First, the Not So Awesome Brew…
Every month, a Not So Awesome Brew is featured as a baseline. After all, what is an Awesome Brew? Awesome compared to what? Compared to something like this:


Every month, a Not So Awesome Brew is featured as a baseline. After all, what is an Awesome Brew? Awesome compared to what? Compared to something like this:

Well, the newsletter took a month off, and it was needed. Real life collided with things and we all started getting some burn-out. Granted, while I did drink plenty of awesome brews during the time off, I took it as an opportunity to tackle a not-so-awesome brew that has been on my hit-list for a very long time. The reason for this, is because I was not looking forward to it at all, and that’s Natural Lite, the absolute worst ranked beer on Beer Advocate (Edit: It has since been dethroned to the #2 spot, more on that later. It was #1 a year ago when I was planning the review of it, and I thought I had double checked at the time I wrote this, but apparently not). When I first started featuring the not-so-awesome brew, I had Natural Lite on my list. I figured I’d save it for some special occasion. It certainly wasn’t hard to get as they seem to only sell it in 24-pack cases. But thankfully, following the march of other crappy brews, they came out with a large can.
The 25oz can it came in, like with most of these crappy brews, was intimidating, but I always figure it’s better than having another 276oz sitting in my refrigerator afterwards in 23 cans that I couldn’t pawn off to even my most hillbilly of friends. My wife who took the shot didn’t want her photographer’s cut, so when she handed me the mug, I was truly scared and with a cringe, I gave it a sip. Honestly, I was surprised! It wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought! I assumed I was going to be rating a beer, but this was entirely different! In fact, I realized I’ve inadvertently been drinking Natural Lite my whole life! They give it to you when you’re seated at restaurants after all and I’ve had it in plastic bottles with labels like Dasani, and Evian, and Fiji. Unlike those, Natural Light tastes like someone spilled their cheap American beer into the monstrous 1000 gallon tank at the canning factory. It’s got the palest of yellow to it, probably from the contamination and the slightest bit of carbonation, but I won’t hold that against it too much. The slight cheap beer flavor doesn’t win it any points and I began to wonder if I got a bad batch, but considering I lived in Flint Michigan for eight years of my life, I can honestly say I’ve had worse.
Coming in cans is a bit of a novelty considering other similar brews come in clear plastic bottles with fancy ribbing so you can keep a solid grip on it as you’re jogging. Natural Light is not bad after all, but I know why it got such low scores on Beer Advocate. Beer Advocate rates beers. They don’t rate bottled water. I’m sure Flint Michigan’s tap water would rank pretty low on that site as well. In conclusion, if you’re not as finicky about quality control as Dasani or Fiji and just want something to hydrate you and cool you down in the summer, it’s hard not to recommend Natural Light. Serve with ice after doing heavy yard work on a hot summer day. Some people add lemons and sugar to it.

My job, when I’m not reviewing beers or defending the galaxy in one of the video games Oddysee engages in, is an IT administrator. Every good corporate IT admin has at their disposal, a damned good IT supply house and sales rep to cover any hardware or licensing needs that might arise. From day-to-day purchases like replacement printers, hard drives and cables, or large-scale projects like a new datacenter or outfitting a new production line, the best supply houses have your rear covered at all times. My IT supply house of choice is Connection, formerly PC Connection… just now a bit harder to Google. My rep, an awesome guy named Gary, traveled one weekend to Foam Brewers in Burlington Vermont, and I must have made an impression with him, because he sent me this marvelous brew.
Tranquil Pils is exactly like it’s namesake, tranquil. It’s a a light-bodied pilsner, and perhaps one of the smoothest and most flavorful I’ve ever had. It’s hoppy, without being overpowering, wheaty without tasting like a liquefied baguette, it is the epitome of good brewcrafting, which is a lesson in balance. Tranquil proves that is indeed possible to create a flavorful pale beer. It poured a light gold from the impressive growler it arrived in, with a head that was neither too fizzy nor creamy. The taste is all beer with no fruity or other overtones which leads me to believe the crafting of Tranquil Pils adheres to the Reinheitsgebot. The biggest disappointment with this awesome brew, is that it’s a brewhouse beer, and if I wanted to enjoy it again, I’ll have to take a trip to Vermont… or convince my boss we need a new datacenter and give Gary a call with a five-figure parts order. I’m sure he’ll make another trip for me then. Until then, you probably won’t be serving this beer, it’ll be served for you, and accompany it with a wonderful vacation in New England; a region of our country that has become a powerhouse of craft brewing in recent years.

I can’t seem to get through a month without doing a review of a Belgian ale. I admit, I have a weakness for them, especially the ones brewed with cherries known as Krieks. They come in a wide variety from tart to sweet. When you know how to read the labels, it’s pretty easy to figure out what the one you’re holding in your hand is going to be. Anything with “Olde” in the name is made in the old-fashioned way, with some wild fermentation happening in the process which makes the ale somewhat sour. St. Louis Premium Kriek falls on the other side of that spectrum though. There’s no wild, unpurified yeast used in the making of this stuff, just pure, modern brewer’s yeast. It’s sweet, but not in a wine-cooler, soda-pop or Kool-Aid kind of way. For modern, sweet lambics, my signpost for comparison is typically the Lindemans offerings which I’ve reviewed before on Awesome Brews and are all quite excellent.
St Louis Premium is not like Lindemans exactly. Lindemans is very fruity, and between the fruit taste and the barley/beer taste, like a good slot-machine, the fruit is clearly the winner. St Louis Premium is more balanced between the two, and I like that. There’s no question that the cherry tasting thing your pouring down your gullet is a beer. It pours a reddish color in your glass, which is more akin to an Irish red, rather than the aforementioned soda pop, or Kool-Aid. The head is very fizzy which dissipated rapidly leaving its distinct cherry aroma in the room. Just like Lindemans, St Louis Premium is a very fast drinker, and at 3.2 ABV, you can afford to have a couple without feeling it. I guzzled mine in only a few minutes, and was honestly worried I didn’t spend enough time savoring it and analyzing it to be able to write this review. I looked at my glass and seriously wondered “where did it all go? Did my wife take an extra cut of this one for her photography work?” When I was about to confront her with this question because she admitted to me earlier she liked this brew very much, she pointed out I still had a swallow left in the bottle which gave me what I needed; a sample of this beer drunk while pondering its qualities, rather than guzzling it thoughtlessly like it was Natural Light straight from the garden hose. Next time, I’ll have to see if they carry this awesome brew in gallon jugs. Serve chilled with good cheese like Kerrygold Dubliner or Cotswold Double Gloucester and a movie like The Italian Job (preferably the 1969 version).
Some of the pictures taken for Awesome Brews were done by Diane Schuler of Schuler Photography