I love beer. But I don't like just anything and everything, and I certainly didn't always love beer. In fact, if someone had said to me when I was 21 years old that someday I would daydream about owning a craft beer and international beer import/export company, I would have laughed.
Back in those days, before wine was discovered and it was beer vs. "girly drinks", on any given weekend friends would get together, and like good Buffalonians, they would work their way through a case or two of one brewski or another. I'm pretty sure that "Quantity over quality" was the modus operandi back then. Meanwhile, even though I really didn't like the stuff, to save face I made an attempt to fortify a manly image (beer puts hair on your chest, you see). And while I did my best to make it look like I was enjoying the beer in hand, I was in fact doing my best to tolerate as many as I could before inevitably having to throw in the towel and move on to something else. I'm pretty sure I was usually only able to get through two, on average. I even tried to convince myself that if I was persistent, I would eventually grow to like beer, just like everyone else.
Years went by and eventually I moved to Tokyo, Japan. One fine, cold, late winter's evening, while wandering around, aimlessly exploring my new neighborhood, I found a welcoming-looking little liquor store with a big glass front and an interior that glowed pleasantly with warm lighting and all natural woodwork (not common in Tokyo). So I ventured in. The owner turned out to be extremely friendly and through a mix of his broken English and my even-worse-Japanese, we began talking about Japanese sake and beer. It turned out that his true love was Belgian beer. He introduced me to his nice little collection of international beers. He stocked a handful of beers from Belgium, a few popular and well-known beers from elsewhere in Europe, and a couple of America's better mainstream brews. We talked for awhile and before I knew it, in adventurous spirit I found myself trading ¥800 JPY (roughly $8US) for a single bottle of Trappistes Rochefort 10, (Belgium). To make a long story short, that little trade turned out to be one of the best ventures that I've ever made. Rochefort 10 instantly became my favorite beer, and forever altered my understanding of what beer is, and perhaps more importantly, what beer can be. I am now constantly on the hunt for amazing beers, beers that change perceptions and broaden horizons.
Rochefort 10 is my Home Run Brew. What's yours?
