All the surveys that proclaim the Twin Cities the greatest place to live on Earth usually mention our "craft beer scene." Once it was a "burgeoning" craft beer scene, but now it's sufficiently burgeoned. They keep inventing ways to jolt the jaded palate and reassure the craft-beer fan that this glass of acorn-flavored motor oil is more challenging than a Grain Belt, and thus more sophisticated.
You wouldn't be surprised to hear them announce LUTEFISK IPA, or "Incredibly Putrid Ale." Top notes of lye, disgust; slimy aftertaste. Best paired with: a nearby pail, just in case you feel like, you know, burgeoning.
Some people would still try it, because undrinkable beer is part of the charm of the craft beer movement. It's part of the marketing. If this beer was any more bitter, it would be going back to court to deny joint custody! and that sort of thing.
But now there's a beer that seems uniquely Minnesotan: Wheaties Beer, brought to you by General Mills and Fulton Beers. Will it have a picture of an athlete on the label? No. Athletes are role models who do not drink beer. Can I pour it over cereal? You can, if you've felt the thing missing from a bowl of cereal is a nice foamy head. Will the columnist take the obvious route and propose other cereal-based beers? He will.
Captain Crunch Beer. Smooth, sweet, with sweet notes of sweetness; contains small jagged pieces of ceramic to shred the roof of your mouth like the original used to do.
Lucky Charms Irish Stout. Every can contains at least 50 dissolved sucrose-infused Styrofoam nodules that were once stars, moons, rainbows, etc. On St. Patrick's Day it will be green, and so will you.
Fiber One Lager. It's not your favorite beer, just your regular one.
Discontinued Children's Movie Tie-In Cereal Pale Ale. Pretty much Hamm's, to be honest,
LIFE beer. And the beer fans cry out: You mean it's NOT THAT ALREADY?
jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858
