Budweiser Black Crown is the newest entry into the family of beers produced by Anheuser-Busch, and it is by far their worst beer for a few reasons.
At first glance, the beer seems to be appealing. It has a rich amber color reminiscent of a craft German brew. However, that is where the similarities end.
The initial pour yielded a nice bouquet that was sweet and corny and almost grassy with a small amount of foam (that dissipated quickly leaving none and hardly any lacing), but the first sip told me this was an American beer.
Either from the bottle or a pilsner glass, Black Crown has a muddled, watered-down hoppy flair that barely breaks the barrier of what an amber lager should be. The sweet malty flavor almost overpowered the slight hop flavor, resulting in a one-sided mixture.
It also left a noticeable metallic aftertaste, which I was not a fan of. After the third beer, they were starting to get better, but I could never get over the initial taste.
It reminded me of mixing a regular Budweiser with something like pale ale to achieve a strange concoction that is the essence of neither one.
Although it has a much more rich flavor profile than regular Budweiser or Bud Light Platinum, it doesn’t burst from the bottle by any means.
The concept and vision behind Black Crown is a valiant effort to get Americans to drink a more robust beer with a better flavor profile. Black Crown ultimately falls short because Americans like their beer the way it is, watery and easy to drink. It seems more a slap in the face of discerning beer drinkers than an effort to please them. As if Anheuser-Busch was saying, “We know what you drink, and we know what is good beer. Here is our best effort to make good beer less complicated so you will swill it down.” Something only InBev seems to be able to do.
Beck’s Brewery
Beck’s Brewery, maker of the world’s best selling German beer, also has a new beer to compliment their already large line of brews. Beck’s Sapphire is an effort to capture the twenty-something nightlife demographic.
This beer may bear the Beck’s name, but, rest assured, it is brewed in St. Louis.
Initially, it pours with that golden straw color many are familiar with, yet just a shade darker than regular Bud.
The ever-critical foam gave a one -finger width and lasted throughout with good lacing on the glass, better than the Black Crown.
The aroma was hard to detect, and it took three big whiffs to get a sweet, grassy smell that I was expecting. That sweetness persisted in the flavor and ended with a nice malty flavor, although both were subtle.
The result was nice and clean with a bit of bitterness, yet the taste never left me wowed.
It ultimately felt bland after a few sips when the carbonation faded. I was left thinking, “How long ago did I pour this beer?”
The feel of the beer evoked much of the taste, clean with a medium carbonation. However, it was only a marginal compliment to the overall character of the beer.
Though it had its shortcomings, Beck’s Sapphire was passable, although uninspired, and the clean flavor would compliment a warm summer afternoon.