Cheap Beer No. 3: Mountain Creek Classic Lager

“Craft Brewed In Small Batches.” At least that’s what it says on the can. If that ain’t sucker bait I don’t know what is. Only the most dangerously naive would buy a case of lager for $9.49 under the assumption that they’ll soon be soaking up a premium beer. No, if you put your money down for this you know just what you’re going to get: Flat-out macro swill. It’s light and grainy, with a hint of malt and a whisper of hops and nothing so troublesome as too much flavor to get in your way. And that’s what puts Mountain Creek a cut above its cheap-beer cohorts. Flavor-wise, there’s nothing singularly offensive about it. You can actually drink this one without cringing. You’re not going to love this beer (unless you’re a die-hard miser), but you’re not going to reflexively scowl as you pour it into your face, either. It’s a camping beer. The sort of brew you guzzle while staring vacantly at a campfire, occupying your mind with anything other than what’s draining into your mouth.

Knowing the backstory of this beer isn’t going to make you like it any better, but here goes anyway. The beer originated in 2003 in Canada as Mountain Crest (it’s now sold as Minhas Creek in Canada). The brother and sister team of Ravinder and Manjit Minhas set out to make an ultra-cheap brew for sale to Canucks tired of being gouged by the Canadian beer duopoly of Labatt and Molson. They contract brewed their beer at the Huber Brewery in Monroe and the City Brewery in Lacrosse then trucked the suds back to Canada in cans draped with maple leafs to obscure the fact that what they were selling was actually an American-made brew. That raised a small shit-storm up North. The resultant media flap brought them to the attention of Canadian lagerites concerned more about prices than patriotism and soon the Minhas family was selling a lot of beer. In 2006 they bought Huber Brewing, changed the name to the Minhas Craft Brewery and began selling this stuff in the States. It’s been pouring into Oshkosh ever since. The story has an oily feel about it and the “Craft Brewed In Small Batches” note that they stamp on their cans only helps to reinforce the vague duplicity that seems to be the company’s earmark. They’re no worse than Budweiser, of course, and at about half the price I know which beer I’d buy, but there’s no getting around the fact that this beer is all about money. Hey, nobody said you have to feel good about buying this crap. Like many things related to industrial beer, it helps if you don’t think about it too much. Pair this with a summer day and an empty head and you’ll be on your way to a cheap, good time. Though you might not respect yourself in the morning.

Final verdict: Would I buy this again? Probably not. I’m tired of handing cash over to people who operate this way.

Archie Says No!