A few key mix-ins and tweaks can catapult your Lime-A-Rita-derived bliss (and buzz) to new heights.
'budweiser' on Serious Eats
Calling Budweiser the "King of Beers" is a good way to get beer geeks to roll their eyes. A lot of beer connoisseurs mainly think of Budweiser as a thin-tasting symbol of corporate hegemony—it's the beer version of a Big Mac. But regardless, Budweiser's success has always been a story of savvy marketing; less known is that it's also a story of ingenuity and invention.
This weekend my wife and I spent an inordinate amount of time discussing denial. It's a tricky business, because admitting to denial tends to undercut the operation, and what a very important operation it can be. For instance, we live in Boston, where the temperature's been 100 degrees below zero every second for the past two months.
Despite the gains made by craft beer, American brewing is still overwhelmingly a Big Yellow racket, with Anheuser-Busch controlling just under 50 percent of the domestic beer market; Bud Light is America's favorite beer by a double-wide margin, and regular Bud is in second place. But the biggest boys are well aware that the growth is coming from the top of the quality ladder, which is why A-B has just introduced a new line called Budweiser Project 12, which aims to replicate honest-to-goodness craft-quality beer.
On Sunday afternoon as we were walking through the sun on our way to the day's third brunch, Bottom Shelf research director Emily wrecked everything by asking a short series of horrible questions.
Tomorrow I'm meeting an old friend for lunch and I couldn't be more excited or less excited. I am exactly the right amount of excited: very extremely to be seeing one of my favorite people for the first time in at least five and perhaps as many as 100 years; and not-at-all-god-please-why to be going to Border Café in Harvard Square.
I'll drink light beer when it's handed to me, but otherwise I base my beer choices on several different criteria, none of which involve calories. I'll get the cheap one or the good one or the high ABV one or the weird one, but I'll never get the one that wants a pat on the head for sparing me half an apple's worth of calories.
Last Thursday I turned Meredith the pizza lady's birthday into an excuse to drink too much in the afternoon, because I'm the sort of thoughtful and generous friend who will buy you a belated birthday lunch anyplace your heart desires as long as your heart desires pizza and beer at an old-man bar. Meredith doesn't drink much beer and she eats pizza for a living, but she's sweet as a peach and pretended to be excited to have her afternoon highjacked in pursuit of my vices.