Why is it that the same people who would never in a million years drink wine from a box have no problem drinking the beer equivalent?

I have started to wonder about this over the past few years as I have explored the breadth and depth of the beer world. I remember having dinner with some co-workers a few years ago that involved sampling various high quality wines from around the world yet playing golf with the same co-workers who were satisfied with Coors Light.

So what happened to me? How did I go from not drinking at all, to occasionally having a Corona or Heineken with co-workers, to now drinking beers like Dogfish Head's 90 Minute IPA or a St. Bernardus Abt. 12 trappist ale in a chalice?

I am actually about the most unlikely beer lover you could imagine. I grew up in a Baptist family that considered alcohol as evil. In fact I didn't even touch alcohol until I was 24. Not only was I bereft of any knowledge of beer, but I didn't have any examples of real connoisseurs in my life who had taught me how to appreciate certain things. By my mid-twenties I didn't have any moral qualms about drinking alcohol but I just didn't like the taste. Or as some people said, I hadn't acquired the taste.

I found that concept rather bogus. Was I wrong!

Because of various work events, I found myself in various situations that lended themselves to having a beer on occasion. I would find myself at these sales conferences with open bars wondering what the heck am I supposed to drink. I figured that at least imports like Heineken and Corona were supposed to be better than Miller and Bud. Yet I found myself socializing with co-workers, drinking one of these beers, thinking that these people must all be nuts to drink this stuff!

Oh, but it's an acquired taste. Yes and no. I'll come back to this.

A few years later I went on a trip to Italy and learned about wine. How can you go to Italy and not have wine? Every night. Every day.

This experience was revolutionary for me. I started learning how to appreciate the subtleties of good food and drink (and cigars). Not surprisingly, this is part and parcel with maturity and growing up. Fancy that.

So for all you oenophiles out there, how much do you spend for a really good bottle of wine? Not just your regular table wine but for a special occasion? $30? $50? $100? I know that you can get really good wines for less, but most of the world-renowed wines are cost prohibitive for the average Joe. What if I told you that you could drink some of the best beers in the world for under $20 a bottle and that they have just as much complexity if more so than wine?

After discovering the joys of good wine, I started to wonder about beer. Could I really have a great experience with a beer like I had had with a high quality wine? I started to notice that some of my friends were talking about some good beers they liked. I just assumed that they had acquired a taste for nastiness. I didn't realize that the "beer" they were talking about had very little in common with what I thought beer was.

I liken this experience to how many people view coffee. Coffee has come a long way since I was a kid. Growing up, coffee was either Folgers crystals or that stuff at McDonalds that my parents drank. Yuck! We of course know now that we can get vastly superior coffee at places like LaVazza, Caribou Coffee, Peet's, or dare I say even Starbucks. For many people, the higher quality coffees seem too strong or even burnt. I believe this is because, when they think coffee, they think of the very mild, milky coffee of McDonalds or something of that ilk.

The same can be said of beer. When most people think of beer, they reflexively think of a pale lager lacking in flavor such as Bud, Miller, or Coors. Those beers are the archetype for most people. And the more a beer strays from the tried and true formula, the more uncomfortable the average person becomes. This is completely logical and understandable. If you are one of these people, I ask you to take a chance and move past your comfort zone.

So what makes a good beer? Some people mistakenly assume that you are referring to darker beer when you talk about higher quality beer. This is not necessarily the case. Some of the best beers in the world such as Duvel or Westmalle Tripel are a nice golden hue. Nor are quality beers thicker as fans of Guinness may want you to believe.

Can you taste the difference between a hamburger at McDonalds and one at a high-end restaurant or a fresh one off the grill? If so, you can taste the difference between the average American lager and a good beer. (Note: there actually are some very good American lagers such as Brooklyn Lager or a Sam Adam's Boston Lager.)

A good beer has lots of flavor. A good beer pairs with certain foods better than others, just like wine. A good beer requires a certain temperature (not all beer should be served ice cold). A good beer benefits from the proper glassware. A good beer is a suitable gift when invited to dinner at a friend's house. A good beer will make you realize that you never really knew what a beer could be.

(Written while drinking a Victory Storm King Stout)

If you are interested in starting to explore the world of beer, here are of my favorites:

Beginners

• Sierra Nevada Pale Ale
• Duvel
• Hennepin
• Unibroue La Fin Du Monde
• Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA

Intermediate

• Spaten Optimator
• Gulden Draak
• Unibroue Trois Pistoles
• Stone's Double Bastard Ale
• Alesmith IPA

Advanced

• Rochefort 10
• J.W. Lees Harvest Ale
• Dogfish Head World Wide Stout
• Westmalle Tripel
• Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA