Friday Froth: Mexican Lager, Made In Connecticut

Despite expert credibility having recently taken several cannonballs below the waterline, and 60-degree sweater weather remaining in abundance, summer - they tell us - has officially arrived. The days are near their longest, and the months start with “J”, so we must grudgingly accede they have a point. This time each year, in a migration as timeless and majestic as the great herds of the Serengeti - Nutmeggers can be seen dragging our coolers to beaches and backyards. What are we drinking? Hard seltzer! NO! I mean, yes, but also: shut up. 

We are drinking:

1. Very cold.

2. Easy drinking.

3. Usually Mexican lager. Corona, Pacifico, Modelo, ET C.

Why do we drink these? Because 1&2, but also... it’s what we’ve always done. Why are you thinking about this?

BECAUSE I’ve been noticing Connecticut brewers have been trying out the style in increasing numbers, they are delicious, and more people should know, which has always been the entire point of this column.

What is a Mexican lager?

Beyond “a Corona,” I mean. Wellllll, around the mid-1800s an indigenous man named Benito Juarez who had risen all the way to the Supreme Court and Presidency of Mexico decided the hacienda plantation system and the Catholic church owning most of the good land in the country wasn’t happening anymore so he basically nixed both. There was much rejoicing, but not amongst the church and other giant landowners. Napoleon III of France – currently trying to restore parts of his more famous uncle’s empire – got stiffed on a bunch of debts in the process, so he told his cousin, Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph, then Habsburg governor of greater Venice: 

“Hey man, the Mexican people love you and just made you their new President.” 

Max, for some reason, having never campaigned in or visited Mexico, was like yes, that totally makes sense, and went, along with a large chunk of the French army I guess he thought were wedding guests. 

ANYWAY

Max was Austrian, Viennese. He and his court were used to drinking tasty Vienna lager, and quickly found Mexico, in 1864, did not have refrigeration, and was crap as a location to make cold-lagered beer. But his brewers were skilled, and they tried, just as he read what Benito Juarez had done, declared himself friend to the Mexican peasant, and kept almost every last reform. Napoleon, rich dons, and the Pope were not amused. Then the American Civil War ended, giving President Andrew Johnson time to notice the French Army on the border of Texas for some reason, gave them the boot, and Juarez had Maximilian executed.

ANYWAY (x2), Austrian/Mexican beer culture stayed, with the lovely combo of Vienna malt and Mexican maize, and here we are. Beers like Negra Modelo and XX Amber are more on the Vienna side, with Corona being more like a Czech-pilsner. 

The beers, finally!

Dockside El Capitan is probably the closest to a Corona long neck, and easily my liver leader amongst the beers in the review by volume consumed. It is perfectly clear and straw yellow, a very thin head, and if you get in on draft at the Milford restaurant/brewery’s patio, they’ll toss a lime wedge in there for you. I can attest it has the best reaction to fruit in this comparison. 

Straight from the tap or can, with no lime, El Cap (as I call it) is nearly odorless, but immediately comes to life at first sip. The bready Vienna malts are there, but subdued, and more balanced by the corn adjunct. This is a CRISP beer, with the focus being on its - and I loathe this word – drinkability in hot weather, as can be found in direct sunlight on Dockside’s gigantic outdoor patios on the Housatonic River. El Cap even has a good little bit of detectable bitterness, easily sweetened up by the aforementioned citrus, if so desired. I’ve had more of these than most of your children have willingly eaten hot meals. Try some. Plus, the salty captain on the label art is growing tentacles, so that’s always good times.

Where do you want to go next, Bridgeport? Let’s go to Bridgeport.

Amigo Mexican Lager is made by Aspetuck Brew Lab, in Black Rock. This tiny nano-brewery across from the Blind Rhino (They’ll walk take-out orders to your bar stool here. Very convenient.) has been punching above its weight for a while. My favorite beer here, Grey Matter grisette, won a bronze medal in the 2019 Great American Beer fest, because who makes a grisette anymore, and it’s fantastic. 

Amigo pours a very slightly hazy straw color, like squinting through the air on a humid, sunny day, crowned by a thin head that lasts. An aroma of light, pale Vienna malt with twinge of corn sweetness wafts up toward you. This take on our southern neighbor’s finest is ultra, super smooth and round in both mouthfeel and flavor, with moderate aftertaste of pure, bready malt, with no adjunct flavor whatever. This is a highly refined, dialed-in, consummate easy drinker. The brightly checkered label art on the cans is in keeping with the Brew Lab’s Periodic Table theme, and available during summer hours, Wednesday happy hour through Sunday.

Two New Haven breweries are next, starting with East Rock Roca Veza. I told you about this outstanding, all-lager brewery when it opened in 2019, and they’re still going strong.

True Jurassic-sap amber with a thin head that burns off under a sharply tailored aroma with the essence of fresh white breadcrust. That aroma becomes a flavor that stays, lending Roca Veza a richness and inherent feel of quality common to other East Rock beers. That taste stays a little longer than crispier varietals like their pilsner. Those round, slightly roasty malts make me feel like this may be a result of decoction (a process of repeatedly boiling small portions of the overall batch, giving them the Maillard reaction of caramelization), or maybe just the malt bill paired with the sweeter flaked corn. At any rate it’s tremendous, and undoubtedly available in short supply. 

A trip to the brewery always pairs nicely with a visit to the next-door food hall.  

Over in New Haven’s Fair Haven section, Armada Brewery is Raining Tacos. As in, that’s the name of their Mexican-style lager and, hands-down, my favorite label art of the bunch. “Tacos” is clear, pale straw, like El Cap, but gives off a sweeter aroma over a thin head of initially raucous carbonation. Like El Cap, it gives the appearance of an ‘80s-style fire-and-forget spring break mind waster, but – as in every beer reviewed above – it's got real genius.

Like a cruise across the Great Barrier Reef, the key here is depth. Brewer John Kraszewski achieves this through his ratio of Vienna and Munich malts in addition to the flaked corn. The varying levels of roast to the grain leave a multihued flavor with a distinct, European richness to the profile. You can definitely pick up on some of the corn sweetness, and that’s by design, but that bready, crusty Maillard caramelization is the main wave on the brain. Having this beer at the Memorial Day beer fest at Lime Rock Park was the actual inspiration for me to get of my bony ass and write this column in tribute to our state contribution to the style. 

Plus, Armada’s reinvention of the old Bigelow Boiler building on the Quinnipiac River must be seen. Get some sucker a responsible and sainted designated driver to chauffeur your crew like the non-Habsburg royalty you are, and a northbound trip: Black Rock to Milford to New Haven, makes it possible to hit every locale in this post. After all, the days are long.

See you out there. 

https://www.docksidebrewery.com/

https://aspetuckbrewlab.com

https://eastrockbeer.com/

https://www.armadabeer.com/