“Pale lagers, Lovi?” I ask my cousin. “Really? That's pretty much all there was, when I was growing up. That’s why I didn’t like beer for a long time.” My skeptical expression must be clear.

“Ah, you think maybe of that stuff in the cans, no?” Lovibond replies in her intriguing accent, smiling at my assumptions. “There is still nice warm weather to appreciate a good lager beer. Not from the aluminium. Tonight, we go out and do some dancing, eh? And then Taste some lager beers worth Tasting.”

As we peruse our music and dancing prospects I am reminded of how wealthy we are here in the mountains of northern Arizona. Not only are we rich in gorgeous trails, captivating rock formations, impressive wildlife and incredible weather, we have a music and art scene that rivals many a megalopolis. To top it off, the variety of fine beers available in town is nothing less than admirable.

“Government regulations, that is what makes for the birth of lager beer,” Lovi tells me. “In Bavaria, they outlaw brewing in the hot summer sometime around the year 1600. The hot, it made the beer sour. To have beer to drink and sell in summertime then, German brewers, they start fermenting beer in caves, under ice, with a yeast that works very slowly in the cold. This yeast, it settles to the bottom, when the beer is almost done. The storing, that is called in German the ‘lagering.’ The yeast that falls means bottom-fermented.”

It took almost another 250 years, Lovibond explains, to create a truly palatable bottom-fermented beer. In the early 1800’s, innovative brewers produced the first pale lagers; in the 1840’s, lagers developed and brewed in Vienna and Pilsen became hugely popular. Mellow taste and low alcohol content offered a more refined beverage, and much slower inebriation, to a population ready to expand its drinking experience. Lovi speculates that pale lager could have been the forerunner of “soft drinks,” relatively speaking. Certainly, she tells me, the brewing of lagers figured prominently in the invention and development of refrigeration.

The smooth, milder taste of light lagers is a result of three elements: fewer hops, lower alcohol content, and less assertive yeast flavors. Before the 1800’s, hops and high alcohol content prevented the spoilage of ales, but the cold fermentation of lagering likewise did the job. The settling of the yeast in the cool, bottom-fermented brew restricted its influence on the flavors of hops and malt.

“Doesn’t all that light and mellow business mean not much flavor?” I ask. I like beers that are rich and complex, and what Lovi is describing sounds like, well, that stuff in cans.

“Ah, here is where the flavors of hops and malt can show off themselves,” my cousin says. “True, there are many lagers that are not much interesting, but we try tonight some who are. One of the oldest pale lagers from Germany, and a good Viennese-style from the US. We will Taste Paulaner Original Munchener (Munich) Lager, and Sam Adams Boston Lager.”

The heated glow of dancing stays with us when we buy these beers in bottles and sit down to Taste. The Paulaner Original arrives, not in the standard 12 oz. bottle, but oversize, and Boston Lager comes in a bottle with “Sam Adams” embossed in the brown glass. Both sport labels that are attractive and historic, honoring their native cities.

We’ve been Tasting from Lovi’s glass goblets all through the summer, so the pint glasses we pour the lagers into are a change.

“Does it really make a difference, Lovi? The shape of the glasses?” Although I’ve heard that it does, again, it engages my skepticism.

“Sometime we try Tasting one beer from some different glasses and you will Taste for yourself,” says my cousin with a knowing smile.

The Boston Lager in the pint glass is a clear, rich red-gold with a creamy off-white head and coarse carbonation. The coppery color is typical of Vienna lagers, whose popularity rose and fell fairly quickly in Europe. Austrian immigrants in Mexico brought this style to the New World, where it has thrived in North America. This brew of Sam Adams’ smells of malty yellow straw, reminding me of a hay meadow with the rich muddy scents of a stream running through it.

Another meadow comes to mind as I breathe the aroma of the Original Munchener, but this one full of flowers, overlooking an ocean. The floral scent is powerful and sweet, like roses, lilies, or even hyacinths, with deep malty tones that gradually turn even more flowery. The bright white head is pleasantly uneven, cratered in fact, over the hazy, pale yellow-gold of the beer.

At first sip I am surprised by the gentleness of the carbonation of both of these lagers, but the resemblance ends there. Sam’s Boston has a bold, peppery hoppiness that is felt as much as tasted; I follow the sensation of the resinous hops along the sides of my tongue and on my lips. The piney bitterness is reminiscent of pale ales, but the rich balance of flavors is different, as the taste of the hops and malt emerges without the complications of top-fermenting yeast. The clear, strong, bright flavor doesn’t fade but continues into the aftertaste.

Even less yeast-influenced is the floral taste of the Paulaner. A deep-woods, loamy quality emerges, strong and sharp without being bitter. The head dissipates quickly, but the taste and scent of flowers stays, and even intensifies, pulling me into the experience the way I might drink in the aroma of a bouquet. A daydreamy, romantic feeling that makes me think of Austrian waltzes emerges somehow through this beer.

Lovi and I find ourselves feeling expansive, sentimental, and enjoying just the slightest edge of melancholy with the mild intoxication of these pale lagers. The bold, almost brash quality of the American beer and the soft, deep experience of the European remind us of the very different paths our own divided family has taken – remarkably different despite the close relation. My earlier judgment of lagers has taken a new path, too, as tonight’s experience settles. In no other comparison of beers have I found such quintessential regional qualities within the same style, and found them both so deeply enjoyable.