As many of you know, I am a complete and utter fraud. Despite my lengthy tenure as a scribe of the Beer World, I am really no more entitled to do this than most other consumers. I might not even have this gig at all were it not for the unpublicized indiscretions of a certain unnamed magazine editor in a particular city in Nevada.
But here we are — you, the almost offensively attractive reader of West Coaster, and me, the huckster dispensing beery platitudes on the monthly. Just because I’ve gotten away with it doesn’t mean I think you don’t deserve better. It’s high time I deliver on it.
I took my first step on this road to redemption a little over a year ago when I, along with a small group of like-minded individuals, embarked on the quest of credentialing in the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP). Since 1985 the BJCP has been chartered to foster an enhanced understanding and appreciation of the beer styles of the world by formalizing practices for beer evaluation.
If this sounds like the foundation of some sort of beer beauty pageant to you, you’re only mostly right. The physical beauty of the beer is absolutely scrutinized from stem to stern, encompassing everything from its color and clarity to the volume of head it produces. However, that judgement is anything but superficial. Beers are held accountable to classic characteristics for their appearance, as well as aroma, flavor, and all the nuances that reside in the margins. It is an earnest attempt to map a set of subjective observations to a stylistic gold standard, exposing the soul of the brew for all to appreciate.
Another important deviation from the beauty pageant analogy is that would-be judges are evaluated with a commensurate level of strictness to the beers themselves. Anyone seeking admission to this community must first pass a rigorous online exam — 180 questions in 60 minutes! — that explores every subtle dimension of more than 100 different beer styles. Individuals emerging victorious from that gauntlet are invited to subject themselves to a 90-minute practical tasting examination overseen by several senior judges focused on sensory acuity, descriptive faculties, and thoroughness in evaluation. Long story short, it’s far simpler to talk shit on beers on Untappd, so consider your motivations before you give this a go.
While it is entirely possible to contend with the online test via obsessive study of the style guidelines alone, I don’t recommend it. Mapping all the varied aspects of each style to something memorable demands context. I found it particularly instructive to review the history of the brew style; exploring the intent of those that produced the beer and the geography that supported it can help summon a richer understanding of what made it notable in the first place. I’d also consider some supplementary reading. Randy Mosher’s Tasting Beer: An Insider’s Guide to the World’s Greatest Drink is fantastic in this regard. Most importantly, drink beer. Like, a LOT of beer. There’s no better way to cement what “characterful British yeast” or “notes of stone fruit” mean than to attempt to identify it yourself.
Preparing for the tasting exam is a much different animal. It’s one thing to memorize that a Belgian Tripel can have low to moderate spicy phenolic character, but entirely another to know what that range specifically tastes like. Calibrating your senses, as well as comprehending what perceptions you aren’t as sensitive to, is vital to deducing what resides in the glass.
You can accomplish the above with years of activity in homebrewing clubs (or gobs of drinking with your more vocal and persnickety friends), but I’ve found there’s no better way to accelerate it than regular meetups with other BJCP candidates. I recently sought this in a formal classroom setting under the tutelage of AleSmith Brewing Company head brewer (and National-ranked BJCP judge) Anthony Chen, who has been leading courses in BJCP preparation since 2015. His primary aims are both to bolster the beer judging ranks and help such individuals unlock their native abilities. “What separates a good judge from a mediocre one is the good judge has a stronger ability to connect with their individual perceptions and experiences,” he says.
The aspect of this process that has challenged me most is cultivating a more specific form of sensory communication. Verbosity isn’t usually a challenge for me, but BJCP demands more from its acolytes than to describe a beer’s aroma as “a jar packed with wet donkey farts, opened under the noontime sun.”*
BJCP evaluations leverage a more measured and mechanistic approach to unpacking a beer’s essence: identify a defining element of the brew, assign what component it was derived from, and assign it an intensity. While that may sound somewhat robotic, it is critical to building a shared language among judges and assuring all possible elements are given due attention.
My more attentive readers may have noticed that I’m being uncharacteristically coy about my progress toward BJCP certification. Rest assured, I haven’t suddenly transcended the need to crowdsource my self-esteem. The truth is that as of writing this I haven’t completed the certification. I realize that feels like a bit of an anti-climax relative to the opening of this article, but that’s by design. I wanted to put you in the goal-oriented headspace I was in when I realized how rewarding it has been just engaging in this course of study, regardless of the outcome.
I fully intend to leap this hurdle, however long it happens to take. But as intoxicating as being deputized to dispense judgement sounds, I am far more excited by the way BJCP has transformed my outlook. The process has reminded me of the myriad fantastic beer styles that I’ve been overlooking for years. It’s not only enhanced my ability to analyze a beer, but to appreciate what discrete elements of it resonate with me. It’s given me access to individuals like Mitch Tastrom, my classmate and assistant brewer at Resident Brewing, who likewise believes there are benefits well beyond certification. “I have expanded my knowledge about beer styles and have better trained my palate to pick up off flavors, dial in carbonation levels in my own beer, and dissect ingredient-specific flavor components,” he said. “This has helped to improve my approach to quality assurance with regards to processing beer in all stages of production.”
Long story short, my 2018 holiday gift guide includes urging you to take a moment to learn more about the beers you cherish enough to slog through one thousand words of my drivel. I can promise that it will only enhance what you already enjoy. And if you’re keen on finding a BJCP class, I can assure you that they are remarkably friendly to frauds.
*Note: I’ve never actually said this about a beer in print, but I’ve always wanted to. And now I have. Follow your dreams, kids.
(My many thanks to fellow West Coasterites Beth Demmon and Brian Trout for their partnership and encouragement on this endeavor. I couldn’t have made it this far without you both! I mean, I probably could have and it would have just taken a little longer, but still.)