It’s Memorial Day, so today I’m going to put on my red white & blue and talk about an old-school, patriotic, no frills beer: The American-style Lager. But instead of furthering the ubiquity of Bud, Miller, Coors, and their various versions & spin-offs, I’d like to take this space to highlight an authentic, small-batch, local beer that dates back to the pre-prohibition golden age of American beer… and is making a small but marked comeback.

Hi Neighbor!

The History
Narragansett Lager began in 1890, when six business partners took a fortune made in fake-butter, built a brewery in Cranston, RI and began churning out their pale American lager. By 1914, ‘Gansett was the largest brewery in New England. Their initial success was cut short - as was the case with so many turn-of-the-century US brewers - by Prohibition throughout the 1920’s. After the 21st Amendment was passed, Narragansett was in rough financial shape, but were bailed-out by New England industrialist and awesome name-holder Rudolf Haffenreffer. Some capital, a brewery modernization, and a native-american mascot designed by a young Dr. Seuss helped save Narragansett from the fate seen by most of the rest of the beer industry post-prohibition. Growth throughout the post-war 40’s and 50’s would find Narragansett back on top of the New England beer scene, pushing past 1 million barrels a year by 1959. The next part I’m going to take verbatim from Narragansett’s ‘obviously-written-by-savvy-marketing-types’ website history, because… well, it’s awesome:
“By the mid sixties, the Narragansett Brewing Company was providing steady pay, good benefits and free beer to some 850 workers. The company culture not only spawned lifelong friendships and good times, but also encouraged beer drinking during the workday.”

Just like the BMC empire came into its current state by gobbling up smaller regional breweries during the mid-20th century, Narragansett was purchased by the rapidly expanding Falstaff Brewing Company in 1965. Ironically, Falstaff’s purchase of Narragansett spawned an anti-trust lawsuit that lasted into the mid-70’s and basically led to the company’s downfall.
Falstaff went corporate in 1975 when it was acquired by beer magnate Paul Kalmanovitz. As part of his major reorganization / consolidation of the company, production of Narragansett was moved to Fort Wayne, Indiana and the Rhode Island brewery was shuttered in 1981. A decline in quality - possibly caused by a change in the water source, but possibly by a lack of brand pride and quality control - caused sales to drop off dramatically through the 80’s, to the point where Narragansett as a brand was virtually non-existent.
Things sat dormant until 2005 when the rights to Narragansett were bought from Falstaff by former juice-guy Mark Hellendrung. Hellendrung (which is almost as fun to say as Haffenreffer, but not quite) brought back former Narragansett brewer Bill Anderson to recreate the original lager. Currently, Narragansett Lager (along with a light style, bock and porter) is contract brewed by the Genesee Brewing Company and (unfortunately only) available in New England.

So there you have it, the rise and fall and rise and fall and hopeful rise of the Narragansett Brewing Company. A bit long-winded, but I think the journey of this particular brewery is quite reflective of the state of the American beer industry throughout the 20th century. From an initial boom to the one-two punch of Prohibition and the Great Depression, through a post-war resurgence and into the corporate consolidation (and homogenization) culture of the 1970’s and 80’s, and finally into the craft renaissance we are currently enjoying. Perhaps it’s a bit romantic, but I’d call that the Great American Novel of beer.

The Style
Beer Advocate describes American lager as a “light bodied, pale, fizzy lagers made popular by the large macro-breweries of America after prohibition. Low bitterness, thin malts, and moderate alcohol. Focus is less on flavor and more on mass-production and consumption, cutting flavor and sometimes costs with adjunct cereal grains, like rice and corn.” Wikipedia is a bit more forgiving, attributing the origins of the style to the Czech Pilsner, but with a lighter color and body, and of course the use of adjuncts. Narragansett claims to use corn, which unlike rice can impart a slight flavor to the beer. This lager is 5.0% ABV, right down the middle for the style - which generally ranges from 4%-6%.

Not Oberon, just a logo glass.
Much respect to Bell’s, though.

The Tasting
Pours a clear straw color with a big fluffy inch or more of bleach white head. This is definitely a beer for a clear glass. Why let a red solo cup rob you of that beautiful clarity?
The beer smells of sweet malts and adjunct corn, not particularly strong… or appetizing
Flavor is much more enticing. Sweet malt, grains, and just a little apple. Cereal crispness. Not much for hops, but a slight spice manages to balance out the sugar.
Bubbly and light on the mouth, with a seriously clean, crisp finish. Fantastic carbonation that really holds throughout the beer.

The Verdict
This is really the only American adjunct beer that I would choose to drink. Sure, I’ll settle for a High Life at a friend’s party, or choke down a few Bud Lights after a kickball game, but if I’m going to spend money on an American Lager and afford it valuable space in my oh-too-tiny beer fridge, it’s going to be Narragansett. First of all, it’s got flavor …a characteristic missing from pretty much every other beer in the style. Yet it’s still light and crisp enough to be refreshing on a hot day or at a baseball stadium.
Small enough to technically be a craft-beer, shying away from the ubiquitous advertisements and sports-sponsorships of their BMC brethren, and devoid of the ironic hipster stigma that’s rendered Pabst Blue Ribbon a punchline, Narragansett has a welcome authenticity as a brand. And the beer ain’t half bad neither.

7/10