Something different
This beer thing is getting difficult. It’s not that I no l longer enjoy drinking the beers—I do enjoy drinking beer—it’s just become increasingly hard to write about them. Like last night, I couldn’t scratch together two hundred words for one of the best beers I’ve ever had, and easily the best that’s less than $10 for a six-pack. The problem I’m finding is that it’s hard to write about good beers unless they’re also really weird beers, and I burned through too many weird beers early on. I need to either pick up something I know I’m going to hate (Arrogant Bastard?); something with enough of a story, innate or potential, that I can spend a post talking about that instead of the beer itself, or something just completely off the wall. Something to kick me out of my funk Somethng to make notable the usual aspects of usual beers.
I’m stuck in a rut. After a particularly bad store-bought meal last night, I shouted my woes into the æther and joked that, since I seem to mostly eat pasta when I cook for myself, I need to find another country to fixate on. Some took this as a call for suggestions, and Mexico and Thailand were presented. I am grateful for that; they both give me some ideas for future meals, and in the short term it made tonight taco night. But then I thought some more: what would be the best drink for tacos? Mexico brews some beers, of course, and most of them are pretty bland. The cheap Mexican beers that get imported tend to taste like cheap American beers, the biggest difference being that people like sticking limes in Mexican beers for some reason. But there’s something else curious about Mexico and beer, something I learned about from the Americans.
The last place I lived was in a Latino neighborhood, and, since it was near the highway and had only recently citied up, there were billboards everywhere. One in particular, the one over the taqueria, unfolded the tale of American beers trying to tap into a new market. It started fairly simple: Budweiser added lime, which I guess saves a couple of steps and the risk of cutting a finger. Then Miller added lime, but they called it Miler Chill. Isn’t there a Spanish word for that? Couldn’t they have gone with Miller Fresca or something like that? Whatever, it’s their beer. Maybe they’re really trying to market to white people who like tacos. But there was one part of the inappropriately-English tagline that stood out, “chelada-style.” Huh? I didn’t think much of it, though, until Budweiser raised the stakes with their own “chelada,” Budweiser & Clamato (?!). Ok what in the hell, that sounds gross, something’s going on.
The chelada of Bud and Miller is short for michelada, a sort of a beer-based Bloody Mary. But while adding clam juice to the tomato juice is something that only crazy people do to a Bloody Mary, clamato seems to be norm for this Mexican drink. Tomato juice and clam juice and beer sounds just awful, but maybe I’m just being too uptight. I don’t know what clamato tastes like, just that I think clams are gross (they’re a filter). So why not try something new, right? You only live once.
Digging around on the Internet revealed only chaos, a cacophony of michelada recipes, each one more horrid than the last. Some demanded Worcestershire sauce for authenticity, some used Maggi seasoning for the same reason. There were shouted disagreements over the fruits, the spices, what brand of hot sauce to use, but, tellingly, never over the beer. I decided to base my attempt around a basic Bloody Mary formulation. I took a picture of what ended up in the drink, along with whatever else I didn’t feel like moving off the counter.
The beer is Dos Equis Lager Especial, and it will be mixed with Clamato, lime juice, Tapatío and Pickapeppa sauce. I’ve come to terms with clam juice, but I’m still going to let Worcestershire sauce squick me out. Quit putting seafood in things, all of you. It came out looking like this:
Anyway, it doesn’t smell fishy, so maybe it won’t be so bad. The first couple of cautious sips go ok, but as I drink a little more it tastes like something’s wrong. It’s not even the clam juice (or least not all of it’s the clam juice). There’s a vinagery sourness to the whole thing that I really don’t like. I made another attempt with some different ratios and ingredients—less lime, normal tomato juice, lots more spices—but no, same problem. I just can’t imagine a situation where I’d think mixing beer and tomatoes would be a good idea.
Oh well, now I know. So how about just the beer, instead?
It’s really not bad. It has a good bit of a grassy, hoppy taste, but there’s also a sweet flavor to it, and it’s a little bit flowery. The sweet taste makes it feel less crisp and clean than a usual Pilsener, but at least there is some flavor, and it’s a welcome chaser to a big mouthful of hot sauce.

