• Kim Vavrick
  • Seven of the eight contestants in the Beer and Metal blind tasting

On Sunday, May 24, the last day of Chicago Craft Beer Week (“Chicago Craft Beer Eleven Days” doesn’t appear to be catching on), Thalia Hall comes down to earth with Crap Beer Day, a celebration of the Kamino clone troopers of the beer world—disposable, mass-produced, useful mostly in large quantities, and a source of widespread regret. Tickets are ten dollars, and starting at 4 PM the venue will sell bottles and cans for a buck apiece: Miller High Life, Schlitz, Mickey’s grenades, Hamm’s, Old Milwaukee, Tecate, Lone Star, and Icehouse. The Golden Horse Ranch Band will lead square-dance lessons starting at 5 PM.

As Kim walked into the room with the glasses, she said, “Smells like high school!” I thought it smelled more like what happens when you leave a piece of string cheese out on the dashboard of your car—if I’d known this was Old Style, a beer I’ve had more times than I can count, I would’ve been moved to consider the folly of sticking my face into a goblet of something that’s meant to be drunk very quickly and very cold, preferably straight out of the can. “These are shotgunning beers,” as Kim put it.

“This looks a lot like the other one,” said Ed, an observation that any of us could’ve made at any point in the afternoon. “I did get a little bit of vinegar.” (“I think that’s just alcohol,” Adam interjected.) Ed went on: “The flavor is nonexistent. It’s almost like a phantom beer.” Heroically, he speculated that it might be Miller Extra Lite, which doesn’t even exist.

I hated the smell of this beer so much I could hardly bring myself to taste it. It was like a dirty dishcloth that’d been sitting out wet for two days. That stink must’ve been produced by very volatile compounds, however, because it faded away in just a couple minutes. It was replaced by a corn-syrup aroma, though the beer was relatively dry on the palate. I got a touch of caramel malt, which right away made this more substantial than beer number two. Maybe even a bit of peppery hops? Then sulfur, hard-water scale, and black olive (but I’m pretty sure Adam put that in my head).

I was inclined to agree. Other than the smell, this was the best beer so far. You could tell it had a decent dose of hops, because they’d photodegraded horribly. I persuaded myself that I could taste a crisp spiciness, like scallion, pepper, and lime rind. I guessed Old Style too, but I should’ve figured it was something in a clear bottle.

I liked the way this beer started sweet, with the corn flavor underlined by a touch of molasses or brown sugar (“Candied yams,” said Adam), then finished clean and dry with a hint of lemon zest. I decided it might be Miller High Life, because I generally enjoy the Champagne of Beers. Little did I know that wasn’t even one of our options.