The brewer's tale A history of the world according to beer

It is a hallmark of our food-obsessed times that the most commonplace things we put in our mouths - burgers, coffee, cupcakes - have become as fetishized as any stiletto heel. In "The Brewer's Tale," Bostwick brings the requisite levels of geeky erudition and enthusiasm to that once most mundane of beverages, beer. Tracing the drink's trajectory from the rough fermentation of the Sumerians' bappir loaf to the $5.99 six-pack of Miller High Life, Bostwick is an amiable and informative guide, peppering his story with insights on everything from the shamanistic uses of Viking mead to George Washington's brewing skills. It makes for breezy history - sometimes too breezy, as when the author posits Samuel Johnson as a post-industrial Revolution writer whose "cutting wit sliced through the Romantic poets' misty-eyed histrionics." But there is much that fascinates, such as the religious motivations behind the transition from spices to hops (monks favored the former, so iconoclastic Protestants chose the latter) and the class warfare at play in the evolving tastes for porters and I.P.A.s. Less fascinating are his descriptions of American craft beer culture, with its seemingly bottomless supply of brewers who sit around debating the finer points of lambics and saying things like "Beer is poetry." After the second or third chapter, neither they nor Bostwick's own forays into replicating historic styles of beer (recipe re-creation being by now an all-too-familiar device in books about food and wine) leave much of an impression on the casual beer drinker, making "The Brewer's Tale" a book for aficionados.

The often dry topic of world history becomes a jovial and well-lubricated trek through time and place in this narrative detailing the origins of beer. When not tending his bees, at home brewing beer or occasionally working as a bartender, Bostwick (co-author: Beer Craft: A Simple Guide to Making Great Beer, 2011) writes about his favorite subject for such publications as the Wall Street Journal and GQ. Seeking to do more than just describe the sensory experience of a hoppy IPA, an acidic lambic or a smooth golden pilsner, the author constructs his account around the human story of beer: the brewers. Bostwick's storytelling style resembles that of a favorite college professor whose delivery is erudite but fun and easy to digest. The author travels through time relating the stories of servants in Babylonia, medieval monks, Nordic shamans, early American settlers, German immigrants in America's heartland, contemporary microbrewers and bottom-line corporate advertisers, weaving a lively rendition of the evolving creation story of beer. Bostwick combines historical research with on-the-ground reporting of the current state of affairs in brewing, which means trips to a farmhouse in Newport, Oregon, a brewery outside Portland, Maine, and Boston for a visit with the CEO of the biggest craft brewery in America. Wanting to "taste the richness of history," the author recounts how hops, corn, molasses, pumpkins, maple sap, spices and yeast create different tastes in the finished product. Bostwick also recounts his attempts at several home brews of past favorites, including a bread beer whose recipe he found in a 3,800-year-old poem dedicated to the goddess of beer and a Thanksgiving tribute to George Washington's home brew. Bostwick's beercentric account of the world will delight beer lovers, food historians and home brewers. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.