Yes, the calendar says late autumn but, except for 3, maybe 4 days last week, the thermometer says 80 degrees out. And the barometer says… says… oh my god, you ATE the barometer!? Jesus, man! What were you thinking!?Well, we’ll deal with that mess later. For now… yes… Pacifico–a summer beer’s near-vernal reprise.

OK so let’s just say it: this light lager beer has basically no “beer” qualities to it. That is not to say it’s not, in its own way a quality brewed beverage, it’s just that the usual criteria for beer assessment—IBU’s, hop variations, malt balance, toasted or smokey or molasses notes, et all—basically can’t be applied.

Pacifico has no hop aroma to speak of. The littlest bit of bitterness in the taste and finish exists but it’s entirely unrecognizable as hops. The malt body is light and mildly sweet. It doesn’t taste “malty” per say, just… lightly “beery,” if I may. Here’s the thing: whether it’s July and you just mowed the lawn or it’s November and you put on a sweater and then went outside and remembered you live in California, this is a damn refreshing beer. And frankly even when there is a winter chill to the air sometimes I will reach for a Pacifico (provided there is not a Sierra Nevada Celebration or Yuengling or Sam Adams Anything or… yeah…) with pleasure and quaff it down in 3 to 5 sips. Not a lot of taste, maybe, but treat it like the refreshing beverage it is, toss in a lime and you’re golden, baby. Very pale golden with a finger width of rapidly dispersing head if you poured it right.

Now for one of the Captain’s favorite activities… unabashed praise for a Samuel Adams beer.

I said it last year and I say it again this year: winter beers are my favorite. And as of the past few days, they’re here! Why, Mrs. Beer and I met up with Sergeant Stout over the weekend over several Sierra Nevada Celebration Ales and a few New Belgium 1554s. Both grand slams of beer. Nevermind that it was nearly 90 degrees last week—it rained a bit over the weekend, it was Halloween, temperatures dropped and winter beers flowed. Finally. I also had my first egg nog of the season. It was exquisite.

Now… to the beer at hand. When a Sam Adams beer says “lager” on its label you always know it is with some degree of wink-n-smile going on. Thier Black Lager and, say, a Heineken have as much in common as Zima* and Pinot Noir. Sam Adams signature Boston Lager has more complexity and flavor than most purported “ales” can shake a stick at. So yes, technically this is a lager but it’s a BIG lager.

In fact it is a bock style lager. That’s more accurate than “big.” I should have just said that initially but I didn’t and we can never go back. A winter bock. The beer pours out into a nutty brown body with a solid tan head on top. The first aroma you’ll get is a rich malt scent punctuated by spice… is that cinamon and ginger? Why, yes it is (and apparently a wacky rare exotic cinamon at that). The taste of the beer is defined by this complex spiced malt but the hops, in true Sam Adams fashion, are no shrinking violets. No! The hop presence is gently bracing in the sip and pronounced in the finish, taking the sweet edge off the malt and leaving you instead with a cinamon spice, bready taste in the mouth, a bit of pine left over on certain areas of the tongue. It… it tastes like winter. Just go get some. Just go.

*did you hear that Zima has been phased out? Production has halted and by early ’09 all stocks should be depleted. So if you see some Zima somewhere and want to, for a wistful moment, remember that Zomething Different from the heady Crystal Clear Pepsi and Hypercolor clothing days of the mid 90s, snap up all you can, buddy.

Friends! I’m in the mix. Back on track. Uh… reviewing… some… beers. OK so normally if you pick up a six pack of canned beers, you start of with your expectations low. There are certain breweries that have begun canning good beer (try an Archer Ale) but they’re limited and usually the brews cost more for a sixer than… $3.99. So I was skeptical but feeling cheap. Call it research.

My life has not been changed, but I was pleasantly surprised.

The Minhas Brewery in Wisconsin was an unknown to me before trying the beer, and this remains the only offering of theirs I have tried or, for that matter, ever seen. It’s… well… it’s a lager. And a pretty good one. Maybe not Yuengling or anything but priced like a Natural or Beast, I’ll take it. The beer actually has some of the qualities of a German brew.

I poured the first one out into a glass (of course… I mean Jesus, man!) and admired its pale amber/yellow body and decent, gradually diminishing head. The aroma bespoke* strong maltiness and light hop aroma. Frankly there’s nothing pronounced about the taste of this brew, but it does taste good. A bready malt is balanced by floral hops that grow more pronounced at the finish. As the beer warmed and the carbonation subsided, it took on a slightly funky aspect, with notes of Parliament and George Clinton and a slightly wet wool kind of aroma. There’s an easy fix though, ladies. Drank ‘er faster.

* sorry… you can hit me.

Well, it’s still summer. It’s still hot (as all hell) here in Southern California* so yeah, I bought some Molson lager. It was priced to sell and I was in no mood to uh… like… I don’t know where this sentence is going. Anyway, it’s not going to win any medals or accolades at snooty (snotty) beer tasting events, but it’s crisp and refreshing and inarguably beer.

Which sometimes, just being beer, is enough. So… details… it’s a lager; golden yellow body, decently thick head, crisp with an active carbonation. Said sparkle swirls around a mild hop note, very light in the aroma and present if not assertive in the taste. A light, faint malt character without much distinction (i.e. bready, toast, coffee—any of that business) leans towards the sweeter side. And um… it’s a good light summer beer. Grab a Molson expecting little and you will indeed be refreshed.

* which is where my mind stays but is not, incidentally, my state of mind. I’ll always be an cheerful, screaming Aleut at heart.

Spring is here, and the time for drinking Kronenbourg is upon us. While France might not be known for its exceptional beer, try to think of Kronenbourg to France as being the same as Perroni to Italy. It is one of the most drinkable and enjoyable lagers I’ve had from such a large brewery.

Kronenbourg has a light, malty taste up front, but a very crisp and slightly bitter aftertaste. The overall sensation is very smooth and pleasant- perfect for a sunny day with nothing to do but drink a few beers. The taste up front is almost floral. To be clear, this is nothing like a hearty Czech lager saying “Hey asshole, I’m here and I’m beer.” It is more like, “Bonjour, I am Kronenbourg- how are you this evening? We have some exquisite specials tonight. But first, can I get you some more of me?”

All characterizations of how the beer would sound if it were to magically come alive aside, I highly recommend this beer whenever you want a well crafted, lighter beer. In other words, whenever you feel the need to order Stella Artois, just order a Kronenbourg (or a Perroni) instead. Plus, you will look very hep with your stylish green bottle in your hand.

All this talk of Kronenbourg makes me want to go buy some Kronenbourg (and Perroni)…