Guest Beer Review: Yuengling Lager

Editors's note: since I'm taking a short break from drinking I've reached out to a few readers for stories of the first beer they remember having. This week I asked my friend Ashley (the original suggester for my newsletter and also her blog) to share her story. 

I grew up with Southern Baptist tee-totaling parents. On the rare occasion when an uncle or a family friend would ceremoniously crack open a beer, it was such a foreign event it left my brother and me slack-jawed with curiosity. My parents would whisper their dismay and shuffle us away to another room (being Southern, my parents were, of course, too polite to suggest someone not imbibe).
 
To drink alcohol—of any kind or in any amount—was to be an alcoholic, my dad said*. It was inherently an excessive and selfish act. The specter of this belief followed me to college, where truthfully, I did not drink much at all. I was a good kid, the RA, the designated driver. The one time I surreptitiously took shots in a dorm room, I worried my parents would somehow know and quickly strip me of my good girl status from 300 miles away.
 
And so, I missed the years of Natty Bo and Pabst and Bud. I was ignorant of Edward Fortyhands. Perhaps it was for the best.
 
Instead, my introduction to beer began from a much brighter place—with Yuengling.
 
I discovered Yuengling during graduate school in South Carolina, when my peers cheered the arrival of this northern beer. I was still becoming familiar with blue laws and mostly subsisting on the shitty wine of my roommates—Southern sorority girls, to be sure—when a case of Yuengling appeared at a game day party. I figured a beer would let me ease into the afternoon far better than red juice from a garbage can, so I grabbed one.
 
I had only ever worked with cans or pints, so I swiped the nearby opener** and turned away from the group, trying to figure out how it worked. After a few moments, someone leaned over my shoulder and quietly said, “I think those just twist off.” My face burned bright red.
 
I quickly put the bottle to my lips, eager to look normal and cool; what I wasn’t prepared for was the deep, nutty flavor that followed.
 
Yuengling was my gateway beer. Craft brews were still another year or two away from their revival, but for me it became familiar to ask the bartender for something that resembled Yuengling. It became the median for which all other beers were judged. Was this lighter and fruiter than Yuengling? Did it share Yuengling’s coffee-like aroma?
 
Starting with a lager made me unafraid to seek out darker beers, and it wasn’t long before I could identify my sweet spot on just about any menu. Similar to my appreciation for coffee and wine, I soon sought greater understanding of how each flavor profile was created. Friends held their engagement party at a brewery and while other guests downed the samples, I followed the tour guide around asking questions about process.
 
These days I have graduated beyond Yuengling. I love brown ales and sours in equal measure. I know to steer clear of IPAs. But if I am at a party and a Yuengling makes itself available, I will never—never—say no.

Ashley’s Favorites:
Highland’s Gaelic Ale
Bell’s Two-hearted Ale
  
*My father, at 65, has never had even a sip of alcohol.
**My roommates had this bottle opener, which played the school fight song every time you flipped a cap. I fucking hated it.