Fred Tasker, The Miami Herald

January 30, 2004

Fred Tasker

The Miami Herald

RE: Beer, Shakespeare, “de gustibus...” - Your tasty tract about beer in yesterday’s Herald.

Mr. Tasker:

“Light beer”? An oxymoron with which I will have nothing to do.

How can Gablinger’s have gone down the memory drain so completely and so suddenly? It was brewed by the Rheingold Brewery in Orange, New Jersey in the mid to late 1960s. Among other of their products was a catchy tune, “My beer is Rheingold the dry beer....”. And, of course, the Miss Rheingold contest. It was billed as a diet beer a la Tab. I bought a six pack and drank one. I dumped the other five. The father of a close friend, a fraternity brother, whom I have not spoken to in more than 10 years for whatever reason, was the head of sales for Rheingold. He would get us some of the non-diet suds from time to time.

A century ago Newark and surrounding Essex County had 100 breweries. It was the water. A lament that all New Jersey émigrés bewail constantly when they arrive here. There is but one left about which more later.

Shakespeare’s line from Henry the Sixth about “killing all the lawyers” is well known. Like most things quoted but seldom read it is the line before that is more important. “I shall make it a crime to drink small beer.” Even then those despoilers of tradition were peddling their wares. All serious readers of Shakespeare know that “small beer” was the Elizabethan equivalent of “light beer”.

The sad fact that the gates of Traquhair Brewery are still closed is yet one more reason to mourn the passing of Charles the First the anniversary of whose beheading in 1649 we mourn today. Perhaps lifting a pint would be order. Or two.

One more point.

Anyone attempting to smuggle any Anheuser-Busch product of any type or name - including the nuts - into my house will be throttled and dealt with severely. Very severely. As in “I see you like to shake hands with your foot, peckerhead.”

At the reception following my daughter’s wedding Anheuser-Busch products were banned as a condition of contract. “Why?”, asked the banquet manager. “3 reasons. #1 - The beer is terrible. #2 - The company is terrible. #3 - It’s my party.”

“Done that way,” said he.

If, as you say, “beer wenches” make $70 an hour waiting in line for beer at Australian cricket matches, is there any chance that my wife and I could qualify as the first “beer wench-beer dude” Yankee ex-pats down under? Other than our son Sean, AKA “The World Famous Lawyer” and our electrician, nobody makes $70 an hour.

And where are the snows of yesteryear when growlers with butter rubbed on the edge to keep the head down and plumber’s helpers were rites of passage in Bayonne, New Jersey, a legendary beer town. The Speedway, where Billy kept a book on open tabs. It was 5 years between visits - a wife, a child, another child - and when I walked in the first thing he did was get the book. My slate was clean.

Other places of note were Harry’s at Hanover Square in downtown Manhattan. I was one of an elite clique that got tossed out of Harry’s in Venice for asking why I couldn’t use my tab at Harry’s NY there. The Cornerstone in Carlstadt, NJ, particularly after Frank got rid of Jerry makes the short list also. Places where the beer was fresh, cold, and served well.

When my son was growing up in West Orange, NJ there were many places to get a drink. There were Damn few saloons. And there were far fewer flowing taps. I always felt I failed him there. His sister wound up running a great beer place - great if 20 flowing taps begin to constitute greatness - McDuffie’s, in Tempe, Arizona.

“More good has come from an inn, sir, than any other invention of mankind.”

A great article, sir.