Before we delve into beer arcana and probe the limitless depths of the LvA debate, let's wax historically.
The world's greatest minds generally agree that beer arrived fashionably late in human evolution somewhere around 9000 B.C. (based on context clues) or 3500 B.C. (based on chemical evidence). Whatever; it's old.
To be sure, the Babylonians definitely got crunk. Beer gets a shout-out in the Code of Hammurabi (c. 1750 B.C.), which prescribed a hearty ration of beer to the good drinker and a particularly ironic drowning regimen to the bad brewer:
108. If a tavern-keeper (feminine) does not accept corn according to gross weight in payment of drink, but takes money, and the price of the drink is less than that of the corn, she shall be convicted and thrown into the water.
The contemporary conception of beer--a blessed, boozy trinity of hops, barley, and water--did not strike the ancients as particularly intuitive. Brewers throughout history have used various recipes incorporating fruits, herbs, honey, and various adjuncts in order to produce a panoply of quaffable products. Grapes, honey, and saffron can be found in Dogfishhead's Midas Touch, which is a throwback to 2700 BC--it's brewed from a recipe found in King Midas' tomb.
While yielding a viable product with plenty of nutrients, taste, and inhibition-lowering potential, these ancient recipes lacked a key ingredient. I saw on a History Channel special that shelf-life was generally about a week or so. This wouldn't do. As the perfect alternative to fetid, contaminated well water, beer needed something to keep it from expiring so quickly. In the 1500s, hops become a potent preservative, thanks to innovative German monks and their dedication to beer. While on Lenten fasts, monks fortified their diets with hearty helpings of duds, establishing them as some of the most experienced craftsman in the art of brewing. Indeed, to this day, seven monasteries produce the world's only true Trappist style ales.
Sometime during the Middle Ages, a schism in the beer kingdom began to avail itself. Two beer types diverged and proliferated and went on to garner distinct and very unique identities. The rift wasn't a matter of graven images or contract theory or a bunch of theses nailed to church doors, just a tiny little microorganism called yeast.
Ales
The word Ale might instantly summon images and memories of India pale ale (IPA), the hoppy, bitter, and more alcoholic beer that you either love or hate. However, Ale's phylogenetic tree is vast and diverse, encompassing a gallimaufry of styles like:
Altbier- a German beer with medium to high bitterness without too much else to write home about.
Brown Ale- a British beer with hardly any bitterness, a generous amount of sweet maltiness
Lambic- a Belgian sour beer made from large amounts of unmalted wheat with a complex fruity palate
Stout- an Irish version of Britain's Porter style (also an ale) made from roasted malt, typically associated with heft, coffee, chocolate, and men.
Wheat Beer- German beers made with lots of wheat malt that go down great; best served in a boot.
Ales are top-fermented, meaning that the yeast sits at the top of the fermentation vessel and most of the fermentation happens here. They're typically fermented at warm temperatures (59-75 degrees F) anywhere from 3 weeks to several months. Due to the warmth of the brewing environs, ale yeasts kick out a lot esters, which are compounds typically associated with flowery and fruity tastes. Esters are super complex, which helps explain why ales are so varied and discernibly different in taste, smell, and mouthfeel.
Notable yeast strains used in ale brewing include Saccharomyces cervisiae and, to a much lesser extent, Brettanomyces. Brettanomyces is used in only a few styles, such as Lambics, because it's actually a contaminant, a wild yeast strain that can lend a band-aid or barnyard-like taste to the beer. However, it also has some counterbalancing virtues, like infusing the beer with hints of bacon, spice, and clove that make Lambics so unique. Want to rate your favorite strain of Brettanomyces? Go here, ya geek!
Lagers
A Lager can be defined as a beer brewed at cooler temperatures with yeast at the bottom. "Lagering" might not be prevalent in your everyday vernacular, but it refers to the cold storage of beer (Lager is German "to store"). Lagers emerged late on the scene in history. The invention of refrigeration enabled brewers to capitalize on a finicky, genetically mutated Saccharomyces species that worked well in low, stable temperatures. While Lager yeast requires more attention (even a 1 degree change in temperature during fermentation can drastically alter taste and alcohol content), it opens up a portal to an entirely new realm of beer drinking.
Lower-temperature fermentation yields less esters and phenols, leading to a reduction in fruity notes and medicinal tastes. Drinkability is not only the slogan of a popular pale lager (cough, Bud Light, cough), it's the reason why so much lager is consumed at Oktoberfest and Nascar. Lagers can be drunk by the gallon, whereas the palatial complexity of ales make them great companions to the steady, appreciative drinker.
A colder beer also means more dextrins. These are the unfermentable components of the malt that imbue the beer with added mouthfeel and taste. If you're like 90% of America that drinks lager beers, you're probably not used to these characteristics, having grown up with Natty Light and Bud Light. But one swig of a big-bodied, cloying Doppelbock will have you quickly doubting its relation to Miller, Budweiser, and Coors products.
While we're on the subject, let me call out some of the great Lager styles
Bock- a strong, russet-colored, German beer with toasty notes and plenty of heft (about as close to liquid bread as lagers come).
Eisbock- a subgenre of Bock, the Eisbock is created when a bock is cooled down so that ice crystals begin to form (freeze distillation). These are then scooped out, yielding a more concentrated beer (in taste and alcohol). Ever heard of Natty Ice? It's an Eisbock. Don't start to cast aspersions on a very regal beer style...we'll call Natty Ice "The prodigal son who'll never return."
Malt Liquor- Surprised? Due to some technical definitions, any lager with more than 5% alcohol should be called Malt Liquor.
Pilsner- a Czech beer with medium bitterness, medium body, and full flavor
So that's the beer world according to a Manichaean. Lagers and Ales. But the fun doesn't stop here. As I indicated, the styles of lagers and ale are virtually limitless, and the diversity of tastes within these genres is readily discernible. Scientists have isolated over 1000 distinct flavors in beer, which is way more then wine. And the tastes will continue to diversify, with brewers like Dogfishhead adding essences, extracts, and whole foods into their brew kettles; scientists cross-pollinating different species of hops to unleash new strains into the market; and breweries continually tweaking and revamping the brewing process. This is a good era in which to live.
The vibrancy and innovation of the beer industry has engendered an affordable and versatile product befitting of every taste under the sun. Maybe that's why, every year, the world drinks enough beer to fill 60,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools. I've written this article by looking at beer from 36,000 feet--breaking it down into simply Lagers vs. Ales--so that you can hopefully make the first step towards finding your preference. Get adventurous. Beer is unique, beer is vital, and beer is good.
