Behind Enemy Lines The Busch Years

Author: Andrey Tolstoy

College, I gather, is a formative experience for the young Americans who elect to take part in this fine tradition. It is a place where they not only acquire a deeper and broader understanding of the world around them, but also learn savvy social skills, explore one another's anatomy and develop stamina for the ingestion of animal end-products referred to by some as "beer." As the representative of a nation most arbitrarily selected as the world's symbol for alcoholism, I cannot hide my anxiety regarding this last fact.

Every time I see a $50,000 suburban assault vehicle pull up to Adirondack Circle and discharge four freshmen laden with 30-racks of light beverage, I lose a good portion of my faith in humanity. Drinking quality alcohol is a matter of self-respect, and it's a pathetic reflection on our collective ethos that Keystone, Busch and other brands of carbonated bongwater remain staples of Middlebury's party scene. In an effort to help my transatlantic fellow man, I have compiled this brief Middlebury Sommelier's Guide to Drinking with Dignity.

Locally available beer is divided into three categories. The first category comes in blue packaging and under names commonly referring to "ice" or other states of water, since there is little beer involved. Price range (you guessed it): $15 for 30. Don't touch that. More importantly, don't let your guests touch that - out of respect for them.

The second category is Vermont beer. It's more expensive - $12-15 for a case of 12 - but definitely worth the cost. I would stay away from the lighter brews, since they tend to be on the watery side; however, the darker ones are excellent. Because they are also heavier, reserve them for smaller occasions, like picnics or barbecues, where you don't intend on drinking much.

Finally, you have the imported brands, which are usually a dollar per case more expensive than Vermont brews. After many years in Prague, I'm a strong advocate of Czech beer. Unfortunately, the Czech Republic's primary export is Pilsner Urquell, which is inferior to most of its domestic competitors. Of course, this is no reason to underestimate its power: Urquell is divine nectar compared to other light beers you'll find in the supermarket. (If you ever come across Staropramen, know you've struck gold). Heineken is always a good choice and comes in a variety of convenient serving vessels, including mini-kegs. For the best lager experience, get Stella Artois.

Poor people in Russia drink counterfeit cologne and ethanol extracted from anti fungal foot ointment, but that's no reason to drink Popov or Fleischmann's. The lowest common denominator of drinkable vodkas is Smirnoff, because it is supposedly distilled three times. (Note: American Smirnoff : Russian Smirnoff :: American Budweiser : Czech Budweiser). Acceptable for use in punch or, minimally, in mixed drinks. For all other uses, stoop no lower than Absolut. The Swedes have led a phenomenal marketing campaign, but their product has a funny, sharp aftertaste which makes flavored varieties preferable to the original. The best option - both in terms of taste and budget - is "Three Olives," an English brand with a remarkably smooth taste compared to its price tag of $30 per handle.

Although Dmitry Mendeleev created the modern recipe for distilling vodka (hence the Russian claim to it being a national beverage), the drink originates in Poland. For a real treat, try the Polish brands Belvedere or Pravda, both available at Hannaford. If you like vodka with the "peppered" taste so popular in Russia, our local supermarket also carries "Russian Standard."

The point of my column is not to advertise the products I have listed (though I am interested in their financial success), but to promote a more gourmet approach to drinking. The consumption of alcohol should not be something one is inured to by weekend habit, but rather by the careful selection of personal preferences. So, choose responsibly. Cheers!