BEERS OUTSIDE

One of the more pleasant aspects of this summer was re-discovering how delicious a cold beer is when consumed outdoors.  Because of the myriad restrictions on indoor seating at virtually every eating and drinking establishment in the USA, I spent my summer under a tent or tree or out in the sun eating and drinking.  I hope you did the same.  

A perfect beer garden site.

A perfect beer garden site.

Autumn Arch set up a tiny “beer garden” in the parking lot this summer.  We never planned to do this other than for beer festivals a couple times a year, but due to the COVID situation, we (and every other business that depends on people gathering socially) were forced to pivot our approach to seating.  And thus, the Autumn Arch Biergarten was born.

The first “biergartens” popped up in Munich in the 1800s.  They were the result of crafty Bavarian brewers, who wanted to keep their underground beer cellars (where lagering was taking place) as cool as possible in the warm summer months.  So they started planting densely canopied trees to shade the ground above their subterranean beer storage.  This is the kind of good quality control practice that I can get behind.  #green

It wasn’t very long before loads of Bavarians were hanging out under the shade of said trees tipping back liter steins of Helles or Pilsner while enjoying the summer afternoons with family and friends (sans social distancing of course….while these brewers were ahead of their time in terms of beer quality, modern germ theory was still fringe science).

Zoom to the present day:  we East Coasters tend to spend all our time indoors within temperature and humidity controlled environments.  But the summer of COVID19 provided an opportunity to get back outside, 1800s style.  I certainly didn’t waste it.

A pretty decent biergarten.

A pretty decent biergarten.

Sure, the sweating while sitting is a little annoying, but there pleasant coolness that comes with sitting very still and sipping a cold beer.  Condensation hugs the glass, cicadas buzz in the surrounding trees, and I take a small measure of pleasure in the moment despite the most bizarre/tragic/unforgettable summer of our lifetimes.