Chimay Premiere (Red)

Belgian beers are known for their bitter taste, frothy heads and high alcohol content. Primiere does not disappoint.

During my adventures throughout Europe last fall, I missed this, but I did drink the Chimay Reserve (Blue) and several other Trappist ales. Seven monasteries in Belgium and the Netherlands produce Trappist ales, which have become world-renowned brands such as Chimay, Rochefort and Westmalle.

Drinking:

I poured the Red into a free goblet I got with my Chimay (sweet deal) and it produced a reddish-amber liquid with a very frothy head that lasted for several minutes, due to the high carbonation. The smell was sweet with hints of various spices within it. This beer is far from the translucent American canned beer because of the yeast and sediments introduced during the beer’s top-down fermentation.

Taste:

The Chimay Red was surprisingly drinkable, unlike certain other like Rochefort Double which I had in a bottle in Brussels. The Red doesn’t taste that boozy, despite having 7% ABV, but it could still deter some less adventuresome beer drinkers. There is a bitter taste that mixes with the sweet aroma: a sign that the hops are doing their job. The spices add a nice flavor that almost warms you up as you drink it, even if the Red was in the fridge.

Impressions:

This beer really has class, but it is not something you would want to play beer pong, caps, or flip cup with. It is a beverage to be thoroughly enjoyed. As it comes in 750ml bottles, in addition to the 330 ml which I tried, it can serve as a one stop classy pregame. Come on, only a baller drinks out of a freakin’ goblet.

Party Value: 1/5

Taste Value: 4/5

Class Value: 5/5

Ice House

When I was about eight years old, my junior soccer league played its games every Saturday morning at Jackson Park, on the South Side of Chicago. I was the little kid who never quite cared enough about the game, and when I got subbed out (as I inevitably did), I occupied myself by collecting the beer bottle caps that were strewn around the park from the previous Friday night of ghetto outdoor partying. Already the little beer connoisseur, I liked to sort them by label, and each Saturday I tried to find as many different caps as possible. But the one cap I never lacked was Ice House. They were strewn around Jackson Park like fish in the ocean: urban remnants of parties thrown by people who just wanted to get wasted.

It cannot be denied: Ice House is the shit of the shit. If I had any self-respect as a beer critic, I would bash Ice House as the street trash it is. But I don’t, and I can’t–or at least I can’t just leave it at that. Because besides being a piece of shit, Ice House is an all-American beer, the beer of football fans and frat boys across our great nation. At 5.5% alcohol by volume it’s almost as alcoholic as some wine, so it packs an awesome kick. And most important of all–in a party beer at least–when I finish one, I want another.

True to its name, Ice House is an “ice beer,” which means that when they’re done making it they freeze it and skim a layer of ice off the top. Because water freezes at a lower temperature than alcohol, the ice they skim off is pure water, leaving the remaining beer with a stronger flavor and a higher alcohol content. Although this process is similar to German “Eisbock” beer, it didn’t catch on strong in North America until Canadian Labatt patented it in the ’80s–and not in the United States until the ’90s.

But whatever its history, the first and only thing I taste in Ice House is beer–pure, cold, carbonated beer. I don’t taste hops or malts, nothing bitter or sweet, no wheat or chocolate or caramel… and that’s just fine with me. It’s nice after a hard day of outside work (this is called a “lawnmower beer” for a reason!) to have a beer that doesn’t make you think. Its high alcohol content and decent taste make it my party beer of choice, and I could easily drink a six-pack without noticing.

But one warning: never nurse this beer! Everything rides on the carbonation–if you let it get flat it tastes like piss. Drink your Ice House like a man, or not at all.

Class Value: 0/5

 

 

Party Value: 5/5

 

 

Taste Value: 3/5

 

 

Fat Tire

No, I don’t know why it’s called “Fat Tire.”

The fine print on the label says that it’s “named in honor of [New Belgium founder] Jeff’s mountain bike trip from brewery to brewery through Europe,” which would be an adequate explanation for a beer named Flat Tire, but…what the hell is a “fat tire” anyway? Must be an inside joke. Oh well, on to more important things.

This is a dark amber beer, a little bitter but nothing extreme. It’s very bready, you might say earthy, with a distinct burned taste underneath. If you like your toast or your hot dogs just a little burned (or if you were the little kid who always lit his marshmallow on fire and ate it anyway) you’ll definitely like this beer. It’s also a very pretty color, kind of a dark gold, so if you want to impress someone make sure to pour it into a nice clear glass.

In case you couldn’t tell from its name, Fat Tire is a beer of choice for travelers. It’s brewed in Colorado, and I imagine a lot of hikers there come off the trail and pick up a six-pack of this. It’s a good beer to relax over–not something to chug down, but you can definitely drink more than a few of these if you’re in the mood. And it’s a relatively rare beer–more than a few people have asked me where they can get some–so if you have the chance, try a few.

Party Value: 2.5/5

 

 

Class Value: 3.5/5

 

 

Taste Value: 3.5/5

 

 

Anchor Steam Beer

My first reaction to Anchor Steam was, “Uhhh…” It was one of the bitterest beers I’d ever tasted, with a strange aftertaste mixed in that I couldn’t quite place. I definitely wouldn’t have called it pleasant.

My second reaction was, “Hmm, this is interesting.” I like bitter beers and strong tastes, and I could feel myself warming up to Anchor Steam. By the end of the week (and the six-pack), it was one of my favorite beers in the fridge.

Anchor Steam is like Heineken plus: if you’re the type of drinker who takes a sip of Heineken and thinks, “This is good, but it’s really not strong enough,” then try an Anchor Steam.

It’s a bitter beer, but not a dark bitter beer like Guinness. And I finally identified that strange aftertaste: it’s a twist of caramel, just a little bit of sweetness to counteract the bitter. The effect is rich and interesting.

Needless to say, this beer is an acquired taste. And it’s probably not much of a girl beer, so save it for a poker night or something. But it’s a tasty, interesting beer, and fully worth learning to enjoy.

Party Value: 1/5

 

 

Class Value: 3.5/5

 

 

Taste Value: 3.5/5

Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat

I like Sam Adams. They make some of my favorite beers. And I’m not one of those guys who necessarily looks askance at fruit beer, either. But I’m not a fan of cough syrup, and that’s exactly what this beer tastes like.

What happened, Sam? Marashino cherries with an aftertaste of burnt coffee–how did this one get past the taste-testers? I tried drinking it with food, but that only made it worse.

On the bright side, if you used Cherry Wheat to chase cheap vodka, it might make the vodka taste good…

If you want Sam Adams, try their traditional Boston Lager, or my personal favorite, Irish Red. If you want a fruit beer, I recommend Leinenkugel’s Berryweiss, especially on a hot summer day. But unless you’re looking for a topping for vanilla ice cream, stay the hell away from Sam Adams Cherry Wheat.

Party Value: 0/5

 

 

Class Value: 3.5/5

 

 

Taste Value: 0/5

Tecate

Like it or not, the default judgment on any Mexican beer is to compare it to Corona–that’s just the prototype by which all others are judged. And frankly, by that standard most Mexican beers come up a little short. They’re usually just overpriced, watered-down Coronas.

But Tecate is a wonderful exception, not because it’s necessarily better than Corona but because it’s not anything like Corona. In fact, it doesn’t taste or look like a Mexican beer at all. The bottle is dark brown instead of clear, the label is red and bold, and although its a light beer–I had to pour it into a glass to be sure–the taste is dark and full.

It’s probably a better party beer than a beach beer, and you definitely wouldn’t want to put a slice of lime in it. Among Mexican beers, Tecate is a little bit like that girl you spend your whole life wishing you’d taken to prom–you know, the one who was really smart and interesting but kind of funny-looking, who’s now a gorgeous advertising executive making six figures?

Yeah… Tecate may not be as glamorous as the silvery-labeled beach beers you expect from south of the border, but once you get to know it, it’s a lifelong love.

Party Value: 3.5/5

 

 

Class Value: 2.5/5

 

 

Taste Value: 4/5

 

 

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