Portland is full of eccentrically stylish, moderately anorexic hipsters. They are all quite trendy in that “I’m not trendy, I’m anti-trendy!” kind of way. They all carry messenger bags and wear unusual hats. But that is not the real problem. The real problem is what they drink. This is Portland. Delicious beer is everywhere. Countless craft breweries are creating a broader selection of brews here than anywhere else in the world. In their anti-trendy trendiness, these hipsters are attempting that which should only be discussed in cities like Milwaukee and St. Louis. The well-oiled machine that is the Portland Hipster Movement is working diligently to return the classic American pint can to its rightful place on the podium of cool. Well, ‘return’ might not be best choice of words. I’m not sure that the pint can has ever been cool. But, history be damned, these hipsters are working nightly in their tight pants and large sunglasses to establish the pint can as the drink of choice.
In an attempt to understand these miscreants, I have conducted a blind taste test. Four of Portland’s most popular pint can offerings were laid out before me, marked only by the numbers one through four. They were, in order of original brewery establishment date: Pabst Blue Ribbon (1844), Miller High Life (1855), Hamm’s (1865) and Olympia (1896). All are now produced by Miller Brewing Company in Milwaukee, though originally Olympia was brewed in eastern Washington and Hamm’s near St. Paul, Minnesota. But enough with the genealogy. On to the beer.
Note: I attempted to purchase one pint can of each of these lagers at my local convenience store. The Vietnamese woman who owns the place insisted that I purchase the 24 ounce versions rather than the pint cans. I explained to her that I was conducting a complicated scientific experiment and that I must maintain the strictest control over the variables. I think she replied with something about the 24 ounce cans being cheaper than the pint cans. Obviously the hipsters had already gotten to her. In the interest of international diplomacy, I agreed to go with the 24 ounce cans rather than my planned pints.
Here are my original, unedited tasting notes.
One: Bland. But exceptionally so. Tastes kinda like beer, but not so much. This taste test is going to suck.
Two: More bland than One. Not so exceptional. A little watery. Possibly a good choice if you are looking to rehydrate between real beers. Most pungent of the four choices. Maybe the glass was dirty? Definitely my least favorite. I think you could put this beer through your Britta filter and it would taste almost the same.
Three: Tastes like Two, but with a touch of One in the finish. Head dissipated more quickly than the others. Maybe a good choice when being jostled about, perhaps while sleeping in an empty freight car on a cross country train trip with your hobo friend Delicious Pete. Corn? Do I taste corn? That can’t be good.
Four: A bit more flavor than the others. Automatically jumps to the head of the pack. Smells a bit like air. Perhaps it is completely sterile and inert? Might be good to pour over an open wound if you run out of Neosporin. Has a smoother, more natural flavor than the others. Better than Three, but less of that straight from Nebraska corn taste.
Post taste test identifications, observations and results.
One: Miller High Life – Damn. I was really pulling for the champagne of beers to make a good run at the title today. The High Life is one of my old standbys. I find the tall, clear, shoulderless bottles quite elegant in a retired high school golf coach kind of way. I’m not really sure what that means. Final result: Third Place
Two: Olympia – Wow. This swill could battle Coors Light and Keystone for the “Wateriest Beer in the World” award. Considering I prefer the hoppiest, maltiest, strongest beers available, you can guess where this one ranks. The Olympia can boasts the slogan “It’s the Water”. The can speaks the truth. Final result: Fourth Place
Three: Pabst Blue Ribbon – A solid showing for the oldest beer of the bunch. PBR displays a decent balance between cheap beer taste and perceived (likely incorrectly) rehydrating capability. From kayaking to lawn darts, PBR is the Gatorade of drunken recreating. I shall now bestow upon this classic American beer its highest honor since it won ‘America’s Best Beer of 1893’. Final result: Second Place
Note: I spilled the remainder of the PBR after refilling my glass for the second time. My wife blamed it on intoxication, but I stand by my claim that the ungainly, oversize can is the real culprit.
Four: Hamm’s – This was a bit of a surprise. My only real experience with Hamm’s involves two dollar pint cans at the Laurelthirst pub. Usually after three or four pints of oatmeal stout have sucked everything but the lint from the pockets of my favorite beer drinking pants. Let me say Hamm’s is one of the few beers that I remember from my childhood. Not because I knocked back sixers of these babies with my pre-teen friends while watching Lee Majors destroy cars and get girls as ‘The Fall Guy’. Nope. This humble beer taster’s mother would have none of that. I remember this beer because of the angelic jingle that accompanied Hamm’s TV spots. “Hamm’s the beer refreshing. Hamm’s the beer refreshing. Haaaammmmmm’s.” Good stuff. Final result: First Place
So there you have it. Hamm’s is the finest cheap beer in my refrigerator. But that does not mean that others can’t challenge the current king of the pint cans. I plan on picking up a pint can of Ranier in the next few days. And if you or your loved ones have a pint can favorite that you would like me to test, please send them my way. If you don’t know my address, ask the person sitting next to you. I am especially interested in how those grand Midwestern brews like Schiltz and Stroh’s would stand up to Hamm’s. So next time you find yourself at the Seven-Eleven buying beef jerky at two in the morning, think of me and pick up a cheap pint can. Make sure you get the brown paper sleeve that most discerning convenience store operators offer. I think you can just slip the beer inside, fold down the top, slap on a few stamps and the magical USPS will take care of the rest.
Initial music pairing – Peter Bjorn and John – Writer’s BlockI started my taste test with this album because it was upbeat and, damn it, I was excited. You may have heard the third track – Young Folks – but this album is full of other great, poppy songs. Sadly, this taste test was not full of great anything.
Revised music pairing – The Handsome Family – Last Days of WonderWhen things go bad, you need a soundtrack that can keep up with your despair. This album is perfectly slow, dark and depressing. “When automatic sinks in airports no longer see your hands”. Wow. That is one sad lyrical image. Listen to track four – After We Shot the Grizzly -before you begin your own taste test. Even a crappy beer taste test will seem like a vacation after that song.
