Brewery: Pabst Brewing Company/G. Heileman Brewing Company, Texas, USA

Brewery Description: “This classic premium lager brew is crafted with a healthy infusion of 6-row barley, plus a unique combination of Pacific domestic and Yugoslavian hops.  Aged at high gravity, PBR is then cellared and then finished to the smooth, robust likeness of a fine Pilsner.  There’s no finer way to drink.”

Brew Style: American Lager/Macrobrew, 4.74% ABV

Recommended Glassware: Pint, Pilsner, or Brown paper bag wrapped around the can to hide your freakin’ shame you poor bastid.

The Ugly Truth: You know, I think its poetic that I chose PBR as the first beer I’ve reviewed in a little over 4 months.  Its considered a classic by some, loved and revered by the Hipster crowd and generally considered to be one of the giants of the cheap beer kingdom.

I now find myself here, typing at my computer in the late hours of the evening to bring you the truth, the Law even.  Laws and Truths more profound than those delivered by Moses as he descended Mount Sinai to confront the worshipers of false idols.  I am here to reveal what that brewery description seeks to obscure, to burn away the fog created by pop culture and advertising men.  My people, read that description.  Read it close and then bend your ears and hearken to the words that now flow from my tongue like luxurious streams of Guinness:

THEY ARE F*CKING LYING TO YOU!

Whoever wrote that description is in league with the Devil.  That has got to be one of the most inaccurate, misleading and blatantly false brewery descriptions ever posted here.  If PBR actually tasted like that, there would be a plethora of virgins singing its praises and bringing its healing powers to the unwashed, thirsty masses.  As it stands in its stark reality, drinking PBR is akin to having someone pour some corn syrup cut with water and a shot of alcohol into your mouth and telling you should be glad, THANKFUL even, that you are lucky to have that.

The appearance is the only thing its got going, since it accurately reflects that of the American Lager.  A pale yellow straw color, that if it went any lighter would be indistinguishable from the color of Larry Bird’s skin.  A frothy white head that disappeared faster than a Ho-ho at a Overeater’s Anonymous meeting, and light carbonation rising to the top.  The aroma was that of an Indiana cornfield in late fall, not something that should be present in a beer.  No where, and I mean no where my friends, was there a hint of Pacific domestic and Yugoslavian hops.

The taste…I wanted to scrape my tongue afterward.  I might as well have been drinking water for all the flavor that was there.  Just nothing appealing to it.  I know what some are thinking: “But…but that’s the American Lager style.”.  Well, my response to that is this:  there is a reason why PBR and the like are heavily marketed to college kids and the bar crowd, because those are the people who care the least about flavor.  There is a bit of dryness, not much, and the flavor is dominated my malt and a corn sweetness to it.  No aftertaste to speak of, just a lingering feeling of despair and disappointment with the experience that will cling to you more than the stink of the bar you were drinking in.

So I beg you my people, turn a deaf ear to the Hipsters and ad executives who wish to lead you down the false path.  Have faith and be strong.  Order something else, something with flavor, and say to the PBR: “I know you for what you are, and I cast you out demon-swill!”.

Verdict: 2 out of 10 bottlecaps, to represent the twin horns of Deciet and Malice that PBR wears.