I’m back from a brief hiatus. Life has been hard the last few weeks. Only the strong survive. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” Thus spaketh Nietzsche before he went nuts. Those German philosophers…so insufferable, so ponderous. Well, so German. But at least they make good beer.
One problem about becoming a beer connoisseur (have to distrust that word because it is French) is cost. The high suds mark in the glass gets harder and harder to beat without shelling out more Benjamins. Thus, every so often, I go lowbrow to reset the taste pallet. It is hard medicine but necessary. Thus, let me introduce the Lord of Lowbrow Lord Chesterfield:
Now, I don’t know what fiefdom Lord Chesterfield ruled over. I suppose I could Google his name and find out. This much is certain: Lord Chesterfield used to be the worst beer in America before Yuengling decided to make its beer drinkable to anyone outside of Pottsville’s city limits. I think it was 5 dollars a case and then money back with returnables. How bad? It could have killed roaches that survived a nuclear winter. So, when one is Lord of the Sewer, a climb up the ladder to daylight is massively noticeable.
A few years ago at the local distributor, Yuengling had a stand set up with samples of their brews. Fighting the past, I decided to take a chance on the Dark Lord and take a sip or two. It had a good result…I did not gag and convulse into drive heaves. The downside of the upside is now the cases of Yuengling run around 20 to 23 dollars or so. Plus, you have to find something else to kill the radioactive roaches it it ever comes to that.
So, I bought a case of the Lord Chesterfield the other day. Definitely hoppier than the Yuengling Lager. Not bad, not great. Drinkable. I think Beer Advocate gives it a “D.” At least there is a grade that can be assigned. Before, an “F’ would have been a gift and stood for “Foul” “Fiendish” or just plain old “Filthy.” Now it is just Feudal, worthy of the teeming masses. Far from being aristocratic, Lord Chesterfield has joined the League of Nations of acceptable beers that sticks it to the the Big Wigs. For that alone, it is worth drinking.