When I was in the UK, I was there to enjoy all the beers I couldn’t have back home. This meant sampling most everything from the unpronounceable to the standard “import” available at the local Tesco. The standard selections of beer included such favorites as Guinness, Stella Artois, Kronenberg 1664, Heineken, Fosters, and tonight’s focus, Tennent’s Lager. Now, the beer I had over there was much different from the one I found a few weeks ago. The Tennent’s I found in the UK was actually of the Strong Lager variety. There are a few differences I need to address. The Strong Lager came in a 500ml can at 9.0% ABV. This beer was 2-3 times stronger in alcohol than what everyone else had found, compounded with the fact Tennent’s came in a larger can and a 4-pack. You could hardly drink this beer without chasing it with a drink as sweet as Strongbow.

Now, if I may interject into my own review here, I would like to speak briefly upon the concept of UK units. Here in the US, we are used to reading the ABV (alcohol by volume) of our beer. In the UK, I had to quickly catch up on their measurements of UK units. The brilliant part of UK units is that the value is calculated based on volume. In the US you can have a can of beer at 8% or a bottle at 3.2% and never really know how much you had to drink. With UK units, you just add it all up. One UK unit is equal to 10ml of pure alcohol. It doesn’t get much more simple than that (easy calculations are always a nice thing after a few taste testings). I would love for the US to adopt this system, right after we move to metric. If you have experience with the UK unit system, or have further thoughts, please follow up with me in a comment for this post.

To get back with the review, you could say that I was eager to pick up the Tennent’s Lager not out of fondness for its taste, but more so for nostalgic reasons. I had forgotten, however, that the Tennent’s in the UK was the Super Strong Lager at 4.5 UK units (9%), whereas this imported Tennent’s Lager was at a much more palatable 5% ABV. Not to spoil the ending, but the lighter in ABV import was a much better tasting beer. Now, on to the review!

Appearance

As a European import, you could have guessed that Tennent’s Lager came in a light green glass bottle. Further, I probably won’t surprise you with the fact that this Scottish brew smelled a little skunky as I poured it into a glass. It wasn’t an offensive odor, but something all too familiar with these European lagers. The beer looked very crisp and golden as it fizzed away in its Pilsner glass. There was a small amount of head on top of the lager, and I was quite surprised at how well that amount of head was retained. When you put light through the back of the glass, you can see the carbonation in the beer and the large bubbles rising to the top.

Aroma

Once you get past the initial “probably a result of the green bottle” smell, the aroma of this beer is actually quite pleasant. Light, yet contained a distinct roasted characteristic. I can say I wasn’t expecting any sort of malt aroma, which was nice, so I pressed on to give the Tennent’s a taste.

Taste

Even though I picked it up purely for nostalgia, this beer was not nearly as dreadful as I remembered it. Again, I am reviewing the Tennent’s Lager, and not the Tennent’s Super Strong Lager which I had before. I would attribute the change in taste almost certainly to the drastic reduction of alcoholic content. Despite being such a light and golden beer, the lager had a surprisingly medium to heavy mouthfeel, which came off as rather creamy. There was nearly no aftertaste, which is fine for what I consider to be a light lager. One last note, don’t let this beer get too warm.

Overall Evaluation

I’m going to give this beer a very positive score. Tennent’s is not your standard run-of-the-mill lager, in fact, I think it is superior to most if not all American offerings of the same style. I’ve stated many times on the show that I am not a large fan of lagers, but I’ll stick up for a beer that dares to be different. I can’t say that Tennent’s Lager is a radical, but it certainly brings character to a style of beer I find to be traditionally bland in flavor. Forgetting my nostalgic fondness for this import, I find Tennent’s to be a great, light, refreshing beer that has also been particularly difficult for me to find. A great lager, but still a lager, deserves a 4/5.

Located on Court Avenue in Des Moines is the aptly named Court Avenue Brewing Company. The restaurant is a neat place, comfortable atmosphere, and has a patio for dining on those warmer summer days. As is typical of a brewpub, Court Avenue makes a wide variety of beers to serve with their meals. I had been here once before for their stout, but this time we ordered a sampler rack. This turned out to be a great idea. At the time of this writing, Court Avenue had an offering of eight different beers. For $12.50, this sampler rack was the most economically efficient way to try every selection in its own 5 ounce glass. On the rack, Court Avenue served up its rendition of each of the following styles of beer: light American lager, Belgian white ale, hefeweizen, pale ale, India pale ale, brown ale, stout, and a porter. Just work your way down the line and make notes on each of the beer. I really liked the Belgian white ale (seems to be my latest trend); the porter was slightly bitter it seemed, and the India pale ale was mild in hoppiness – which is great for my development of hops tolerance. This is a great place to check out a wide variety of beers in what is probably one of the more “happening” neighborhoods of Des Moines.

The next night provided a defining beer moment. We found another restaurant rather haphazardly under a time crunch. The Hessen Haus of Des Moines touts itself as the only authentic German beer hall of central Iowa; they nailed it. We were not sure what to expect, but upon entering, you are greeted with a grand beer hall that has a tall ceiling and everything made of wood. The menu was filled with mostly traditional German meals and a beer list that ran longer than “Nader for President”. Lately I haven’t been adding too many German lagers to my list, and I think it’s about time I revisited that decision. I ordered a Kostritzer Schwarzbier. I honestly had no idea who the brewer was, or where they were from, but could only gather it was a German import and I had not tried it before. Further research indicates that it was a favorite of Goethe. Why will I be revisiting German lagers? My initial reaction to most of these imports is that they’re too watery; they lack a certain grandiose flavor. I decided that their lack of pizazz could be related to the German brewer’s adherence to reinheitsgebot. Reinheitsgebot is the old “German Beer Purity Law”, no longer in effect, that permitted brewers to only use water, barley, and hops in the production of beer. So in effect, you get a wider variety in the different uses of only three main ingredients. This Schwarzbier was not bad at all, but lacked pizazz, as I had said earlier. It was dark, black beer (aka schwarzbier), that was extremely clear if you got enough light behind it. Low in carbonation, and completely void of any cloudiness, the Schwarzbier lacked what I liked in dark beers. Granted, I am a fan of porters and stouts, which are on the dark end of ales. Dark lagers belong at the other end of the spectrum, but share the color due to the amount of roasting for the hops, I imagine. This is the point where the beer became very interesting for me. For the table, we ordered an appetizer of sauerkraut balls – sauerkraut in bread crumbs for the most part. I am by no means a fan of sauerkraut and I have no explanation for why these tasted so great. They were pretty mild, and maybe low on the vinegar. Regardless, I took a bit of the sauerkraut and a big gulp of beer. Surprise of all surprises, these two portions combined with each other created a marvelous pairing. I suddenly found every palate of my tongue being hit with flavor. The sauerkraut distinctly stood out from the Schwarzbier, yet they combined and didn’t overpower each other. This beer was meant to be enjoyed with food. This statement of pairing is in contrast with my thoughts on the rise of the American lager, but that has to wait for Part II.

I love browsing the beer sections of liquor stores. In smaller stores it seems as if you can never find exactly what you are looking for, but can always come away with something a little great. Today I ventured into the cooler of a local store and came across a curious 12-pack. A red box, a retro logo, and a half-fish, half-girl decorated a little treasure known only as Lakemaid Beer. The name pronunciation of “lake-made” had me almost moving to the next shelf, but the Schell’s logo had me hooked (See what I did there?). I had to take it home with me; I had to find out the story of this beer.

Lakemaid Beer is produced by August Schell Brewing Company of New Ulm, Minnesota. The beer is actually being co-advertised with Rapala, the fishing lure company, with a tag-line of “The Fisherman’s Lager”. This was a limited release beer for the opening of fishing season back in May, but I believe the brew was rereleased for Minnesota’s ice fishing season. I’m sad to say that I haven’t been fishing in a few years, but also glad to say that I’m not reviewing this beer from the middle of a floating slab of ice, looking into a small, dark hole , while huddling for warmth in -20 degree weather. 

The name of “Lakemaid Beer” comes from a legendary fishing myth about freshwater mermaids, known as lakemaids. The Lore of the Lakemaids from Schell’s packaging:

Wherever anglers gather, you’re bound to hear great stories. One of the better known and sworn-to-be-true is the story of the Lakemaids. Long ago, these freshwater mermaids found their way inland from the oceans, down the St. Lawrence Seaway and up the Mississippi, to summer in the cool, pure waters of the lakes of the North country. Each year, on the night of the summer solstice, they reward anglers who have kept their lakes pure, with ice cold Lakemaid beer, made fresh from the deepest, purest water they can find.

How can you say no to that? Exactly. I like trying out new beers from the home-state breweries, even if they are a little silly. When I opened the box, I discovered that each of the twelve beers features a different Lakemaid on the label. You’ll have to fight with your fishing buddies on who gets which lakemaid. 

Miss Northern Pike Miss Walleye Miss Smallmouth Bass Miss Largemouth Bass Miss Muskie Miss Sunfish Miss Sturgeon Miss Rainbow Trout Miss Catfish Miss Perch Miss Crappie Miss Salmon

When I popped the cap on the bottle, I noticed one last thing. If you look on the underside of the cap, you’ll see the weight of the fish you just “caught”. I have the bragging rights to a 12-pound Walleye. Feel free to use this weight as a jumping point to begin your own fishing story. Others might turn this into a game. 

Though I assume most will consume this one straight from the bottle, I poured the Lakemaid smoothly into a glass with about one centimeter of head on top. Golden, with a fair amount of carbonation. On the nose, it is about what you would expect of an American lager – a grainy smell, no hoppiness. I’m not typically a golden lager kind of guy, so here goes nothing. The taste is pretty good; nothing too special, but certainly better than average. In a world where you must choose between American lagers, this would probably be among my top selections. A solid, if not unexpected, refreshing beer from Schell’s (though I do like Grain Belt). Am I allowed to go halfsies? 3.5/5 from me.

Have any of you had a chance to try out this beer? Do you have a tale to share, from meeting a lakemaid during that week-long summer trip to Kabetogama? You can at least tell me your favorite lakemaid. Give us your thoughts in the comments section, cheers!