How ironic that I would hit rock bottom at an altitude of 37,947ft.
I’m writing this on an Emirates flight bound for Melbourne, and while everything about the service – the lemon-scented moist towelettes, fake stars on the roof – has been lovely, the beer selection is little short of dire.
The three choices were Heineken (blogged), Amstel Light (should’ve got that) and Budweiser – which I ended up ordering in the most mumbled embarrassed voice imaginable.
And you know what? I think it might actually be the worst beer so far.
Other terrible beers – like Pirate, Gordon Finest Gold and the insufferable lemon lime Sol – were at least so bad they were interesting (or so strong that I was too drunk to care), but Budweiser apparently has no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
It poured the colour of – excuse my brashness – urine after you’ve been drinking beer all night, with a loose fluffy head that quickly died. (Suicide, I expect.)
On the nose I got notes of hay, sugar, and quite honestly sick. In the mouth it was sweet and watery, with a remarkable lack of flavor and no hop bite at the finish. Incredible to think this the best selling beer in the world, because it. is. rubbish.
Today’s thank you has nothing to do with this beer, mercifully, but is going out to Stu Mckinlay of the Yeastie Boys. He is a) the blog’s second most prolific commenter (one to put on your CV, eh Stu?), and b) one of the people that got me properly interested in this NZ craft beer scene thing in the first place. Cheers and Slainte Mhath to you Stu.