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Beer Review: Pabst Blue Ribbon
Mar. 1st, 2005 01:19 amSome Pabst Blue Ribbon was left behind at our Luau [1], and I realized that I've never drunk this beer legally, so my dismissal of it is based on old data at best.
Besides, I had a couple of ibuprofen to wash down.
This brewery claims that it was established in Milwaukee in 1844, and selected by somebody as "America's Best" in 1893. This was approximately when the martini was invented by adding sweet vermouth to whatever clear liquor was in the house (gin, vodka, whatever) and crusting the conical drinking glass with sugar. In other words, palates were radically different then.
This is a "crisp, clean" beer, which is a euphemism indicating that it has almost no flavor whatsoever. The back-taste is a bit disturbing, hinting lightly of skunk cabbage and Wonder Bread. It's possible that the carbonation was due to the fermentation process, but I can't escape the nagging suspicion that it was added just before canning with an infuser.
For some inexplicable reason, this beer comes in 16 ounce cans, rather than 12 ounce bottles. One theory is that Milwaukee, being situated on a Great Lake and being surrounded by bogs, had extra water that it needed to get rid of. Nonetheless, there is very little hint of swamp, indicating that some decent filtering happened.
While dilution undoubtedly improves the delivery of this beer, this is offset by the greater volume. Eventually, and at about the 14th ounce, you have to realize that this has been a waste of barley and probably rice. The "run-of-the-mill" lagers from such other breweries as Sam Adams and Pete's Wicked are suddenly sublime.
If you're one of those adults who believes that they don't like beer, it is probably due to adolescent exposure to something like this. It's quite possible that you don't like bitter brews in general (and therefore don't like coffee either). But if you can drink iced tea without sugar, you can find a good beer that will dispell your sensory memory of the likes of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
[1] For what should be obvious reasons, I will not divulge the name of the guest who brought it.
Besides, I had a couple of ibuprofen to wash down.
This brewery claims that it was established in Milwaukee in 1844, and selected by somebody as "America's Best" in 1893. This was approximately when the martini was invented by adding sweet vermouth to whatever clear liquor was in the house (gin, vodka, whatever) and crusting the conical drinking glass with sugar. In other words, palates were radically different then.
This is a "crisp, clean" beer, which is a euphemism indicating that it has almost no flavor whatsoever. The back-taste is a bit disturbing, hinting lightly of skunk cabbage and Wonder Bread. It's possible that the carbonation was due to the fermentation process, but I can't escape the nagging suspicion that it was added just before canning with an infuser.
For some inexplicable reason, this beer comes in 16 ounce cans, rather than 12 ounce bottles. One theory is that Milwaukee, being situated on a Great Lake and being surrounded by bogs, had extra water that it needed to get rid of. Nonetheless, there is very little hint of swamp, indicating that some decent filtering happened.
While dilution undoubtedly improves the delivery of this beer, this is offset by the greater volume. Eventually, and at about the 14th ounce, you have to realize that this has been a waste of barley and probably rice. The "run-of-the-mill" lagers from such other breweries as Sam Adams and Pete's Wicked are suddenly sublime.
If you're one of those adults who believes that they don't like beer, it is probably due to adolescent exposure to something like this. It's quite possible that you don't like bitter brews in general (and therefore don't like coffee either). But if you can drink iced tea without sugar, you can find a good beer that will dispell your sensory memory of the likes of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
[1] For what should be obvious reasons, I will not divulge the name of the guest who brought it.
