The Cheap Beer Diaries

It's spring 2008 and the definition of cheap beer is changing. Barley malt and hop prices are going up, up, up and there seems to be no ceiling in sight. Fortunately, Trader Joe (or in this case Trader Josef, his German counterpart) is keeping prices down for a decent beer. The entire Josef Brau range of beers can be found for $6 a six-pack. Sure, if you really want to save money at Trader Joe's you can pick up a six-pack of Mountain Creek ($3 for six cans), but Trader Josef offers real value and a heck of a lot more real beer flavor.

Trader Josef's Dunkelweizen is a seasonal offering that shows up at Trader Joe's stores in the spring. It pours very murky, but the murkiness is just yeast, and hefe-weizens are naturally cloudy with yeast. The Hefe-weizen style originates in Germany and "hefe" means "with yeast" in German. There's lots of B-complex in yeast, which is good for you. That said, I'm surprised at the amount of yeast that ends up in my glass, even as I take measures to keep some of the yeast at the bottom of the bottle out of my glass. There's enough in suspension to probably start fermenting a typical batch of homebrew.

The beer has a decent. It smells a little spicy (normal for a hefe-weizen), but also little metallic. A metallic aroma is kind of expected in a cheaper beer. The problem is this beer isn't that cheap. The beer still tastes good, with some sweet caramel aromas, a subtle spiciness (perhaps some clove?) and a dry-ish finish. The body is light, so it goes down easy. I'd probably pick up more of this if I was in the mood for dunkelweizen and didn't feel like paying for the fancy German imports.

Trader Joe's is perhaps my favorite grocery store. The prices are good (if you're careful) and they stock lots of fun house brands. You can get house brand everything at Trader Joe's: even beer.

About half of Trader Joe's beers are made by an entity called the Steinhaus Brewing Co. and most of these beers are about $5 a six-pack.

First up is Frugal Joe's Ordinary Beer. This beer not only ordinary, it is a rather poor example of a "macrobrew" with the sweet and prickly graininess of six-row malt and not enough hops. Frugal Joe isn't just "frugal", he's a cheap bastard. You might be paying four bucks a six-pack, but it's worth it to bump up a buck for some of the other brews.

Gila Monster is a simple amber beer with a smooth mouthfeel and a bit of adjunct flavor. It's not that bad, but not that good either. It looks good, with lace down the sides of the glass and a sustaining 1/8-inch head, but this beer is otherwise pretty malty on the palate and a bit too sweet for my tastes.

Next up we have the Jumping Cow Amber Ale. This beer has a fantastic appearance. It's a light amber ale with a rocky head that leaves lace behind. It doesn't have much of a nose (most cheap beer doesn't offer much in the aroma department), except for a hint of malt and adjunct. The Jumping Cow is very, very smooth with a very light caramel malt flavor, some fruitiness and a bit of a coarse bitter finish.

We move on to the Fat Weasel Ale. This beer pours ridiculously clear with tons of carbonation that forms a rather impressive rocky head that settles slowly into a fairly dense layer of foam. This is a real good lookin' beer, unfortunately it gets worse from here...

First, the aroma is kind of bubblegum-like and grainy. Next, the taste is sweet and grainy with an unpleasant bitterness in the finish. This Fat Weasel tastes more like a strong European lager than an ale, with a grainy and bitter fusel alcohol-laden finish. Forgot whatever anybody else says about this beer: it is nothing more than a bad malt liquor masquerading as an ale. I'd sooner drink Haffenreffer Private Stock instead of this crap.

Overall, the Fat Weasel is good for a fairly cheap buzz, but only if you like your beer grainy and bitter.

Fortunately, Trader Joe redeems himself with Black Toad Ale, a dark ale that poured into an Imperial pint glass, has a nice thick off-white head and grainy, cocoa-like aroma. The first sip is smooth, with some light roasted malt flavors balanced by a bit of chocolate and lightly bitter hops. The bottle may say dark ale, but this beer has me thinking black lager instead of porter, as it is very clean tasting. The finish is nicely balanced with a pleasant roasted character. Overall, a pretty drinkable dark beer and a good buy.

All of the above beers (brewed by Steinhaus) can be had for less than a dollar a bottle. Some of them (such as the Frugal Joe's Ordinary Beer and the Fat Weasel Ale) have their flaws, but offer a lot of flavor for the buck. Next time we'll sample some of the Trader Joe's Brewing Co. beers, most of which are replicas of German beer styles, such as lager and bock.

I recently picked up some Rhinelander beer for $5 a 12-pack. Why? Because there's nothin' like the pure, clean taste of the Northwoods.

The "pure, clean, taste of the Northwoods"...what exactly does this mean? If you've ever been to Northern Wisconsin (or in my case, Northern Michigan) you've no doubt enjoyed the clean, fresh air. That's what Rhinelander beer tastes like to me; like a clean breath of fresh air. The crisp malt flavor is like the first breath I take early in the morning up at the lake. The genius of the flavor of Rhinelander beer is in it's simplicity. According to the Huber Brewery, Rhinelander is made with two-row malt and Galena hops, water and yeast. That's simplicity in a bottle, or these days, a can.

Rhinelander Original, formerly known as Rhinelander Export, has a fairly long history in Wisconsin. According to the Cheap Beer Server, Rhinelander was originaly produced in Rhinelander, Wisc., starting in 1882. The brewery was successful with this beer up until the early 1960s, when the brand was bought by the Huber Brewery, much further south in Monroe. I've never tasted the original Rhinelander, so I can't say if the beer has changed much through the past few decades, but I can say that it hasn't changed much in the last few years since I started drinking it.

Huber recently decided to put Rhinelander in cans instead bottles, which pretty much coincided with the phasing out of venerable returnables. My first encounter with Rhinelander beer was in these heavy, brown returnable bottles. To be precise, I first encountered Rhinelander Bock, which I believe is no longer produced. A few years later I was able to try the pure, golden Rhinelander beer. The beer with the "Rhine taste", whatever that is. Anyhow, I miss the returnables, but for now I'll buy the beer in cans, especially when it's on sale.

Rhinelander is a great summer beer that offers more real beer flavor than Budweiser, Miller and Coors products.

For those of you who have tried the Berghoff range (Huber Brewing Company; Monroe, WI), you'll know that this beer provides one of the best bangs for your brew bucks. I live in suburban Chicago and have ample opportunity to find Berghoff beer in my local beer stores, almost always priced a few dollars less per six-pack then most craft or even regional 'special' brews. Recently, Main Street Liquors in Countryside, IL had all Berghoff beers (lager, dark lager, pale ale, etc.) on sale for $3.99 a six-pack. That's a great deal on a beer that is usually priced nicely at $4.99 a sixer. The sale was at the end of June, but they frequently bring the sale back.

Of all the Berghoff range, I still prefer the tried-and-true workaday lager beer over all others, though the others are made with considerable care and quality. Even the reception hall where my wedding was held had Berghoff Dark on tap! (Tap Berghoff in Chicago can be an elusive proposition).

I've been drinking Berghoff beer for at least 15 years, and it's always pleasing on the palette as well as the wallet.

I think the world's greatest $9 pitcher of beer can be had at Moody's Pub, 5910 N. Broadway Ave., in Chicago, Ill. This dark, dank and ridiculously smoky establishment pours wonderfully tasty pitchers of Anchor Steam for just nine bucks. The pride of the San Francisco brewing scene, that American Classic, Anchor Steam. That caramelly malt flavor backed by a bracing bitter finish is what makes this beer so tasty and is made especially enjoyable on tap at Moody's for a measley nine bucks.

Of course, there is more than just the Steam at Moody's. Other cheap and tasty beers on tap include Becks, Berghoff Dark, Michelob and Michelob Light. When me and my companions first walked into Moody's, we were overcome with smoke; not cigaratte smoke, but smoke from the grill -- the instense aroma of onion rings and burgers. To be honest, I'd never entered such a smoke-filled establishment in my life and after briefly being struck by the curiousity of the very dark, smoke-filled room, me and my companions fled to the outdoors and the huge beer garden.

A summer evening at Moody's is very pleasureable outside in the beer garden, sitting underneath a canopy of trees on a huge deck on a warm June evening, almost completely in the dark. (You can't be afraid of the dark to sit in the beer garden at Moody's and I'm not talking about the dark beer.) One strains the eyes to see their companion across the table, lit only by a flickering patio candle. Lighted globes mark the perimeter of the space, while a lone, naked lightbulb points out some steps that must be carefully navigated by the wait staff, and serve as a built-in sobriety test for patrons.

I would like to go back to Moody's and actually taste the onion rings that we smelled all night long; although the smoke from the grill was so thick I felt like I had conusmed a plate of them. I'm told the burgers are classic and can't be missed. Other fare is offered, too, and the menu can be browsed at moodyspub.com/.

They might look a little different, but the World's Largest Six Pack lives on. I can't say I've seen it in person, but I'm told it's a sight to behold. Six towers painted to look like beer cans. It was the old G. Heileman brewery that first painted those cans, but a few years ago they were re-painted by a new brewer giving rebirth to a classic beer flavor. That classic flavor, choice malts cut with a bit of maize and naturally krausened for your pleasure, packaged as beer known as Old Style. The old brand may live on, brewed in Texas bY Pabst, but the brewing tradition continues in LaCrosse, Wisc., at City Brewery.
The folks at City Brewery produce some good, cheap beers and among the few different core brands that make up the portfolio, is the LaCrosse Lager. Some say that LaCrosse Lager is the true Old Style, the original recipe. I don't know if that's the truth and I never was enough of an Old Style drinker to really discern a difference, but I would say that LaCrosse Lager is very smooth, sweetish, drinkable lager beer. Of course, at $11 for a 30-pack of cans, it's definitely a cheap beer. (I prefer the bottles myself, even though they cost a little more, because the beer seems to taste better. But, then again, I might getting snobbish.)
A lot of people who grew up in the 1970s may remember how the old G. Heileman brewery advertised Old Style as being "fully krausened." Well, krausening isn't just a marketing term, it's a real process of mixing freshly fermenting beer with beer that is mostly or completely fermented in order to add carbonation. This is an German technique not practiced by larger megabrewers such as Anheuser-Busch.
Is it the natural carbonation that gives LaCrosse Lager its highly drinkable smooth flavor? I would say so, but what adds to this lager's appeal is the delicate aroma of fresh grain and the real malt flavor. If you're interested in drier, lighter version of LaCrosse Lager you should try Lacrosse Lager Light, which is pretty much today's version of Old Style.
Anyone who knows me, knows that it can take me awhile to get to the point of a story, so I'll sum up by saying that Old Style drinkers in the Midwest should latch on to this reborn LaCrosse brewery and its LaCrosse Lager.

It was the summer of 1995, I believe, when I spotted my first bottle of Blatz. A couple 40-ounce bottles were sitting on the ground next to grill. I was strolling through a park when I noticed somebody grilling bratwurst. The secret ingredient appeared to be boiling the brats in Blatz beer. I asked the gentleman why he chose to cook his wurst in Blatz.

"That's about all it's good for," he replied.

I would disagree, but not until years later, when I had my first Blatz draft. I was with my wife and we had just finished hiking along the I&M Canal in Lemont, Ill., when I noticed a very old neon sign in front of a tavern proclaiming, "Blatz on Tap." I turned to my wife, Carol, and asked, "Do you think...". "Do I think what," she replied. I pointed to the sign. "Do you think they still have Blatz on tap? I haven't seen it years!"

We walked up the street, went through the old wooden screen door adorned with an old tin sign advertising 7-UP, and seemed to step back through time. The tavern, Tom's Place, sported a black and white checkered tile floor and a green tin ceiling. My eyes focused on the right side of the room, and at great old wooden bar, I spotted it: a Blatz tapper. We perched ourselves on top of a couple bar stools and asked the bartender for two glasses of Blatz. The bartender poured our Blatz drafts into typical old-fashioned 10-ounce pilsner glasses. The beer poured with just a little bit of foam that quickly dissipated. It tasted light, but it didn't taste like the more common light beers of today. It had just a touch of body and a surprisingly creamy smoothness. The finish was slightly sweet, but crisp, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this historic beer. Perhaps it was the heat, but I think it was history.

Blatz has been around for well over a century. Your father or grandfather might remember the 1950s TV commercials, singing the praises of Blatz with the line, "I'm from Milwaukee and I ought to know." I have a VHS tape of old beer commercials and they're quite entertaining. I watch them as a "background video" to whatever music I'm listening to or when I'm in a cheap beer drinking mood and want to sing along to old jingles.

Valentine Blatz opened the brewery in 1851. According to the Cheap Beer Server, Blatz was actually the first Milwaukee brewer to go national, but it was forced to close in 1959, and the label was sold to Pabst. Heileman purchased it in 1969 after Pabst's anti-trust problems, then Pabst got it back when they bought Stroh's. Among the big Milwaukee brewers all that's remaining in town is Miller. There's a ton of brewery history in Milwaukee, and for the most part, it's being treated with great respect. Some of the Cream City's breweries are being reused as retail and residential space. The beers once produced by Blatz, Pabst and Schlitz are now made in Texas by Pabst Brewing Co.

Meanwhile, back at Tom's Place, I'm watching the Cubs lose, and enjoying my Blatz beer in a saloon that seems to not have changed much since Blatz was sold to Pabst. A mural, mostly covered with old Blatz advertising, decorates part of the wall behind the bar at Tom's. One of the wall decorations is fairly cheeky, if you know what I mean, and brings new meaning to the phrase, " bottoms up." It seems that one of the amenities at Tom's is that you can get your booze to go, with bottles of liquor priced and stocked in cabinets at one end of the bar. There's no grill at Tom's, as one patron found out, but you can get a boneless chicken for 50 cents -- just don't expect a filet -- because what you'll get is a hard boiled egg from a little wire carousel behind the bar. Other snacks can be had, too, such as chips and pretzels. The only modern touches are the color TVs, the electronic dart board and the obligatory Golden Tee video game. Aside from the modern entertainment, Tom's Place showcases it's history, which is alive well -- just like Blatz draft.

We finish our beers and let the bartender know we're ready to settle up.

"That'll be $2.50," she says.

"Naw, it's priceless," I reply.