Pabst Blue Ribbon

Where did this come from? Well, let me tell you about that. I've resisted the PBR tallboy thing out of hidebound integrity and stubborn orneriness. If I was more of a businessman and less of quixotic champion of more forward thinking in beer choices, I'd have been on that bandwagon long ago. We do Hamm's cans at the Nile for people who want a cheap can and just don't give a darn. I did PBR on tap, years ago, when I kicked off Miller and Budweiser, but have since switched to Grain Belt Premium for the cheap tap, because at least I'm supporting a Minnesota brewery, and a family-owned one, at that.

So, a Hip Hop group doing a show here wanted to have some PBR promotion, but both the band and the local PBR rep (who I've known for years, in various contexts) assumed we were already selling PBR tallboys. Long story short: now we've got PBR tallboys! The show wasn't quite as successful as I'd imagined, but they're happy, we're happy, no one got hurt. And there's plenty of PBR tallboys! Come on in, hipsters, it's safe for you, PBR tallboys for all, huzzah!

Let's look back on my first review of PBR, from a bottle, back in November, 2003, almost eight years ago.

I had been reading with interest the many newspaper and magazine articles relating the chic-ness that this lager enjoys within the cool and cultured set, and sought out to try one of these myself and find out if I can hang with the hipsters and quaff their brew. So I elbow-jabbed that mumbling, shaggy Bohemian-type, made off with his cold tall one, and absconded to a faraway booth in this desolate rock club, pen light in hand, to shine on my notebook as I search to divine the secrets of this mystical, magical beer.

Okay, I'm lying.
In truth, you see, I'm a fraud. This is my beer. If I ever praised a beer before for it's flavor, taste, or character, well, that was bull. I don't think they should have anything to do with any beverage, especially beer. Yeah, if you ever catch me without a whole case of PBR in the fridge, I must be having a bad day.

I lie again. I sample this in the spirit of honoring that adage of not knocking it if you ain't tried it. Actually, I must have tried it at some point, but how could I remember? So, here we go...
Appearance: sickly pale yellow color, very clear, just the way beer is supposed to be, dammit! Head is bone-white, fluffy, and quite prodigious, slowly, softly setling.
Aroma: very spare, bone-dry, but not terrible. Typical plain lager-y smell, without skunk or trace of adjuncts. A bit of sweetness, too, just a bit.
Taste: wetness. Nothing. The nadir, nada. Zilch. If it exists at all, it comes and goes without saying hello. Actually, again, not BAD, per se, but not really anything, either.
Body, light as can be, texture, none, finish? F'geddaboudit!
Really, there's nothing to recommend and no pleasure to be found, if you a seeker of taste in any form.
I'll quote beer scribe Stephen Beaumont's #1 reason to drink PBR, from his webite:
"You just don't care anymore."
Time spent with this beer is time wasted indeed.
This does the opposite of what a beer should do, in that it makes me more thirsty! For a real beer!