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Waiter Fired for Being Aggressive Blames It on French Culture

Waiter Fired for Being Aggressive Blames It on French Culture



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The ex-employee has filed an official complaint against the restaurant and its parent company

Wavebreakmedia / istockphoto.com

Guillaume Rey claims his alleged aggression is just a part of French culture.

A waiter in Canada was reportedly fired from his job for being too aggressive with coworkers, but the ex-staffer is claiming that the trait is just a part of his culture. According to CBC News, Guillaume Rey has filed a complaint with the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal against Milestones Restaurant and its parent company, Cara Operations, for misinterpreting his “direct, honest, and professional” French personality.

While restaurant leaders reportedly agree that Rey was a good worker, they maintain that he was fired for an “aggressive tone and nature” toward other employees, which violates the establishment’s code of conduct.

Rey, who worked at the Vancouver restaurant from October 2015 to August 2016, claims that he received “great feedback from guests” and was “very friendly and professional with his tables.” But according to CBC News, he was often scolded about being “combative and aggressive” toward colleagues until he was ultimately fired for bringing a peer to tears. Rey has reportedly denied all allegations.

The tribunal has denied an application by Milestones Restaurant and Cara Operations to dismiss the complaint.

The Daily Meal has reached out to Milestones Restaurant and Cara Operations for comment.

For restaurant drama in the back-of-house, check out these 10 unbelievably crazy chef feuds.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.


France has (finally) discovered craft beer. There’s even one called ‘La Guillotine’

Nicolas Nougarede realized a lifelong dream when he opened his wine shop, Cave Enoteca 31, in this southwest French city. It was a leap into the profound historical, economic and cultural appreciation of wine that is so closely associated with France.

Five years later, Nougarede seems as surprised as anyone when he gazes at a wall of his shop that is lined with shelves of beer. After initially deciding it might be wise to offer a few token brews, he now sells 120 varieties.

“It’s a real beer BOOM,” he said, giving the word extra emphasis. “Beer has found its place at the table in France again.”

It’s hard to overstate how dramatically the market for beer has changed in this wine-soaked country. After declining for 36 consecutive years, the amount of beer consumed in France has grown about 3% annually each of the last four years, according to the Brewers Assn. of France.

Across the country, American-style brewpubs are sprouting up. Department stores are selling DIY homebrew kits. Restaurants and chefs are incorporating more beers into their menus. And on the cafes dotting sidewalks and plazas, it’s no longer uncommon to see a tabletop full of golden-hewed pint glasses offering refreshing competition to a chilled summer rose.

Perhaps the capstone of this cultural revival came this summer when two of France’s dictionaries announced they would add the synonyms bierologie and zythologie (definition: the study or expertise in beer).

“The demand and interest is growing,” said Elisabeth Pierre, a zythologue who travels the country organizing beer tastings, workshops on how to appreciate beer and trainings for those who would like to be bierologues. “There is a phenomenon in how attitudes toward beer have improved.”

No one will mistake France, the world’s second-largest consumer of wine, for its beer-guzzling neighbors in Belgium, Britain or Germany, which respectively each year drink 18 gallons, 17.7 gallons and 27 gallons per capita, according to the Brewers Assn. of Europe. The French downed a mere 8.5 gallons per person in 2017. Still, that’s up a half gallon from four years ago, and it means that beer is steadily closing the gap with wine consumption, which has fallen from 26.5 gallons per person in 1975 to 12 gallons in 2016.

That enthusiasm was on full display at Pigalle, a beer bar that opened in the heart of Paris this year around the corner from the famed Moulin Rouge. On a warm evening, a young crowd was packed around the stainless-steel counters, staring at an illuminated sign that listed the 20 beers currently on tap. A server patiently explained the different varieties, with such names as Jungle Joy, Red My Lips and Night Drift, offering tastes to customers who carefully weighed their options (bitter? fruity?) before selecting a brew to accompany the decidedly un-French food options of hot dogs, tacos and Belgian fries.

The taproom was opened in March by the Belgium-based Brussels Beer Project, a cooperative effort to encourage innovative brewing techniques. The founders looked across the border, saw the explosive interest in beer and decided to open their third location in Paris.

Beyond just serving beer, Pigalle organizes tastings and workshops to educate customers about the brewing process and how to better appreciate various varieties of beers. It is an essential part of French culture to not just search for good food and drink, but to thoroughly understand it. What gives it that aroma? Why that color? What does the amount of foam indicate?

“For a country that has so much taste for good foods and good wine, it was surprising that France was behind in its quality of beers,” said Maxime Pecsteen, the “export shaman” of Pigalle. “Now we see that more and people are excited about beer.”

Mahe Bradfer is one. While working at a cafe in Paris, she developed a taste for beer and eventually discovered she had a palate and passion for it. Her self-taught proficiency led to a job this year as the official beer selector for Delirium Cafe, a massive taproom that opened this year in Toulouse.

Delirium is the kind of beer-themed bar that would have been almost unthinkable in France a few years ago. With two floors and 47 taps that are topped with the bar’s signature pink elephant mascot and include names like La Guillotine and La Bete, Delirium is the latest franchise of its famed Belgium namesake and claims to be the biggest such watering hole in France.