I’ve mentioned before that beer bloggers such as myself tend toward the fringe. Having been through all the tried & true styles, after hundreds of pints of readily available session beers, Boston Lagers, Anchor Steams and their ilk, it’s easy to grow weary of even good beers that aren’t uncommon or extreme. Especially when writing, it’s simply more interesting to review unique brews, emerging styles, or super-expensive small batch rarities. Every now and then, though, I like to break that mold by writing about something ubiquitous, simple, sessionable, or in this case, downright unpleasant.

The History / The Style

The history of Anheuser-Busch has been documented enough, so I’ll spare you. ‘Chelada’ is AB’s macro take on the Michelada or Cerveza preparada, a beer-based mixed drink that originated in Mexico in the 1940’s. The name is either a portmanteau of ‘mix’ and ‘chela’ (chela, meaning ‘chill’ is a Mexican slang for cold beer) or a contraction of “Mi Chela Helada”, meaning “My cold beer.” Whatever the back story, the meaning is basically the same.

The definition of a Michelada is fairly loose, and there is no one correct version. The standard base recipe calls for beer mixed with tomato juice and lime in a salt-rimmed glass. Clamato, or a house made mix of tomato and clam / oyster broth can also be used, and adding spices such as Worcestershire, Tobasco, or chili powder isn’t uncommon.

In mexico, Micheladas are considered a good hangover remedy. Sort of a beer-based bloody mary for the working-class brunch crowd.

Anheuser Busch, always on top of their marketing, has apparently realized both the popularity of Michelada in the Latino community and the growing Latino community in the US, and saw no other option but to jump on the trend. Their version is a 4.2% ABV mix of Bud Light and Clamato (the proprietary version), with salt and lime (likely artificial) added. Seeing as a 24oz. can will set you back a measly $1.50, they’re not exactly marketing to the connoisseur crowd here.

The Tasting

Pours translucent and fizzy… looks more like grapefruit soda than beer. Head is pillowy and white, but quickly deflates, leaving zero lacing and very little nucleation.

Smells like a bloody mary. Peppery tomato, a hint of celery even.

Immediate taste is salt water… lots of salt water. Diluted tomato soup and a brief peppery tinge push through the brine, followed by a barely detectable glimmer of that familiar spoiled bread Bud Light taste, a half-second reassurance that yes, there is beer in this. The somehow welcome adjunct-laden beer taste quickly gives way to an overly salty tomato juice finish. Aftertaste is long and acidic, inducing both a twisted facial expression and a bit of heartburn.

Mouthfeel… well I’m hesitant to hold this beer in my mouth long enough to properly gauge its feel. It’s thin, but the flavor is powerfully overwhelming. Somehow creamy and watery at the same time. My first thought upon taking a sip is how quickly I can swallow it just to get the taste out of my mouth.

I honestly don’t understand how anyone can drink this.

The Verdict

I’ve had plenty of beers that I don’t like, and a few I consider downright awful. In every one, though, I was able to see at least what the brewer was thinking, and grasp that there is indeed a market for that type of beer. With this, though, I just can’t imagine it being enjoyable. To anyone.

I’ll even go as far as to accept that there is a group who honestly enjoys a good Michelada after a rough Saturday night. I see enough weekend-afternoon Bloody Mary swillers to grasp the appeal of a good hangover cure (even though I personally don’t enjoy them). However, I can only see this mass-produced, low-cost, dare-I-say ‘corporate’ take on the style as the absolute bottom of the Michelada barrel.

Sorry if my words are a bit harsh, but I still have the taste of Cape Cod Bay at low-tide kicking around the back of my throat.

On the bright side, I no longer have to think when I’m asked “What’s the worst beer you’ve ever had?”

0/10