My mom doesn’t drink beer.
As a former taproom employee, I find enjoyment in leading people to the exact beer of their liking. I find similar satisfaction when teaching and winning over those who are skeptical or unfamiliar with craft beer in the first place. My mom has been my hardest student, and I still have yet to find a beer she’s enjoyed.
The day before Mother’s Day, I ask if she wants to come on a drive about an hour west. It’s Ramadan. My father is the only one who still practices his faith. And while Mecca might be closed down, “Beer Mecca” is still operational.
“Want to go to Tree House with me?”
I’m a bit surprised when she agrees to join, and says it will be nice to have some time together. But then again, am I that surprised? Not really—she’s a parent.
Turning left into the mouth of Tree House Brewing Company’s driveway, I begin to hum the “Jurassic Park” theme song. As we pass through the wooden gates, she laughs, admitting that she’s never seen anything like this before.
She’s impressed with the precision and organization, and I assure her that there is a reason Tree House is so revered in the industry. With the ongoing threat of COVID-19, the brewery’s contactless pick-up operation is regulated to a T. The efficiency and sense of order provide some form of comfort—probably the kind a parent longs for. I take photos through the closed windows of the car as we make our way along the property as part of a vehicular procession.
Though I still have yet to find a beer my mom’s enjoyed, she seems delighted. “You always learn something new when you leave your comfort zone,” she says. On the way back, we stop home for deli subs. Takeaway lunch for us, and dinner for my father, when it’s time to break his fast.
Am I a bad child for bringing my non-beer-drinking mom to a brewery the day before Mother’s Day? This time, I think I get a pass.
