Beck’s is Germany’s best-known international beer brand with
availability in more than 90 countries. It has for a number of years been owned
by the biggest brewing behemoth on the planet, namely AB InBev, a company that
brews more than 45 billion litres of beer per year (almost 7 litres per living
human being), has a turnover in excess of US$47 billion (about the same as the
gross domestic product of Lithuania), and generates more than US$15 billion in
profit for its shareholders. Not surprisingly, the company has a reputation for
bland beers, cost cutting, buying and shutting breweries and other such shameful
shenanigans. Therefore, many beer lovers (myself included) try to avoid their
products, preferring to spend our hard-earned money supporting brewers that
care more about taste and quality. However, as I was browsing the beer shelves
in my local supermarket the other day, I failed to avoid noticing that Beck’s
have jumped on the Craft Beer Bandwagon (CBB), launching three new beers on the
market: an amber lager, a pale ale and a “traditional” pilsner (called “1873
pils” in reference to the year that Beck’s was originally founded), and providing the consumers with a very handy 3-pack containing one of each, making the purchase process very smooth indeed.
Needless to say, I saw it as my sacred duty to you, the
faithful readers of this blog, to purchase one bottle of each of these and
conduct a tasting session, to save you from having to go through this potentially
costly and painful experience yourselves – and so it came to pass that last
night a few weeks ago, I opened said three bottles and poured them into a glass with a minimum
of pomp but an appropriate amount of circumstance. The first one out was the
1873 Pils, and it poured nicely – as you would expect, it left the bottle
willingly once I had remembered to remove the bottle top and tilted the bottle
the required amount, and since I had cunningly positioned the glass underneath,
nothing was spilled. There was some head, which is always nice, though this
disappeared disappointingly quickly, which on the positive side gave me a
golden excuse to drink the beer faster. On the nose, the beer felt wet and a
little bit fizzy, but once it found its way down my gullet it revealed a fair
amount of taste. Where most German pilsners from the north are quite dry and
hoppy, this one was malty and had a touch of sweetness. Certainly not
unpleasant, but not something to write a poem about either, except possibly a mediocre
limerick.
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| It's pils as it was back in 1873, apparently. |
Next up was the Amber Lager. Some of my favourite lagers are
amber and some of my favourite ambers are lagers, so I had high hopes that this
would be one that would make its forefathers in Vienna proud. Unfortunately, it
was on the bland side. Not unpleasant, just lacking something – a bit like a
bee happily buzzing around pollenating some fairly attractive flowers, but
knowing in its tiny little heart that if it had only found an extra “r” it
could be a beer instead.
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| Don't underestimate the power of the amber side. |
Finally, there was the Pale Ale. This had more hops and
certainly a more flowery sort of taste, though this was also miles away from
some of the finer interpretations of the style both in terms of the overall
attack on the taste buds as well as the subtler aspects. However, credit should
be given for a decent effort – it was quite drinkable, and I finished the whole
bottle without having to force anything down. I could go on about notes of
freshly mown grass and lightly used badminton rackets, but for some reason such
descriptions never enter my head whilst drinking, only when I sit down
afterwards to write about a taste I have long since forgotten… so I won’t.
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| It's pale and presumably ale, but is it pale ale? |
In confusion, this was an eminently forgettable, but
nevertheless not unpleasant drinking session. My prediction is that these beers
will disappear from the market as suddenly as they appeared, and looking at their web site just now this is exactly what seems to have happened – the focus is
back on the standard pils and the crazy mixtures they concoct up there in
Bremen, like beer mixed with lemon, lime and other citrus fruits that really
should go nowhere near a decent brewery’s drink portfolio. Never mind – Beck’s
marketing department probably has an idea or two on how to continue to
contribute healthily to AB InBev’s profits, and they don’t need my help, even
though I’d be happy to provide expert advice for a very reasonable 10% cut.
Meanwhile, I shall shift my attention to other parts of Europe – I have
travelled a bit lately, which has enabled me to expand my beery horizons even
further. In other words – stay tuned. As they say in Thailand despite the fact that I haven't been there for 20 years: Chok dee!
