Miller High Life (yes, really)
Posted on August 26th, 2009
One thing I’ve noticed about beer writers - myself included - is that we tend towards the fringe. At a certain point, you’ve drank enough and learned enough about beer that it’s hard to keep one’s self interested in the middle-of-the-road, macro-brewed, easily-purchased-at-your-local-Applebee’s kind of beer. This article is a challenge to breaking that mold. And what better way to do it than with a big ole 40oz. bottle of “Champagne”.
The History
Miller has a moderately interesting and - by virtue of being such a large company - fairly well-documented history. Miller Brewing Co. was founded in 1855 in Wisconsin by German immigrant Frederick Miller, and High Life was born in 1903 (making it the oldest still-available Miller product). The brewery made it through The Dark Ages and Macro-ization began in 1966 when the company was bought by W.R. Grace & Co. (yes, that W.R. Grace) and 3 years later bought again by Phillip Morris…
Yes, that Phillip Morris
…and so on. Currently, Miller is owned by SABMiller, the second-largest brewer in the world (behind InBev). Oh, and SABMiller has a partnership with the Molson Coors Brewing Co. called MillerCoors. Take that, plus Anheuser-Busch (technically InBev) and you have almost every beer in the US under the umbrella of two companies.
But I digress.
They also have one of my favorite ad campaigns in recent history. Doesn’t hurt.
The Style
High Life is an American-style Pale Lager, which is basically a lighter, less-flavorful take on a traditional Czech Pilsner. Characteristics include a straw-yellow coloring and a crisp malty flavor with little or no hops. Most macrobrews include adjuncts such as rice or corn to clarify, lighten, and increase alcohol content without significantly altering the flavor. High Life is no exception to this rule. At 4.7% ABV, High Life is right down the middle of the road for American macros.
Finally, a quick bit of trivia: “The Champagne of Beers” slogan originates from the fact that the beer was 1) highly carbonated and 2) sold in clear glass bottles. Nothing at all to do with the supposed quality of the beer. You can all stop making ironic comments now.
The Tasting
Served in-bottle, the way God intended, so there isn’t much to comment on the pour or the head. The bottle does make a satisfying hiss as I twist off the screw-top cap, though. Through the clear bottle, the beer is hay-colored and fizzy as tonic water.
Not much smell through the tiny bottle top. What I am able to sense is a mixture of bread and funk. More nostalgia than identifiable odor…all I can think of is the floor of a frat house basement.
The taste is grainy and bready, with a huge adjunct presence. It’s less ricey than Bud Light and it’s brethren, but there’s a definite corn flavor that only gets worse as the beer warms up. Sweet malts, spoiled apple and grass. There’s the tiniest bit of hops at the very back - barely noticeable until after the beer’s been swallowed - which lingers on the tongue for just a second. Aftertaste is nonexistant.
Mouthfeel is light, cold & bubbly. Incredibly drinkable. One could easily demolish a six-pack without even noticing.
…at first. If this was a 12oz. bottle, things would be bright and cheery. But, being a 40ouncer, the beer is warm and the carbonation is completely gone by the time I hit the last 8 ounces. The character of the brew completely changes without the shield of temperature and bubbles. It tastes like apple juice, with a slice of bread, all stuck in a blender and left to sit on the counter for a week. I’m not sure how, but I managed to choke down the last few sips and put this one to bed.
The Verdict
Full disclosure - High Life is my ‘binge’ beer of choice. Throughout college, and in the rare post-college drinking game, whenever I had to consume mass quantities without losing my cool, High Life was my trusty sidekick. That said, it’s a decent American Macro Lager. Nothing worth writing home about (save for this article), but an enjoyable experience nontheless. Just make sure it’s served fresh, bubbly, and ice-cold, preferably in a can.
Ounces 1-32: 6/10
Ounces 33-40: 1/10