Michael Jackson died two years ago today. No, not that Michael Jackson.
But Michael Jackson, the un-gloved one, the one who couldn't dance, the Michael Jackson who could and did write prolifically in promulgation of malt —beer and whisky.
The poet A.E. Houseman wrote:
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
It was Michael Jackson —the Beer Hunter— who showed us, with prose that still resonates today, that beautiful malts require no justification.
A man who does not care about the beer he drinks may as well not care about the bread he eats. Neither should a woman be so careless. <...> Drink, food, and sex can all provide quick satisfaction or a more relaxed enjoyment. Some people take their pleasures quickly, and swear loyalty to the same beer every day, but they miss much. The search for the perfect pint should last a lifetime.
The New World Guide To Beer
Maureen Ogle has posted a link to a 1990 review in the New York Times of Jackson's then new Beer Hunter series on the Discovery Channel. Back then, there were no Imperial barrel-aged soured brettanomyces-fermented triple-hopped beers —at least not in the US.