I received my samples of the Miller Lite Brewers Collection a few weeks ago, but I’d been waiting until I spent some time with my wife’s family before giving them a try. I wanted to be fair to these three new beers under the Miller Lite brand, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t go to find much I liked about them. It may seem prejudicial to not go into trying them with an open mind, but I would argue it’s because I have a problem with the low-calorie beer category itself. I’ve never liked them, not just their lack of flavor, but the very idea of them. I find them an abomination, an aberration, a triumph of marketing over good sense. Despite my strong feelings, I felt I could actually still be objective, but to be doubly sure I thought I’d enlist some family members to give me their opinions. Three out of four of my familial guinea pigs routinely drink mainstream brands of beer, and at least one does so almost exclusively. I felt they’ve be able to give me another perspective, one closer to the target demographic than me, at the very least.

So you probably already know Miller Brewing is test marketing—in Baltimore, Charlotte, Minneapolis and San Diego—three line extensions to their Lite beer. All three are aiming to be “craft-style,” whatever that means. There’s a Blonde Ale, Amber and Wheat, apparently redone as low-calorie concoctions. According to the press release, “Miller Lite’s Trio of Craft-Style Light Beers Provides the Best of Both Worlds.” They also introduced the tagline for the launch, “Craft Beer. Done Lite.” The press release goes on to claim the new beers “offer real craft beer taste and true light beer refreshment” and “it offers the best of both worlds for today’s beer drinkers who want a more complex and flavorful beer without sacrificing the refreshment and drinkability to which they’ve grown accustomed.”

According to the Miller-sponsored Brew Blog, the brewers collection will be targeted at lite beer drinkers.

Miller Lite Brewers Collection is aimed at mainstream light beer drinkers and capitalizes on three beer industry trends: the growth of light beer; the growing popularity of craft beer; and consumers’ growing willingness to pay more for products that deliver a unique or better experience. Miller selected the three styles because they are popular among mainstream beer drinkers looking to experiment with crafts.

The particulars included with the samples is also curious and illuminating. All three of the new Miller Lites are 4.2% abv, 110 calories and 6.2 carbohydrates per 12 oz., quite an engineering feat in itself. As competitors, they’ve chosen New Belgium Fat Tire for the amber, Coors’ Blue Moon for the wheat, and Bass Ale for the blonde ale. The calories for these three are, respectively, 159, 169 and 155 against 110 for the Miller Lites. That seems odd to me. Since they’re supposedly making low-calorie beers, why compare them to regular beers? I suppose the reason must be to highlight the difference in calories and carbs, but to me that only highlights the inanity of the low-calorie beer.

Even with the beer with the highest number of calories, Coors’ Blue Moon at 169, there is still only a difference of 59 calories. But let’s call it 60, just to talk about it. 60 calories is essentially one slice of bread, half a grapefruit or a medium-sized artichoke. Big freaking deal! And how much physical activity does it take to burn off those 60 extra calories? Ten minutes of playing tennis, half an hour of driving, or even just 36 minutes of standing still will all burn about 60 calories. But the real yet often unspoken reason people choose to drink light beers is because of the perception that they can drink more of them. So if people are drinking more beers per session, they’re really not actually saving any calories anyway, now are they? You may not find that reason championed in any low-calorie beer’s advertising, but all the companies that make these beers are well aware of this phenomenon in how people perceive them. Also, since they are the beer with the lightest flavor, and thus contain the fewest ingredients, they are also the most profitable in any company’s portfolio. So from a profit perspective—and let’s face it for any large corporation that is the only perspective that matters—these are the perfect product: lowest cost, perceived as healthy, consumed in higher quantities and sold for the same price as regular versions. Ka-ching!

Or as Don Russell (a.k.a. Joe Sixpack) put it in a recent column:

We all know, of course, it’s not really diet beer. Most of the guys you see guzzling light beer are about as fit as a bag of potato chips. People drink it not because they’re counting calories, but because its watered-down, ordinary flavor allows them to mindlessly pound one after the other without the inconvenience of actually tasting the stuff.

I presume that only the blonde is actually an ale, since otherwise they’d call the amber an amber ale, if it used top fermentation. So I assume the amber is an amber lager. The wheat is probably also a lager, though some wheat beers are actually hybrid styles. But I would guess Miller would choose the more simple path of making it in a lager style.

My motley menagerie of relatives. From left: my sister-in-law Margaret (drinks mostly craft but has the occasional mainstream beer), her husband Roddi (who drinks roughly half craft and half mainstream), my brother-in-law Tucker (who drinks mostly mainstream fare) and my wife Sarah (who drinks exclusively craft, of course). The five of us tried all three beers Easter afternoon, and here’s what we thought.

WHEAT

Miller describes the Wheat as offering “especially appealing flavor dimensions, with a subtle citrus character for a clean, refreshing beer.” They list its characteristics as follows:

1. APPEARANCE: Golden-yellow, Cloudy. Well-defined carbonation and foam.
2. AROMA: Invigorating and fresh aroma. Fruity with fresh citrus: - Orange, - Lemon.
3. FLAVOR: Sessionable wheat. Stimulating citrus and orange. Delicate bitterness and body.
4. FINISH: Crisp. Clean. Quenching bitterness.

Here’s what my relatives had to say. “Not a wheaty nose, unpleasant. This doesn’t taste a thing like wheat, it has no sweetness, just bitter. It’s not something I would finish. It doesn’t meet the chug test. It’s a sweet Miller Lite, but not as much as a wheat.” I had to agree with them. It seemed to straddle a middle ground where it was neither a wheat beer nor a light beer. It just seemed confused. I didn’t think it had any of the refreshing qualities that I look for in a wheat beer. It was just thin and watery, with hardly any flavorful character at all.

BLONDE ALE

Miller describes the Blonde Ale as offering “a crispness and slight maltiness that’s balanced by a recognizable hop aroma.” They list its characteristics as follows:

1. APPEARANCE: Amber-copper, Clear, Bright. Well-defined carbonation and foam.
2. AROMA: Noble aroma. Fruity and delightfully hoppy. Synergistic compliment of hop citrus and spice, and malt.
3. FLAVOR: Fruity, Hoppy, Citrus, Malty. Purposeful bitterness and refreshing body.
4. FINISH: Slight bite. Cordial bitterness.

Here’s what my relatives had to say. “It doesn’t look like a blonde. The color’s not quite right. I can barely taste the difference between this and the wheat. The nose reminds me of white wine, and it’s kinda’ sweet. I like it better than the first one.” Is this what Ballantine used to taste like? As the only ale, I think I was expecting more. But it was so similar in taste to the other three, that I was hard-pressed to find any differences. I didn’t get any of the fruity or hoppy character that was listed in the press release. I’ve judged light beers before at GABF and it is a difficult thing to discern between beers, because the flavors are so subtle. Unfortunately, you tend to focus on their flaws, because that’s what stands out.

AMBER

Miller describes the Amber as follows. “The color in the MLBC Amber comes from specially selected caramel and roasted malts; it offers a mild hop character for a bold yet refreshing flavor.” They list its characteristics as follows:

1. APPEARANCE: Amber-bronze, Clear, Bright. Well-defined carbonation and foam.
2. AROMA: Rich and distinctive, Fruity, Malty and caramel notes. Distinguished hop character. Suggestion of roasted malt.
3. FLAVOR: Slight hop character, Malty and caramel notes, Hint of roasted malt, Slightly sweet. Low to moderate bitterness and body.
4. FINISH: Crisp, Clean. Perceptible and pleasant beer character. Delicate and refreshing bitterness.

Here’s what my relatives had to say. “Some water, some drink. I like the blonde better. There’s not much there. I don’t get it. If I had to drink one I’d choose the amber.” I didn’t think the color was remotely what I’d call amber. The “I don’t get get it” comment got a lot of play, as my relatives all mused on what Miller had in mind for these beers and who might buy them. The consensus was that they knew craft beer drinkers wouldn’t buy them, but they also couldn’t fathom why mainstream drinkers would. And apart from my wife, the other three regularly drink light beers. They felt that if you wanted craft beer flavors, you’d just buy one of those if that’s what you were in the mood for. The Miller Lite Brewers Collection seemed to please no one. Unfortunately, I think that may be its fate.

Don Russell, again from the same column, where he says if craft beer is jazz, the new beers are Kenny G:

Essentially, Miller is attempting to sell a product that wants it both ways. It’s a product that purports to offer all the complexity, depth and quality of a small-batch brew along with the bland, inoffensive, one-dimensional flavor of a factory-made light beer.

Russell, who I suspect does not think these beers are terrific, is still far more kind to them than I feel I can be. He continues.

If you ask Miller how its beer can be both light and craft, the company deftly explains: “It’s important to note that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers.”

It continues: “Craft drinkers are happy with the choices they have, and they should be. But mainstream light-beer drinkers who want something with a different taste and drinkability are not happy with their options. Traditional craft beers don’t work for these consumers. Miller Lite Brewers Collection will.”

None of the beers are all-malt—each uses corn—according to Miller brewmaster Manny Manuele, in an interview by Stan Hieronymous on his Appellation Beer Blog.

One question about this all-malt issue stood out for me in Stan’s interview:

All-malt is at the core of how “craft” brewers define their products. Would you say you disagree?

First, it’s important to note that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers. Additionally, “all malt” is one, but not the only, criteria that defines craft beer. The Brewers Association describes craft as beers brewed with a traditional process using malted and specialty grains, hops, water and yeast to deliver the aroma, taste and appearance characteristics not typically found in mainstream beers. That’s what we’re delivering — a unique consumer taste experience not typically found in light beers and consistent with craft-style beer.

Hmm, maybe I’m mis-reading that but it sounds like Manuele is suggesting that a brewery could skirt one of the requirements for being considered a craft brewer and still be one. But my understanding of the three-prong definition of a craft brewer (see below) is that all three criteria must be met. Anything less, and you’re not a craft brewer (at least by the BA definition). He interprets the definition of what qualifies as a craft beer as something with flavors “not typically found in mainstream beers” and then suggests that the new craft-style light beers could qualify because they provide a “unique consumer taste experience not typically found in light beers and consistent with craft-style beer.” That’s a pretty tortured bit of logic, I must say. He’s defining by using the negative, saying that since it’s not this, it must be that. Not so fast. Just because something tastes different or isn’t as typical (assuming that point can even be conceded) doesn’t make it something else.

I could make an apple pie with no apples, substituting Ritz crackers, and it might taste something like an apple pie. But I don’t think anyone would let me get away with still calling it an authentic apple pie, because it’s missing a key element of apple pie, namely apples. Likewise, craft beer that isn’t all-malt really isn’t. The only exception to not using all-malt ingredients and having the brew still considered a craft beer is if they “use adjuncts to enhance rather than lighten flavor.” And while Manuele claims they used “wheat and corn for taste, lightness and refreshment” (perhaps trying to combine them), who doesn’t believe that while the wheat may impart taste and refreshment, the corn is only there for lightness.

Craft brewing industry definitions

An American craft brewer is small, independent, and traditional.

Small: Annual production of beer less than 2 million barrels. Beer production is attributed to a brewer according to the rules of alternating proprietorships. Flavored malt beverages are not considered beer for purposes of this definition.

Independent: Less than 25% of the craft brewery is owned or controlled (or equivalent economic interest) by an alcoholic beverage industry member who is not themselves a craft brewer.

Traditional: A brewer who has either an all malt flagship (the beer which represents the greatest volume among that brewers brands) or has at least 50% of it’s volume in either all malt beers or in beers which use adjuncts to enhance rather than lighten flavor.

But it in the end, the Miller propaganda machine keeps pointing out — whenever anybody asks them about what they are — “that these are not intended to be craft beers and are not targeted at craft drinkers. These are craft-style light beers.” That may be true, but is it a coincidence that this disclaimer does not appear in the press release I received? Is it mere happenstance that the word “craft” is used all over the place in marketing these brands? And that tagline. “Craft Beer. Done Lite.” Is that not meant to convey that they are craft beers? Clearly, Miller wants people not familiar with industry definitions to believe that they are craft beers, or at the very least craft beer-like. They’re counting on mainstream beer drinkers unfamiliar with what it means to be a craft beer to conclude that these are, capitalizing on a resurgence of both interest and sales of craft beer.

If the idea really is to target “mainstream light-beer drinkers who want something with a different taste and drinkability,” I can suggest many true craft beers that fit that bill far better. As for all those extra calories, how about just drink fewer beers of better quality with richer flavor? Let’s just stop pretending that low-calorie diet beers are not a sham.
 

UPDATE 4.1: The test is over. Miller’s Brew Blog announced today that based on very successful tests in all four markets, the three Miller Lite Brewers Collection beers will be rolled out nationally in September.

There was another terrific article by Eric Asimov in the New York Times yesterday about extreme beers called A Taste for Brews That Go to Extremes. Although admitting not everybody likes the new extremism, Asimov certainly does and the article also includes several Bay Area beers, including ones from Lagunitas, Mad River and Moylan’s breweries. And there’s a great quote from Brendan Moylan, owner of both Marin Brewing and Moylan’s.

“We’re the same country that put men on the moon, and we’re taking the same approach to beer,” said Brendan Moylan, the founder of Moylan Brewing Company in Novato, Calif. “We passed the rest of the world by ages ago, and they’re just waking up to it.”

The Times also did a tasting of several extreme beers, and happily included two well-known brewers in the process: Garrett Oliver, from Brooklyn Brewing, and Phil Markowski, from Southampton Publick House. Despite their initial derisiveness over the very pursuit of extremeness, even they found beers they enjoyed. 90-Minute IPA from Dogfish Head was the group’s favorite, followed by the Double Simcoe I.P.A. from Weyerbacher and Maximus from Lagunitas. There’s also a Beers of the Times feature where you can listen to the tasters talking about their favorite beers.

It’s time once again for our eleventh Session, and this time around we’re highlighting Doppelbocks courtesy of this month’s host, Wilson at Brewvana. I recently spent two weeks in the home of Doppelbocks — Germany — when many breweries I visited were just debuting their winter seasonal, which more often than not was a doppelbock.

Their history is, of course, reasonably well settled, with the Pauline Monks of Munich making the first example of the style around 1780. By the Napoleonic Era, the brewery had become secular and brewmaster Franz-Xaver Zacherl began selling his strongest beer around Easter-time each year, calling it “savior,” which in German is “Salvator.” Other breweries began adopting the name and it was in danger of becoming generic when, in 1894, trademark law made Paulaner the only brewer legally allowed use the name. As a result, countless other doppelbocks renamed their beers but continued using the suffix “-ator,” possibly to denote strength, but more likely to continue associating themselves with Salvator. The traditional reason for brewing this beer at this time of the year was for the forty days — not counting Sundays — of fasting just prior to Easter, known as Lent. The monks wanted something heartier to drink while they weren’t able to eat. This period also became known as “strong beer season.” This year, strong beer season will begin February 6.

As fate would have it, last night was the bimonthly blind panel tasting at the Celebrator Beer News and one of the two styles we tasted was doppelbocks. Of the seven we sampled, I decided to write about three common German examples, the original Paulaner Salvator, Spaten’s Optimator and Aying’s Celebrator.

So let’s drink some doppelbock, shall we?
 

Paulaner’s Salvator bright amber in color with a tan head. It has sweet, toffee aromas with alcohol quite evident in the nose. The alcohol — at 7.9% abv — carries over into the taste profile and bites tartly against the malt backbone, which has a hint of candied sweetness. The finish lingers and continues to bite back long after it’s left.

Ayinger’s Celebrator Doppelbock was a very dark brown, almost black, with a rich tan head. The nose was predominantly sweet malt with touches of earthy, herbal aromas. Creamy and chewy, with a gritty effervescence that dances on the tongue, the flavor is a big wallop of malt with a restrained smokiness hiding underneath. The finish is clean with a touch of tartness.

Spaten’s Optimator was dark brown with a thick ivory head. The nose was dry with aromas of lightly sweet malt with just a touch of smoke or roasted toffee. The flavors were likewise sweetly malty. At only 7.2% abv, the alcohol was somewhat less evident in the taste and there was a little astringency, possibly from the hops. Overall it was full-bodied and rich and the finish clean.

This month’s Session, sponsored by Barley Vine, is Let It Snow: Winter Beers. Of all the seasonal beers, the ones released during winter are my favorites; the ones I look most forward to sampling each and every year. The category of winter beers lacks the tradition of, say for example, oktoberfest beers or springfest beers, both of which owe their existence to the seasons, a lack of technology and brewers having to adapt themselves to the weather. And, of course, even calling them winter beers is a modern conceit to be politically correct and, perhaps more importantly, to try to insure they will continue to sell beyond December 25. Because for the most part, whether we say so or not, most of the “winter beers” are really Christmas beers. And they are, like Christmas itself, largely a modern invention.

For centuries, the most important Christian holiday was Easter, because — as I remember it being explained — the redemption and resurrection it represented was the miracle that made Christianity different from other religions and so it was the centerpiece of an ecumenical year filled with celebrations Sunday after Sunday. Our present calendar system, the Gregorian calendar (named for Pope Gregory) was created precisely to more accurately predict the date when each year’s Easter would be because under the prior system, the Julian calendar (which is still used today by some Christian denominations) had allowed the year to drift by several days because it did not accurately reflect the true length of a year. (For a riveting account of the history of our calendar, read David Ewing Duncan’s Calendar: Humanity’s Struggle to Determine a True and Accurate Year.) The calendar geek in me could go on and on about this but the point is simply that for the majority of Christian history, Easter was the big day. Beginning in the 1840s, things gradually shifted toward Christmas so that now most people would say Christmas is the number one holiday.

The first Christmas beers were most likely brewed in medieval times by monks making a special beer — and stronger — at Christmastime to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. But it would take far longer for commercial breweries to begin making and bottling seasonal beer. And while there were breweries in decades past that made a holiday beer (I have, for example a full bottle of Ballantine Christmas Ale that was brewed in 1946 but not bottled until 1957), it was not the big business it is today. In my experience, here in the U.S. Christmas beers were more the exception than the rule until somewhat recently.

Germany has a rich tradition of Weihnachtsbier, as do several other Scandinavian countries. So does Great Britain with winter warmers and Belgium with beers like Delirium Noel and many others. My friend and colleague Don Russell (a.k.a. Joe Sixpack) is currently working on a book about Christmas beer which will be published next year. I can’t wait for it to come out, it should be a very interesting read. For a time, there were only a few holiday beers, and most of them were quite obviously Christmas beers. Sierra Nevada’s Celebration, Samuel Adams’ Winter Lager and even Noche Buena (from Mexico’s Grupo Model) were all early favorites. Little by little, more breweries began making a holiday beer and by around 1996 practically every brewery made one and a large number bottled it, too. And they all sold pretty well. But oddly enough, the day after Christmas sales would abruptly stop. With the exception of the most popular two or three brands, you could barely give away a Christmas beer once the holiday was over. This made it tricky for retailers trying to balance not running out before Christmas but not wanting any inventory immediately thereafter. When I was a beer buyer, I can’t tell you how many offers at rock bottom bargain prices I would get in the weeks after Christmas by breweries trying to unload their remaining Christmas beer. So what most breweries did was secularize the beers, calling them names like winter ale or holiday beer. Whatever the name, it de-emphasized Christmas in the hope that the fickle consumer would continue to buy them after December 25. And for the most part the strategy worked and eventually led to many breweries having a seasonal beer year-round, whether four different ones quarterly or more often. The reason for this is more business-related than you might assume at first blush. Most grocery stores have very specific beer sets (which is a schematic layout of what beers they carry and where they will be put on the shelves).

Breweries work very hard to get a slot on a grocery store’s beer set. No one wants to put in the effort to get their Christmas beer in the beer set over the holidays only to lose it as soon December ends. So what many did was get a seasonal sku authorized in the set that would be filled with whatever the seasonal beer happened to be. In other words, the same hole would be filled in summer with a summer seasonal beer, etc. throughout the year. One seasonal release would follow the last so that all year long there would be a rotating beer in that same slot on the store shelf. In that way the brewery would not lose it’s spot on the shelf and as a result, today we all have much more diversity on the shelf, a boon for consumers and breweries alike. Nielsen and IRI data confirms that the category “seasonal beer” is one of the fastest growing and best-selling categories of craft beer today. And this all grew out of Christmas beers and trying to figure out how best to sell them.

In modern times, one of the first and to my mind still one of the best is Anchor’s Christmas Beer. Technically, the name of this beer is not Christmas Ale as it is usually called but it’s more proper name is actually Our Special Ale. The first one was brewed in 1975. While there are certainly many other truly great holiday beers, this is always the one I look most forward to each year. It used to be released the Monday before Thanksgiving each year, making it one of the last Christmas beers to come out. A few years ago they bowed to market pressure and it’s now available in early November, usually the first week. I can’t say I don’t like getting it earlier now, but there was something grand about having to wait for it that built up your anticipation and made it somehow more special.

To me, there are two (or three) other factors to this beer that make it so great. First, they change the recipe each year. So not only is there anticipation about its release generally, but also about what it will taste like this year. How much time have I spent sitting around with friends trying to figure out just what spices are in each year’s version? I know there a lot of people, including many beer enthusiasts and the entire nation of Germany, who don’t like spice in their beer. I am not one of those people. I love spicy beers. Not every day, of course, but the more different types of beer loose in the world, the better off we are. The more choices, the better we can experiment and decide what works best when and with what. And there are times when spices in beer work perfectly. I usually pair my Thanksgiving meal with Anchor Christmas, for example, because the spices work so well with turkey’s modest flavors, making both taste better. In addition, the mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and stuffing all benefit from being lubricated with a spicy beer.

Second, they change the label each year. Each year it’s a new mini-work of art featuring a different tree (which I confess I’ve always had a thing for: trees, that is). They’re beautiful labels and each year they create a new poster featuring all of the labels from 1975 up to the current year. I have one from a couple of years ago framed and hanging in my kitchen. You can see this year’s poster at Anchor’s website and you can even buy one in their gift shop. That also adds to the anticipation, finding out what tree will be featured on each year’s incarnation. They also do a kick-ass neon sign. But there’s one more thing about this beer that I love. It can be aged.

Despite it’s modest strength and most likely due to the spicing, Anchor’s Christmas Ale can be laid down, usually for almost ten years and still be drinkable. For a time during the late 1990s, when the beer was more heavily spiced, it actually seemed to taste better after being aged for at least a year and I would lay down quite a bit of it to take advantage of that phenomenon. I still have several Magnums from year’s past in one of my beer refrigerators, as well as at least a case of 12-ounce bottles from various years stretching back to the early 1990s. There’s nothing more enjoyable than doing a vertical tasting of Anchor Christmas beers. I’ve done a few myself, at least one at the Celebrator and twice at Anchor Brewing with older beers from their private cellar. It’s great fun to compare both the different year’s recipes and also what the aging process has done to the beer.

Last night was Anchor’s annual Christmas party and it was my first chance to have this year’s Christmas Ale on draft, though I’d had bottles several times. To my mind, this year’s tastes quite similar to last year but I haven’t yet had a chance to do a side-by-side comparison. The spicing is mild, as has been typical in recent years. As a result, it has a wider appeal — though for myself I miss the heavily spiced days — and is still a wonderful beer. I won’t even try to speculate on what spices are there, that’s a better thing to do with friends over a shared pint or bottle.

One last thing about winter ales that is somewhat different from most traditional seasonal beers. Unlike springbocks or marzens, which are distinct styles, holiday beers can be any style that the brewer chooses. This has led to much more diversity in Christmas beers than in any other kind of seasonal. Even summer ales, which have no style attached to them, still tend to be lighter so they’re more appropriate during that season’s warmer weather. This makes tasting all of the holiday beers the most enjoyable one each year, because you never know what you’re going to get. It’s fun seeing what a brewery decided to brew when left to do whatever they fancied. Since brewers under such circumstances tend to make what they like, you can learn different brewers’ personal tastes, which can be useful in evaluating their other efforts. Plus, it’s just plain fun, the best time of the year to try different beers is without question the winter when strong, full-flavored beers of striking diversity are king. It’s the most wonderful season of all.

Holding a cup of Christmas Ale by the Anchor “tree” at their annual Christmas party last night.