When a beer is labeled “best by,” the brewery makes a judgment weighing freshness against shelf life, and, presumably, the brewery’s bottom line. With “bottled on” dates, buyers must decide for themselves.
The Julian system is but one of many tricks that craft brewers employ to confuse unsuspecting consumers into buying old and often lifeless beer. Lacking in simple clarity, it requires customers to come equipped with additional computational skills just to find a relatively fresh bottle.
Best-by dating is the kind of amorphous, arbitrary tactic that only a manufacturer could love. Masquerading as an effort to help consumers, such dating of beer results in the illusion of honesty, leaving drinkers with no actual tangible information on which to base purchasing decisions.
We Americans drink far too much stale beer, all the while pretending it’s the best stuff on Earth. Whether it’s from Belgium, Germany, Japan or a few states away, our willingness to spend big bucks to get burned time and again has to be some form of gastronomic psychosis.
Beer is a fragile product and should be treated like any other perishable food item. Trust us, there’s nothing worse than losing $10 on a 6-pack of stale IPA.
I once served a five-year-old bottle of craft beer to a college buddy, just for laughs. As he popped the top, I waited in anticipation for his first sip, which he promptly spit all over my coffee table. I deserved it.