Coming from the Pacific Northwest, where everyone knows someone who brews frothy suds in the garage (such as my incredibly talented brother-in-law, Steve), you might imagine my disappointment upon arriving to a country where one can count the beer drinking options on two hands. Sadly, unlike in Burien, there is no shuffleboard and organic beer three blocks from home. Instead, go to a restaurant here, order a beer and the server might very well ask, “azul o verde?” (do you want blue or green?). I didn’t quite understand the first time that happened. You’re kidding me right? There are two beer options and I have to choose them by color? Understandably, then, many expats and Venezuelans alike (really, anyone who knows better) will turn to rum for consolation, since the good stuff is relatively cheap and there is a wide variety. I will most likely learn to appreciate the rum, and post about it later, but you can bet the summertime brew festivals in Seattle will be an annual pilgrimage.
After this blue/green incident happened again, I wanted to know what I was up against, so I went out the other day and bought one of every type of beer I could find — a task that was way too easy. I then proceeded to foul my taste buds in the company of my friends Adam, Nadjib and Ben. Let me tell you, this is no taster special at Elliot Bay Brewery, folks.
Let me introduce you to the not-so-vast beer selection:
And our tasting started with the Regional variety:
Later we came to Polar, which is easily the best selling beer label in Venezuela. Yet, the Polar Light is basically frothy Caracas tap water, as you will see:
And the last to be captured on video is from Colonial Tovar, the Leavenworth of Caracas:
“What about the others?” you ask. Truthfully, we were so disappointed throughout the event that I just kept the camera off. There were several half empty cans and bottles that ended up down the drain. Nonetheless, here’s my overall ranking of this family of truly rank beer (click the link to open a bar graph):
I’ll finish this post with the non-alcoholic option: Maltin or Malta. If you’ve ever sipped the wart during the brew process, well, then you know what this stuff smells like. Taste, however, is a different matter. Try to imagine a “luke-warm Guiness travelling through sweaty socks into a bottle of coke. ” A lot of people here love the stuff. Go figure.