Until this past year, my beer knowledge was limited to Natty Light kegstands on University housing porches. In years when my bank account hovered well below sea level, I enjoyed Guinness for dinner but mostly because it had lots of iron, was cheap and filled me up like eating actual food. My gastronomical education leaned more towards wine and spirits. Being the social sort, I’m able to hold my own with the snobbiest of wine connoisseurs and the most discerning of scotch drinkers. Evenings with paramours or girlfriends naturally gravitate towards the cocktails and great bottles of wine for the table. But then I moved to Hollywood where every other restaurant is now a gastropub. Quite simply, fried, spicy, bread-heavy, fatty food is just better matched with beer. While even the most elite of gastropubs often only carry passable wine, the most makeshift location will have a beer list that rivals a Berlin beer hall. I make no assumptions that I know anything about beer beyond what amounts to a pre-school education, but I do know food and what flavors pair. I have tried every kind of bougie junk food with all kinds of craft brews and have fallen in love with what you can do with the two. So, instead of being that annoying, pathetic person who drinks a glass of bad Cabernet with a burger, you can follow the simple tips below to know what pairs best with what. There are two types of beers and a plethora of styles within them. Depending on the fermentation, a beer is either an Ale or a Lager. Lagers: Pale lagers are the most produced and consumed style of beer in the world and for a good reason. The flavors are pretty mild allowing it to pair...

Fiercely Anticipating: Presidents’ Day weekend. It’s here! That glimmer of hope right in the midst of our seasonal affective disorder*! The Federal Holiday that no one remembers! The perfect little blue balls-inducing holiday weekend: too short to merit a vacation, but long enough to keep us from realizing we should stop slaving away for our corporate overlords and open a cooperative beet farm in Oregon! This is a nice one because we don’t have to deal with all the tediousness that marrs our other three-day weekends. I don’t have to be proud of my country, I don’t have to remember anyone, and my facebook feed won’t clog with inspirational misquotes and do-gooder cyber shaming. (Our first President was as boring as he was wooden-toothed, and as such, he is not remembered for his pithy sayings. “Bad seed is a robbery of the worst kind: for your pocket-book not only suffers by it, but your preparations are lost and a season passes away unimproved.” Pull that one out on Monday and see how many likes you get.) There are no parades to block traffic, no fireworks to pretend to care about, no enforced group meat-charring to attend. This is perfect for me, because I hate mandatory fun and I strongly dislike pool parties. As you can probably guess, I have big plans for this weekend. The idea is to drive up to San Francisco, hang out with friends, see Pina in 3-D, and while lingering over artisanal beers, meet a 6 foot tall Indian architect who loves Shakespeare, sandwiches, and casual relationships. What’s going to happen is this: on Friday evening I will don some soft, non-binding sleep wear, open a bottle of wine, and peruse the photo albums of my facebook friends who mysteriously...