Food snobbery translates to booze – Eat, Drink, and Be Snarky

I am a proud, self professed food snob; this isn’t news. The sad fact is that I had no chance. I was born the son of a food snob and the flag was passed down to me at an early age. I think it might even be genetic; I’m just waiting for the scientists to pinpoint the gene. Sadly, it’s way down on the list, after the gene responsible for loud sneezing, but before the gene for droopy ear lobes.

In any case, food snobbery may be a slightly incorrect term, or at the very least incomplete. You see, my food snobbery doesn’t just stop with food. No, no. In fact, I may be even more of an alcohol snob than I am a food snob.

I’m not a huge fan of beer. There are some beers I really like. Who can say no to a big frothy beer milkshake that they call Guinness Stout? Those watered down swill beers (Bud, Miller, etc, etc), they just don’t do anything for me. Unfortunately a lot of those fancy microbrews don’t do anything for me either. The fact is I just can’t stand a really bitter beer. At this point in my life my snobbery has almost taken over completely and I pass on the beer and just head straight to the wine.

Ah wine. Delicious, delicious wine. I blame my father for this too, as I grew up in a house where very nice wine was always served. I know people who can enjoy the heck out of a really cheap bottle of wine. Myself, I live by a simple motto: “Life is too short to drink cheap wine.” My wallet wishes that I could settle for a bottle of Two Buck Chuck (which is actually three bucks here on the east coast), but it’s just not going to happen. I’ve been raised to be such a wine snob, in fact, that I can’t look at bottle of Merlot without sneering (I’ve had to explain that joke from Sideways so many times to people).

If it stopped with wine I might be okay. Unfortunately when my friends are all ordering sugary mixed drinks like Captain and Coke, I’m ordering Manhattans or a glass of single malt scotch or some expensive cognac. In fact, I clearly recall a time in middle school when we were reading a story aloud in class. My teacher couldn’t believe that I knew how to correctly pronounce “cognac” and I think she was legitimately concerned for my well being. I was fine… just a food snob in training.