Miller Swill

I'm not a beer guy. Beer, as we all know, is urine thickened with sweat. Or at least, that's how a lot of it tastes. Give me a cocktail any day, especially with vodka or tequila, and I'm a happy, happy man. But for some reason as soon as I heard about Miller Chill, a beer flavored with lime and salt based on the Mexican chelada, I had to try it. As a margarita fan, I love me some lime and salt with my alcamahol. I've never had a chelada, but I was intrigued to try it as soon as I joined some friends at a bar.

Color me disappointed. The website says "Chelada Style Light Lager with a Hint of Lime and Salt." Hint? That's being generous. What would be more appropriate? How about "rumor?" "Rumored to be flavored with lime and salt." Their website has more Latin flavor than this bland beer. Luckily, I at least like the flavor of regular MGD, as that's basically what I was drinking. The drink seems to be getting mixed reviews elsewhere, as well.

Actually, it made me even more determined to try an actual chelada to see why a company would go to all the effort of (badly) replicating its flavor. So the following night on my way to a dinner party, I picked up some Corona and limes...and margarita salt. Here's what you do: salt the rim of a highball or beer stein, squeeze in the juice from half a lime, add ice and pour in the beer. It will fizz up at first, and then you have a light summer drink perfect for hot days and balmy nights. The ice and citrus cut the beer so it's not as heavy as usual and the salt...well, salt is just good. I'd salt the rim of my coffee mug if I had enough time in the morning.

Variations differ regionally in Mexico. There's also a michelada which adds hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce, plus, depending where you are, Clamato or some other tomato-based drink mix. (I skipped those versions because I refuse to try anything named "Clamato.")

So two good things came out of this. Not only did I learn about a new drink that's easy to make and so good on humid summer evenings, the trip to the grocery store for the ingredients forced me to enter the beer aisle. After I passed up the towering stack of Miller Chill in the corner, there was a whole wall of interesting choices before me - lagers in lemon-flavored and "summer wheat" varieties, hard iced teas and numerous pale ales that would be perfect for the patio. I'm sure some of them suck, but it's almost like a challenge, finding the one that forces me to skip the vodka tonics and grab the bottle opener.

Ironically, it wasn't until a corporation heavily advertised their sub-par product that I had even heard about this traditional Mexican drink. You could argue that Miller is badly exploiting a cultural tradition for profit (I'm not sure I'd agree, since our grocery shelves are stocked with all kinds of ethnic ingredients that you would not find there even twenty years ago, but you could argue it) but really, Miller did me two favors with their lame imitation. It exposed me to a popular drink from another culture and, more importantly, if I had liked their bottled version, I might not have bothered making myself the real thing.

Also check out: Pringles and Pimpfants.
And: Eat My Cookies.