Of national pride and the beer wars
Good Grief! I’m actually writing about beer. I don’t even drink beer anymore, though I occasionally lust after just one sip of a hefty German brew. But only if it is well chilled and served in a frosted glass, my version of Bond’s martini “shaken not stirred.”
So what’s all the angst over Budweiser acquiring Belgian foster parents? Is it misplaced patriotism? I mean the country didn’t disintegrate last month when Arab sheikhs bought the Chrysler Building in New York. Economists seemed to praise that as a welcome influx of foreign capital during a dreary economy.
It’s true that more Americans have raised a Bud than have ever set foot in the Chrysler Building, but that’s not the point. Both are considered icons of the nation’s culture (I use the word with a caveat: that is, an irrational affection for very tall buildings and watery beverages of indiscernible flavor).
The hue and cry about losing an American icon came not in June, when InBev launched an unsolicited $46.3 billion takeover offer for American brewer Anheuser Busch. Both industry giants sought refuge in the courts: InBev wanting to oust Anheuser’s board and replace it with its own, plus one Busch-family member; Anheuser filing suit in U.S. Federal Court criticizing the Belgian conglomerate for its operations in Cuba.
One columnist even suggested it was a bad idea because the Belgians “are suspiciously tight with the French” and wouldn’t join our coalition of the willing to fight in Iraq. Does this mean we’re going back to “freedom fries?”
In the end, it appeared to be all about money (what isn’t these days?) with InBev sweetening its offer of $65 a share. The “king of beers” will not disappear from supermarket shelves, and it will still be brewed and bottled in St. Louis, they say, though Belgium currently brews and exports some really tasty beer.
The naming of hundreds of brews defies logic and seems to be classified according to taste rather than country of origin. New Belgium makes a French style ale, among other types, but it is brewed in Colorado. Gottberg is made in Nebraska, while St. Pauli Girl (one of my old favorites available here for at least half a century) is part of Beck’s Brewery in Bremen, Germany.
Lowenbrau, imported originally from Munich, Germany, suffered an appalling change in taste when it was, for a long time, produced for the U.S. market by Miller, then later in Canada. Now, we’re once again getting the real deal direct from Germany and the flavor has been magically restored.
Long ago, when I was training horses and working off way more calories than I was taking in, I became so thin that relatives worried about my health. I was already eating six times a day without gaining an ounce. A doctor suggested that I drink one glass of beer or stout at bedtime. Not a fan of American beer, I went on a search for something with taste, a sharp bite and just the right amount of carbonation. It was obvious I would have to go across the pond to find what I wanted. Heineken, Lowenbrau (the original German version), Beck’s and St. Pauli Girl made the cut. Guinness Stout was just too, well, stout. The doctor was right. I gained 10 pounds in two weeks. How scary is that?
An age-related metabolic adjustment finally shifted my bedtime beverage from beer to steamed milk, with just a pinch of raw sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla. Equally as relaxing but much kinder to one’s girth.
Anyway, what concerns me most is what will happen to the iconic Budweiser Clydesdale horses and the beautifully restored old beer wagon they pull in the ads that made Bud the king. If national pride trumps proven advertising success, the horses might be replaced with Belgian draft horses. About the same size but a different color, they are said to be of the same gentle disposition and muscle as their close relatives. And, of course, the Clydesdales are not an American breed anyway, tracing their lineage to Scotland.
But with the downturn in the economy the last thing we need is a small herd of giant equines on unemployment. Hay prices are rising almost as fast as a liter of petrol, so even a well-meaning animal activist would be hard pressed to adopt one of the gentle giants.
Let’s hope InBev is more concerned with profits, based on proven ad campaigns and American taste, than their own national pride.
And if ultimately they feel compelled to ratchet up the taste of Bud, well, I’d be the last to complain.