Beer Review: St. Ides, patron saint of shockingly bad flavor

St. Ides, patron saint of shockingly bad flavor

Whoops!  I’m a little late with my posts — didn’t realize how long it had been since my last Malt Liquor update (must be down to just a handful of brain cells left).  I’ve also exhausted all the Malt Liquors at my local brew pit, so I’ve had a harder time getting new dreck to review.  But I did get ahold of some St. Ides, from the 7-11 during a trip with the kids to buy a slurpee.  (And boy was that awkward, putting both of those on the counter…)

After taste-testing six malt liquors in the past year, I thought I was able to handle the typical malt liquor.  St. Ides didn’t at first appear to be anything special.  But this is a malt brew full of surprises.  And, needless to say, surprise is NOT what you want when it comes to beer this bad.  At every turn, in all respects, I shamefully underestimated this dreck, and it made me pay for my miscalculation.  Here’s the rundown:

*** Characteristic:   Flavor

My expectation:    “Probably terrible, but I’ve done terrible before… bring it on!”

Reality:    “Oh my dear lord!  We’ve hit an iceberg!   We’re going down!  Oh, the humanity!”

***  Characteristic:   Intoxification-ness

My expectation:    “I might be giggling a bit too much by the end, but I’ll be back to normal by bedtime”

Reality:   “Ehhhh?  … I’m only down about halfway, and I can’t see straight…  my toes are numb…  I can see through metal, I swear…”

*** Characteristic:    Hangover

My expectation:    “Eh, a little water before bed, and I’m fine.”

Reality:    “Could someone turn down the throbbing in my arteries?  I think I can hear my eyeballs moving in their sockets…”

Maybe for some reason I was caught off guard (did I give blood earlier?  do I have a tapeworm?), but this 40 knocked me on my behind.  It was just like high school all over again.  Late that night I happened to catch a few minutes of the kid’s show “Oobi”, where all the characters consist of human hands with googly-eyes glued to the knuckles.  That show is surreal sober, so you can imagine my discombobulation.  So while I don’t have much remembrance of the flavor, quality, or other characteristics I usually use to judge the beer, I will give this one a rating of 2 beers as a reward for reminding me not to be complacent.  I gotta start training better…  where was that Rocky 8-track tape?

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