski like it's kale juice with tiny bubbles, and you wouldn't be the only one. But here's one way to know for sure it's not a health food:  there are no hipsters to be found having a tailgate party at Whole Foods with their six-packs of "locally sourced barley hydration."  However, it has been touted as a healthy choice throughout it's cozy existence as one of man's best friends.  So, let's take a journey on frothy waves into the golden, red, pale, blonde or stout black glass of lies we've all chosen to sip from.

Liquid Bread:  A Balanced Diet Includes All Food Groups, Right?

Once upon a medieval time, beer was considered "liquid bread."  Monks brewed it to provide nourishment and sustenance during fasts (loophole!)  They called it necessary, we call it happy hour.  These devout fellows made their beer thick, rich, even possibly a little chewy - like hot cereal with a head.  And in all fairness, there may have been some logic to it:  It had calories, nutrients, and in many cases was probably safer to drink than the stuff from the nearest well, river or stream. Their list of options was:

A - dysentery

B - cholera

C - drinking the bath water, or

D - getting day drunk in the name of hydration

Guess which ones our friends of yore chose. (I'll take what's behind curtain #4, Wayne)

Jump ahead to 2025, and you'll still occasionally hear some pub crawler whisper "it's got B-vitamins" as they slowly slide off their barstool and head for the restroom, still clutching that handful of free peanuts. Technically, it's true, beer does contain trace nutrients.  That's trace, as in, 74 pints in and you've reached your daily magnesium supply.  By that point, you've already reached your daily liver-calling-you-dirty-names quota.

Let's just lay the cards on the table: beer is a socially acceptable way to consume liquid carbs while pretending the diet is working and we're being "cultured."  Which for some is a fancy way of saying, "this IPA pairs beautifully with my desire to not go home yet."

The Great Grain Excuse

Beer is made from grains, which are good.  Therefore, beer is good.

This logic makes sense if you also believe bacon-wrapped sausage is a wholesome breakfast because "pigs eat grain, too."  The brewing process begins with malted barley, which we could fool ourselves into thinking is nutritionally beneficial because there's basically the same thing in granola. Then they throw in the hops, which are flowers, so now they've added vegetables.

At this point, beer is a salad. 

The next step in the process is fermentation.  That's science - and if science is involved, it has to be healthy, right?  It gives us yogurt and sauerkraut.  It also gives us kombucha, kimchi and a lot of other things bought by smug people at farmers markets for nine dollars a thimble.  Naturally, then, it must fit right in next to the probiotic asparagus and licorice green tea.  We just have to ignore the part where it's aged in stainless steel tanks and served cold enough to freeze your inhibitions.

And who could discount the bubbles?  Ah, the bubbles.  Carbonation is a theme park for your mouth.  That's what I tell myself when I try that micro-brewery stout that you can stand a spoon in and tastes like burnt almonds.

Canada: The Unsung Hero of Hydrated Hilarity

No conversation about beer could go by without talking about Canada. No, not about their healthcare system or how polite the world thinks they are. More like, about the fact that they have a suspiciously high comedian per capita rate.  That has to be a direct correlation, doesn't it? It has to have something to do with their beer; you see, Canada doesn't just drink beer - they are beer.

Here's a fun fact: Canada has 20% of the worlds freshwater, and 7% of the worlds renewable freshwater supply.  Yes, 7%.  Of the world. That's such an astronomical amount, what else would you do with it?  I'm not saying beer is just distilled lake juice but...I'm also not saying that either. Maybe the larger breweries just truck barrels straight out of the Great Lakes with giant bendy straws.

Canadian beer is a hearty and proud institution; one that's often enjoyed in wintry conditions while sitting next to a fellow parka-bedecked Canuck who has a better than average chance of being named Gord.  A fellow Canadian who realizes that those knitted gloves with the fold over mitten tops were designed to enable the easier manipulation of the twist-off bottlecap.  Yes, Canadian beer is a national identity disguised as a tasty beverage. I've heard rumors they're thinking of changing the maple leaf to a barley sprig.  Canadians and beer are like moose and a flannel onesie: they may not perfectly fit, but man, do they like each other's company. Beauty, eh? 

So here's a theory:  Canada isn't hoarding freshwater - they're generously sharing it...one 2-4 at a time.  (24 bottle case, folks)  Sub-theory: What would the Canadian lumber industry be without it's big, burly lagers?  Yeah??  Lagers...loggers...see what I did there?

...I'll let myself out.

How Much Water Is in This Water?

Let's dive into some facts for a moment.  It takes about 75 litres of water to produce a single pint of beer.  That's about what it takes to put out a campfire in a provincial park on Labor Day weekend.  Multiply that by daily consumption on a global level, and you come to the realization that there may not be that big a mystery when it comes to receding lake levels.

Let's do a little math.  Now, don't panic; it won't be fact-checked, scholastic math - I'm a writer.

1 pint = 75 litres of water.

6-pack = 450 litres of water.

A weekend BBQ with friends and family = a small lake's worth of water.

NHL hockey playoffs = the Pacific basin.

Makes you take stock, doesn't it?  Or at least a bath before the water runs out (a.k.a the Toronto Maple Leafs make it past the second round.)

Sustainable Sippin'

Some breweries are trying to be more sustainable by reclaiming water, switching to solar energy, or planting a tree for every beer sold to a frat house; and that is truly noble.  Maybe it will do some good.  But, it won't help me to forget that I just basically downed a muffin in liquid form.

Technically, I could drink water I guess.  Alas, the middle aged guy trying to start his own brewery and aging his product in old whiskey barrels needs to make a living, too.  To be perfectly honest, my beer consumption isn't that large.  I might buy a 2-4 at the beginning of summer, and have enough left over to share with friends come October.  I do recognize its value, however, in making such social interactions 44.92% easier.  Science probably said that.  Or my son at trivia night.

Beer Logic: The Gateway to Wild Justifications

Beer may be the only beverage that has a fan base willing to give themselves mental and emotional post traumatic stress in order to justify its existence.

"It's basically bread, so...a meal on it's own.  That's diet food."

"It's got hops - those are plants."  Basically a retelling of first point.

"It supports local business."

"I'm just tasting the notes, not drinking.  Tasting!!!"

"It's only 5%.  That's barely even alcohol."

If brown beans had the same fanatic fan club, we'd be greeting each other with flatulence and social distancing. Yes, beer people are passionate.  And you gotta love 'em for that.

Homebrewing: Because Who Wouldn't Want Kumquat IPA?

Every beer lover at some point thinks to themselves, I could make this myself.  The ones who go through with it are courageous.  The ones who go through with it and try to sell their product have the same disposition as those who say things like "I'll just cut my own hair," or "how hard could racing in the Indy be?"

A homebrewing recipe starts simple enough: some malt, a little hops and a few sterilized bottles. But then you add the dreams...and that's when experimentation begins.  Experimentation is where logical thinking when it comes to flavor pairings goes to die.  You begin with a simple ale but find yourself googling how to imitate the flavors of roast beef and hibiscus with everyday products you find in the basement.

Here are some highlights from the weird world of homebrew (and sometimes micro-brewery) flavors that maybe shouldn't exist (you decide):

Jalapeno-Mango Wheat Explosion:  tropical vacation in your mouth complete with third degree burns

Smoked Oyster Stout:  sometimes you just want a beer that tastes like low tide and brine

Peanut Butter Pickle Porter:  I don't know who hurt you as a child, but please stop.

Clove-Infused Cabbage Saison:  Oktoberfest; if Oktoberfest was an old East German assassin named Rolf

Beard Yeast Pale Ale:  You read that right.  Yeast harvested from an actual brewers beard.  We're done here.

Okay, so full disclosure:  I made one of those up.  And if you're thinking it's the beard yeast one?  Get ready for night terrors.  It seems reality is far more hilarious than parody when it comes to homebrewing.  Those who make such brews do so with the full realization that they're only half a mad scientist away from global domination.  

Synopsis:  Homebrewing is where creativity meets the science of chemistry and tells it to sit down and shut up!

The Final Pour: Grains With Benefits or a Cry For Help?

So where did we end up?

Beer is not a health food but neither is it a dietary death sentence.  It's made from plants, water, and science.  Consumed in moderation, it pairs beautifully with fire pits, friends, and meals eaten outdoors.  It's not the kale smoothie of the alcohol world, but it is a celebration of fermentation.  It's a love letter to barley.  It's probably Canada's most appreciated export after Ryan Reynolds.

Take a minute to ponder the fact that beer is what you want it to be: a treat, a reward, a ritual, or a reminder that sometimes the best things in life come with foam on top.  If you see it as "grains with benefits" or as just filtered (possibly Canadian) lake water in a bottle doesn't really matter.  One thing's for sure:

It goes down a lot smoother with friends.