The Beer Professor Is In

So many questions, so little time. Now I know how Dick Vitale feels every March.
Well, maybe not quite to that extent, but a little hyperbolic overstatement never hurt anybody.

I'm going to take you on a brief world tour of beer, covering the highlights and some of the lowlights that the brewing world has to offer. No passport required. So sit back, pop open a beer, brewski, cold one, whatever, and enjoy. Glass optional.
And for your sake (since this amounts to a beginner's lesson), I'll try to keep the highlights in the less-obscure range, since it wouldn't make any sense to recommend a beer you can't find.

Europe
England (including Ireland and Scotland)
It's tempting to think of all English beers as a Guinness (technically it's Irish, but that's splitting hairs), but that's far from the case. Although many of them share some of the finer qualities of that dark stout, they come with their own unique deviations. Most English brews will be ales, with some stouts mixed in. The carbonation bubbles are much smaller, making for a much thicker head. Many rookies mistake this as being "flat," but that's not the case. English draught beers are meant to be stored and consumed at a warmer temperature, which keeps more of the carbonation in the mixture.
Most English beers hover around 3.5 to 5% alcohol by volume (Guinness is about 4).
Scotch beers, also called Scottish beers, do not contain any actual Scotch. They're a richer, darker ale, typically higher in alcohol than a pale ale (which tend to be lighter and better in the summer months).
Highlights: Fullers, Coniston, Samuel Smith, Youngs

(Author's note: Hey kids, while we're here looking at Big Ben and Parliament, make sure to notice the different spellings in the words "draught" and "drought." The former is the original English spelling of the American word "draft" [same pronunciation], the latter refers to a lack of rain. So don't be "that guy" in the bar who fucks it up)

Germany
My favorite German style is the hefeweiss beer (German 101: hefe = yeast, weiss = wheat). You'll notice that it's cloudier than other styles. This is because it's unfiltered. Straight from the bottle, you'll see some sediment at the bottom-- don't worry, this is natural. Properly poured, the bartender will give you about 90% of the bottle, then spin it with his palms (like you're rubbing your palms together, except with a bottle in there) before giving you the remaining 10%.
On tap, a bartender will often throw a lemon slice on top of the glass. The acidity of the lemon breaks down the head more easily, so you can enjoy the beer more quickly. Of course, this is kind of an asshole move on his part, since nobody should ever need a fruit to enjoy a good beer. If he asks, politely decline. If he doesn't ask, just put the lemon on your napkin. No harm done.
The Germans also have a few more styles, which vary from what we know as lagers to some much heavier "smoked" beers that taste more like a slab of bacon than anything else (which sounds gross, but can actually be pretty good with the right meal).
Lagers, the most well-known German style, are lighter and meant to be enjoyed at colder temperatures, which is why your lager mug has a handle-- you don't want the heat from your hand to affect the temperature of the beer.
Highlights: Warsteiner, Schlenkerla, Paulaner

Czech
The Czech town of Pilsen is the birthplace of the style now known as the pilsener. The original beer made here was simply called "Pilsener" after the town, but it became so popular that other breweries across Europe started adopting the style (and the name) as their own. The brewmasters there decided to stake their claim to the style, deciding finally on the name, Pilsener Urquell ("urquell" being Czech for "original").

Belgium
Beer is to the Belgians what wine is to the French. They enjoy it in an manner that is truly their own. The typical Belgian beer, on first taste, will feel more like a champagne than a beer. It's lighter but more harshly carbonated, and the alcohol content is well above what you're used to. Belgian beers age well, often having yeast in the bottle so it will "bottle-ferment," and actually grow stronger (and better) with age, as opposed to going "skunk." Many Belgians will come in a larger bottle, and most will have a cork instead of a metal cap.
Unfortunately, due to the delicate nature in which the Belgian beers are prepared, the Average Joe won't have the budget for a whole party's worth. A few bottles here and there won't break you though.
A lambic is a type of Belgian ale that doesn't really taste a whole lot like beer. Sometimes these are fruit flavored and sweet (Lindeman's Framboise, for one, is like raspberry soda), but can also be very sour. Odd. But worth trying.
There's a brewery out in Cooperstown, NY called Ommegang, which does a better job at brewing in the traditional Belgian style than many contemporary brewers in Belgium itself. These beers, usually found in 4-packs, are a lot easier on your wallet. So if you're not quite ready for Brussels yet, start yourself off on those.
Highlights: Corsendonk, McChouffe, Abbaye, Rochefort, Chimay

Asia
To put it mildly, beer isn't really the Asians' thing. That's not a knock on them by any means, since you can find a few good beers from there... but it's like soccer in the US. Yeah, we know it's there, but really, it's not our thing.
Usually, Asian beers are consumed more for novelty purposes than anything else. You know, so you can tell your friends, "Hey, look at me, I'm having a Tsingtao!" (brewed in the PRC). They seldom come across as anything more than average, although there are still a few good ones (read: expensive ones) to be had.
Highlights: Hitachino (Japan)
(Author's addendum: If you're seriously thinking about delving into the beer selection from the PRC, you should probably read this first. You've been warned)

South America
Again, as in Asia, beer isn't really their thing. I spent a semester in Martinique (island north of Venezuela), and the locals were far more proud of their selection of sugar cane rum than any cheap Caribbean knock-off brew. I can't recommend anything from this region with a straight face, as it all comes off feeling like a watered-down Corona, and that's reeeeeeal bad.

North America
Mexico
South of the border, you can find two of the finer breweries in the entire continent. Unfortunately, the output of these two breweries pale in comparison to Mexico's shame, the beer known as Corona. Your first clue that you're drinking piss from a tequila bar is that they recommend fruit in the beer. This should raise some eyebrows. Look, if you were in McDonald's, and they said, "You're probably going to want a cheeseburger on top of those McNuggets," you'd stay away from the McNuggets. They know they have an inferior product and they're not subtle about it. And the funny thing is, everyone who drinks this crap already knows it! Want proof? Show me a person who drinks Corona without the lime.
On the other hand, if you can find a Carta Blanca or a Negra Modelo, you're in luck. Many chain faux-Mexican restaurants will feature these brews, so if you can dig around on the menu underneath Corona's ubiquitous Cinqo de Mayo ads, give those a try.
Other highlights: Dos Equis

Canada
You already know most of the major Canadian bulk brewers, because they're just as loud as the American counterparts. So I'm just going to take this time to talk about a brewery called Unibroue, which makes a fantastic selection you can't find anywhere else. Labeled mostly in French, they make lighter but stronger (closer to Belgian) styled ales, often with a far higher alcohol content than seen elsewhere (yes, higher than Molson XXX). The artwork on the bottles stands out (almost a contemporary gothic style), and they even suggest the glass to pour it in right on the label. Helpful folks.
Other Canadian beers also tend to be stronger in alcohol than their American cousins, partly because of the weather, partly to numb the pain from a wayward slapshot.

United States
Because we got such a late start, the American brewers just bastardized the existing types of beers from Europe, slapped a new label on it, and called it domestic. There is, however, one style of a truly American beer (i.e. a style born here, in the States). It comes from the Anchor brewing company in San Francisco, and is known as a "Steam" beer. Their bottles aren't hard to pick out of a lineup (they're shorter than most), so grab a 6er next time you're at the store, and you'll have a distinctly American beer in your hands... then in your stomachs... then...well, you know the rest.
In spite of the lack of style originality in the country, there are tons and tons of deviations on the existing styles to be found. American craft breweries love to spice it up by mixing in different flavors and cross-breeding styles (this applies to a bunch of Canadian breweries as well). Sometimes this works, sometimes it falls flat. But on the whole, it adds a much-welcomed variation into the market. You're not going to find this with the major players, but take a look around the back corners of your beverage center and you'll be pleasantly surprised.
The Rogue brewery, out of Oregon, has yet to produce a beer I don't like. Same with Saranac (Utica, NY), Magic Hat (Burlington, VT), Smuttynose (Portsmouth, NH), Dogfish Head (Delaware) and Stone (San Diego, CA). I know, I'm missing a lot-- there is absolutely no shortage of good beer here, so be creative when buying.
Then, of course, there's the bad beer. And that's where we have Coors light. Where to start? Coors is very much like Corona where they know they have a bad beer on their hands. How can you tell? Again, it's with the advertising. More specifically, in this new "cold" campaign they have. It's the stupidest thing I've ever seen, defying science and logic. Fact: the colder a beer is, the less you're going to taste it. This is why Coors insists on you drinking their beer at around 32 degrees, whereas most other beers are meant to be enjoyed at upwards of 40. Fact: the colder a beer is, the more the balance of carbon dioxide will be upset, resulting in a much flatter beer once it's opened. Fact: beer is not brewed cold, it's boiled. So the end result is a flat, tasteless, watered-down "beer" with the approximate testosterone level of the Lilith fair. Oh, wait, but at least it's cold. Like that makes it better. Which is why I keep saying, friends don't let friends drink Coors light.

(Author's addendum: An important fact that I brushed over in the interest of bashing Coors: Fact: Yes, cold beer does in fact keep longer than warm beer. Although for the bulk domestics, the transit period isn't long enough to make a difference. So that "shipped cold" chatter is just nonsense. Same with "a fresher beer." Realistically you're fine within a few months, if not longer for some. Better beers are best stored at cellar temperatures, which are below room temps, but above freezer temps. And I'm not getting into that stuff in this chapter.)

Conclusion
There's no such thing as a bad beer until you've tried it, so go out, drink responsibly (read: no Coors), and don't be afraid to experiment. With beer too.

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