Tailgate IPA --

I was at my local discount grocery store when I saw that Tailgate had a new beer. Previously, Tailgate was only available in the two varieties: Blacktop Blonde and Hefenweizen. Much to my surprise, it seems as if the company has been so successful that they've produced a third beer. Granted.... it went straight the the discount grocery store... but still. They brewed it. That's something. I give you: Indian Pale Ale.

Available in tall boys, on tap, or as shown, in a six-pack. It was either going to be 'Third times a charm' or 'Three strikes you're out', but it didn't really matter, since I had already committed to buying it anyway.


More surprising than Tailgate producing a third style: the pour had great color and head, with substantial lacing. It looked like real beer!

The hop taste masks the major flaw of the previous two beers, which was the rotten vegetable taste. Its still there and coats the mouth after a few drinks, but the fact that I was able to finish the entire beer was a feat previously unaccomplished.

According to the website, 5% ABV and 44 IBUs. Tailgate's official website brags that the beer pairs well with hot wings, fried food, spicy food, and other beer. They even  posted a link to a IPA coleslaw recipe. But back to that last part... who pairs beer with other beer?! If your beer requires a side of beer, its not good beer!

I don't think it was either a strike or a hit, honestly... if I was going to keep with the baseball metaphors, I'd say it was more of an error that led to a base.


I give it a C-. Nearly undrinkable, but very much an improvement over the previous styles.

Going where no Kim has gone before...

After a long break with no beer reviews, I give you Romulan Ale. Although judging by other online reviews, this beer was never a huge crowd pleaser, my review still comes with a huge asterisk: this particular bottle of beer is at least four years old and before being given to me*, had been stored, unrefrigerated, in a clear glass bottle. It has no sell-by date or information on it (except a warning about the risks of consuming alcoholic beverages, so I at least know it was brewed after 1996 when those labels became mandatory), so I'm thinking the best case scenario for me here is to walk away without food poisoning or death.

 Being as Romulan Ale is ALSO the name of a fictitious beverage on the show Star Trek, it was hard to do research on the internet. My Google search mostly came up with fan fiction, cocktail recipes, and episode recaps. The beer was produced by a member of the Miller family, Cerveceria La Constancia, a brewery in El Salvador (a country not known for its fine beers)-- that's pretty much all I could find.  Romulan Ale is listed on my favorite beer rating website as an American Adjunct Lager, ITS NOT EVEN AN ALE!! And it is available for purchase on Amazon.com, but I wouldn't buy it if I were you.

This is the most scared I have ever been to drink a beer, next to that time when I was five years old and I drank the beer that had been sitting out next to my parent's bed overnight.

Enough stalling. On to the pour... Large amounts of sediment was stuck to the bottom and sides of the bottle. Although I was anticipating the rotting vegetable smell of your standard American Adjunct Lager, this beer had no smell. If this review were a horror movie, this would be the part where the victim walks into a silent, darkened room and yells "Hello?" and hears no response, but the killer is in the room, and you know it. I am the victim in that example, in case there was any question.

With it's electric blue color and spotty carbonation throughout, our first reaction was "Is this actually beer?"; I would say the blue raspberry color would encourage under-aged drinking, but having tasted it, I assure you, it discourages drinking at all ages.

Long story short *insert gagging, running for something to wash my mouth out, and fear here* It was terrible and absolutely undrinkable. The grainy corn garbage had turned. THAT'S RIGHT, I would have considered grainy corn garbage taste a VICTORY.  It was like blue, liquid bread mold. My mouth might never forgive me. I'm kidding. My mouth has seen a lot worse.

Grade: D- Not the worst beer ever, but nearly the worst beer ever.

*Thank you, Gordon Sharp, for your generous donation.

There's the right way, There's the wrong way,

And there's the Kingway.

It sounds like the name of a discount grocery store, but it's actually a beer from China that I bought at a discount grocery store. It was the only 6-pack of its kind, and sitting in a ripped box and covered in dust, it wasn't hard for me to know which beer to pick for this installment of the beer blog.

Although from China, Kingway is a European Pale Lager. Now, I know Euro Pale Lagers are not something we deal with everyday on this site, so let me explain briefly how that differs from an American Adjunct Lager: It doesn't. 

So, moving on, the brewing company, Guangdong, was founded in 1990 and as of 2004, Heineken has owned 21% of the brewing company, which may have something to do with the label stating its brewed "In the German Brewing Tradition".

The website for Guangdong looks like it was made by a mid-western family to post their yearly Christmas letter. That aside, its the most informative beer website I've seen, covering everything from ingredients, to information for the stock holders, to annual reports, or as I like to call them, "the Kingway Christmas letter".  The website states that they vow to make sure every bottle of beer is 'flawless', and boasts 'Green Technology', which means brewing without the use of formaldehyde. Wait. WHAT? I had to do research, and apparently, trace amounts of formaldehyde is used in not just Chinese beer, but most beers, to prevent bacteria from growing in the can. Bottled beer does not contain formaldehyde, but even at trace amounts, with the amount of beer that I consume, I'm probably going to end up pickling myself.
But back to Kingway. It received the China Best Brand award in the 'green food' category in 2002, 2004, and 2005, which is super prestigious, considering how well known China is for its beer. 

It had a good pour; good head, proper lacing, clear golden color. I feel like there was a bait and switch, because all the really positive stuff ends there. It had an off-putting smell that was not at all beer scented, but neither Mike or I still can't place it. Old potato? No. I don't know. Its drinkable, just don't give it a chance to get warm. Mike tasted the rotten vegetable taste often present in american adjunct style, but I didn't. I did however experience a mildly unpleasantly, thick, sweet mouthcoat. And gave me awful after-burps.

I give it a C-. It had good presentation, I think if it hadn't been as old as it appeared to be (there was a stamp on the bottles that may have suggested it was brewed in 2010), it could have gotten a solid C.

Bad Beers Come to Those Who Wait...

This is the white whale of redneck beers. I saw it once in a 30 rack, shortly after what I now refer to only as The Game Day Ice Experience, in which I vowed to never buy a 30 rack of experimental beer ever again.

However, this past weekend, while having a conversation with an employee at Grocery Outlet Bargain Market in which I found out I am known as "that woman who bought all that Game Day" (I am not kidding) I was lamenting that I had tried everything that had in the 'bad beer' category, I turned around to find a 6 pack Beer30 Light.

What?! That wasn't a sentence, you say? I'm a beer blogger, not a proper sentence writer.  

For those of you who were not raise in a barn, or a trailer, or some barn/trailer combination, "Beer30" is a response used when someone asks you what time it is and you indicate that its time to drink. What time is it, you ask? Why, its Beer30. And here's a hint: to some people, its always beer30.

There's apparently no regular Beer30; just Light and Ice, which I assume is why Beer30 Light has a 4% alcohol content. Lets face it, Beer30 Light is just regular Beer30, the fine people at Melanie Brewing in Wisconsin were just trying to class it up a bit.

I am losing faith in my previous go-to beer rating site. They ranked Beer30 Light at the same level as Game Day Light, which is clearly the problem with user generated ranking websites. People don't know a bad beer if it gag\s them as they drink it.

Back to the beer review. It looks more like a can of grape soda than beer. Modeled loosely off of the Bud Light can, the similarity stops there. Upon pouring, it had surprisingly good color. And good, however short-lived, head. It lost all carbonation almost immediately.

Luckily, didn't taste as sweet as it smelled. Instead it tasted a tiny bit like bleach. Kind of like drinking a beer at an indoor pool. It lacked any crispness, or refreshing quality. So, again, kind of like you were drinking the water at an indoor pool. On the bright side, there was very little aftertaste.

All in all, it's not a gag-inducing horror, but it isn't good either. Honestly, I find myself a little disappointed. I searched for this beer for months, and in the end, it was less of a white whale, and more of a giant plastic bag that I just thought was a whale from a distance, which happens to me a lot.

I give it a D+

Kokanee, anyone?

Kokanee!! Its Glacier Fresh! I might have never heard if it, but its one of the best selling beers in Western Canada! Which is almost saying something!

                                        

Let's start with the facts: It's a Labatt product, and although brewed in Canada, it is still considered an American Adjunct Lager, proving that "American Adjunct Lager" is just code for "straw-colored backwash". It is advertised as being brewed with mountain stream water. Do they have any idea what fish do in that water?!

  

The word "Konakee" is a term for an inland sock-eye salmon in the Native American Okanagan language.

It has been kindly requested that I refrain from any jokes that poke fun at the rampant alcoholism that is present on Native American reservations. But that doesn't mean I'm not thinking of some really awful cheap jokes. I'm thinking them, alright. I'm thinking them right now...

Moving on... The packaging was as generic as they come. Blue skies, frosty mountains, the word 'beer'. Apparently there's a Sasquatch hidden somewhere on the label, but I couldn't find it. I'm pretty sure Wikipedia is just messing with me for not donating money like they asked me to.

The beer was highly carbonated, which left me very burpy. And much like every American Adjunct, it smelled like rank rotten cabbage. But the taste wasn't the worst. It's got an average alcohol percentage at around 5%, and lacks the standard gross after-taste, which makes it pretty darn drinkable.

Overall, I give it a high C on the cheap beer scale. Definitely a Kimber-do.

The Very First Beer of the Year

Today's beer is Kodiak Ridge Lager, a American Adjunct that I found at the local SaveMart for $3.99/6pack.

It had a logo that appealed to the ho-dunk backwoods hillbilly side of me (what? I have a lot of sides). Reading the can from top to bottom, it starts with a picture of a bear. Bears are Bad-ass. I'm intrigued. Under that, the word "Beer". Yes. I like beer, I'll read on. After that "Kodiak" Again. Bad-ass bear. Read on. Under that "Ridge" Meh... you're losing me, but then in finishes with "Lager" And I'm sold.  

I'd never heard of it, but it must have traveled to the grocery store via coal truck, because the tops of the cans were covered it soot. But it met my new requirement of not being a 30-rack, because I'm tired of getting stuck with 28 undrinkable toxic beers. So, I bought it.  But I had to clean it before I poured:

Upon pouring, I found that it had a less than impressive color. Its lightly carbonated, and the lacing is non-existent. It doesn't smell good. I don't really know how else to explain it. It smells like dirty water or something.

The distributors of Kodiak Ridge is in Novato, California, and its bottled at the Genesee Brewing Company in Rochester, New York, both of which are decided Kodiak-free zones, but whatever, if my city's claim to fame was being the northernmost town in Marin County, I'd want to associate myself with an bad ass Alaskan bear too. I'd also want to move.  

Back to the beer. Its not that thick sweet syrupy beer like the-beer-that-shall-not-be-named. Its very light, a little tangy, with very little after taste. Its certainly drinkable.
I give it a C-

I take it back.

I need to retract a statement I made earlier in regards to the worst beer I have ever had. I was wrong, Silver Stallion has been stripped of the title of worse-beer-ever. Don't get me wrong, its still a terrible, terrible beer. But it isn't the worst.

This review is of the actual worst beer I have ever had: Game-Day Ice. And I wasn't expecting a lot from the 7-11 produced sister beer of Game Day Light, at $2.99 for a twelve pack, and the notorious 'ice beer' label, it was cringe-inducing before I even cracked open the can.

The beer had color; a dark yellow, but absolutely no head. It was as flat as apple juice. In fact, we continued to compare it to apple juice throughout the taste-test. It smelled like a rotten fruit factory, and who the hell would manufacture rotten fruit? The taste was like corn syrupy garbage. It stuck in your mouth like peanut butter. Clearly the phrase "premium brewed" means nothing. Mike managed to take one sip. I drank 3 cans, because, well, we had 12. As I was drinking, I continued to search for adjectives to describe this  terrible beer, but it was decided one dimensional.

So the taste was terrible, and the smell was rank, but Game-Day Ice didn't clinch the title of Worst Beer Ever until 5am the next morning, when I started what would prove to be a seven hour vomit-fest. I threw-up everything I had ever eaten in my entire life, violently. I couldn't keep down ice, which I found someone ironic. Maybe more unfortunate than ironic... Anyway, Game-Day Ice is now a swear word in our house. It should not be consumed by anyone, its not even fit to be cooked with.

Game-Day Ice, Earning my lowest beer rating ever: F

Nobody likes a winner

I've gotten pretty good at picking out mediocre beers to review, and my most recent choice, Olympia, had real promise.

Retro label, limited information on the box, tell-nothing slogan, $7.99 for a twelve pack; All the signs were there.

Olympia is an American Adjunct Lager, which is quickly becoming my favorite type of beer to review. In the back of my head, I'm always comparing American Lagers to Budweiser, and I'm learning that its harder to emulate Budweiser than you might think; most of the time you end up with skunky fart juice.

However I admit, the box is pretty cool, in a stuff-you-find-in-your-grandparent's-basement kind of way. It looks like a failed attempt at Halloween-themed Poland Springs campaign. And the slogan, "It's the Water" apparently refers to the quality of water used in the beer making process, but I had to go online and find that out. 

On to the review. My first observation was that Olympia had remarkably rich color, head, and lacing. Far better than your average American Lager.

If you recall my last review of Silver Stallion, it was the worst beer I have ever reviewed, and possibly the worst I've ever tasted. So, I was a little hesitant to try something new. I allowed my fiancee to take the first sip, after which he remarked,  "It's beer." He's my junior reviewer. 

It's a good beer, not a great beer, but even so I'm at a loss for words. I've never had an opportunity to review a good beer before. Its got an enjoyable light taste that doesn't turn rank when it warms. Maybe there's something in the water afterall. 

I give Olympia B- within its field. I prefer it over Budweiser, merely for its hipster appeal. There. I said it.  

A Beer in Review

I have been writing reviews of mediocre beer for over a year now. Not as often as I would like to, but often enough to see a trend. I drink I lot of random crap.

Today we will be looking at Silver Stallion. Found at the same discount grocery store that introduced me such gems as Hamm's and  Tecate, Silver Stallion is an American lager brewed by City Brewing Company, the brewery that is responsible for Game-Day Light. Now, Silver Stallion was $2.99 for a six pack and that is twice the price of the Game-Day Light, so one can assume that it would be twice as good. One would be wrong.

An entire post could be devoted just to the labeling on the can, but I'll keep it brief.

First of all, the lettering is reminiscent of bottle of blue Gatorade. Secondly, the title Silver Stallion sounds more like a pet-name that you give your geriatric lover than is does an American lager. Although interesting enough, the beer is equally gag-inducing. Beer companies love referencing horses in their name, remember Caballo Extra? If I ever make a beer, I'm going to call it Donkey Punch.

As the label indicates, it is best served cold, very cold. In fact, it could probably benefit from a couple of ice cubes. It happens to be the exact color that your pee is the morning after you drink heavily, a phenomenon that I fondly refer to as the "Betsy-Wetsy Effect". The beer smells like apple cider vinegar mixed with farts, and tastes like warm Coors Light. On a more positive note, its highly carbonated.

That is the only positive note.

Review of the Jewish History Museum

Last month I went to the Jewish History Museum in Washington D.C. and I took a tour of their Nazi propaganda exhibit. I'm not a big World War II buff, and I don't do much research on the holocaust (I recently read Benjamin's Crossing, and that was about as formal a holocaust education I've had since high school). But I had heard good things about the museum, so we went mid-week, as soon as it opened, and it wasn't packed with screaming high schoolers, at least, not right away.



I was pretty concerned at first, as I was given a booklet with the story of a Jewish person who was effected by the holocaust, and then asked to step into an elevator that looked suspiciously like a train car. It was starting to look like the Jewish Museum was more of a Jew-musement park. I started to sweat a little as I thought about how tacky, and tasteless this could turn out. Thankfully, the amusement park atmosphere ended there.

All that being said, there isn't a whole lot I want to say about the museum itself. Just go see it if you ever get the chance. There are a few things that seem sort of bias, like for the most part, America is painted as the big war hero, with the glaring exception of a display that references a boat of Jewish refugees that tried to dock in Florida, only to be sent back to Europe. When I was there, there was a 9 or 10 year old girl standing in front of me, and she asked her mom, "Why did we send them away?", which I imagine was probably the single most horrifying and complicated thing this parent had ever had to answer to their child thus far. The mom just sort of fumbled for a few seconds before saying, "We didn't know what they were going to do.". I've been thinking about that statement for over a month now.