This is officially our 700th post on the site. It’s a little hard to believe that we started this thing not quite two years ago and have reached a landmark. Writing that much is always a lot of work, but we hope to keep putting posts up. At any rate, I thought we would do something very special and write a Bud Light review for number 700.
It’s amazing what I’ve not tasted in this beer before, but I gave it another try and, to my surprise, it was bursting with all sorts of subtle qualities underneath. Granted, most of you are not as good at tasting as am I, so I’m expecting you not to pick it up and snub my pretensions.
The Pour: Although, by all empirical data, this beer looks to be a very light straw and pale yellow with little substance, taking a closer look will reveal the real depth of the this beer’s color schemes. Of course I have to admit from the start that my eyes are actually filled with natural prisms, so I can readily break what appears to be colorless light into rainbows. I noted an iridescent myriad of vividness that appeared like the confluence of heaven and earth. The only comparison I could make would be a psychotropic trip on lysergic acid diethylamide, which made me regret that you all have normal human eyes. Have you even actually seen before? You’re like Neo in the Matrix. Anyway, I suppose you believe the head fades quickly on this beer but, of course, you would be wrong. If you really look deep into the glass, you will see happy baby sea horses and protoplasm frolicking in a veritable sea of marshmallow skies. But look closer still and you will note that this a blacker than night Baltic Porter with a tawny tan cap much like aged sepia photo of distant human relatives.
The Nose: It may seem like there is not much going on in this beer except for the few aromas that are typical of almost every AB—I mean, Inbev product. I assure you that there is more than meets that eye, as my own keen observing eye has noted. The brew smells so richly of mahogany that Ron Burgundy would be reduced to jealous tears. I noted an asparagus nose on the brew as well. However, it was not normal asparagus that caught my attention; I immediately recognized that this was captive asparagus from Tanzania. From the nose, it appears that it had the same quality of asparagus that complete four years of indentured service while working in a three ring circus of rescued animals. Additionally, some of the sulphur tones on the nose reminded me of the way the earth’s crust smelled while it was in its liquid form, before it cooled several billion years ago, which I still smell in the air, so I know the aroma. Other notes were James Dean’s cardigan, Donkey Lips from Salute Your Shorts, Kramer’s hair gel that he used during the first part of season four of Seinfeld. Dodo feathers from Cloud-Koo-Koo-Land intermingled with Lost City of Atlantis’s mineral earth. Bud Light also smelled how I imagine the hair of Confucius would taste: wise. Yep…I just described a beer as smelling wise.
How else did it smell? Bud Light smelled like Plato’s cave, like, Socrate’s line of argumentation, like the Shire. Which reminds me, it also smelled sweeter than hobit-meat to an hungry orc. It’s better than Entwash and twice as magical. I remember Mark Twain reminiscing about how great Southern food was while he was in Europe; he describes about 200 foods, and I caught many of those aromas in this beer—although, the pies he describes were the heaviest aromas. This was balanced out by the Blue Wensleydale cheese qualities, Kopi Luwak coffee (this is the famous poop coffee), and honeysuckle glands pickled in new Fruit of the Loom tank tops. What an amazing nose on this beer! I hope this helps you to see why I’m not reviewing more beers in depth. Can you imagine if I really told you what I smell on the nose of an imperial stout? Last, but not least, there was the distinct smell of Quarks. Of course, I smelled the nucleus, protons, and neutrons of the beer atoms as well.
The Taste: All my superior tasting might went into this beer. Again, at first glance, you might believe this to be an exercise in vapid insipidity, but I assure you that the subtle flavors are amazing. The first taste was Mr. Ed’s horse blanket and Flipper’s nostril with a hint of the dorsal fin thrown in. Pre-neo-lithic sandstone and ammonia-treated limestone contributed to a superb Charleton Heston sweat quality that would have occurred between “Planet of the Apes” and “Macbeth.” Purple New Hampshire Syringa (a.k.a., lilac) and runners’ aglets were also prominent. In addition, the malts hinted at 84.45721% pure Turkish hazelnut extract. When I sipped the beer I was also reminded of Guatemalan worry dolls and Mycenaen pottery that I’ve licked on several occasion. The latter were housed at a museum in Athens, where I was allowed to touch and lick anything the museum owned. Finally, Banshee eyelashes and antiquated written Irish limericks (don’t even think that the word Nantucket is part of the equation) rounded out the full and wonderful character of Bud Light.
Overall, there you have it. Bud Light is more than meets your eye, nose, and mouth. My earnest desire is that this will help build your tasting skills, make beer much more approachable, and lessen the pretentious approaches that the neophyte has toward tasting beer.