As the weather turns warmer nothing quenches my thirst like a PBR, Pabst Blue Ribbon for the layman. I’ll confess in the winter I like beers darker than a crawlspace during an eclipse, but PBR dominates my fridge arsenal when the mercury rises.
Aside from tasting like liquid nirvana when it hits your lips on a hot day, there are more appealing qualities of PBR. It proudly flaunts its vintage greatness. As you’ll notice on the can, it was established in Milwaukee in 1844. Also on the can it states that PBR was selected as Americas Best in 1893. You have to respect something that takes 49 years to climb to the top. Safe to say that, PBR isn’t the Hannah Montana of beers. You also have to respect a company that boasts of their last claim to fame being 116 years ago. One might suspect that they’ve never since reached the top escheleon of American beers. I beg to differ though. I translate this as saying that since 1893 they’ve been on the top podium looking down at all the gaper brews.
PBR, unlike a 45 year old Coug at a bar smoking Virginia Slims, thanks for knowing your place in the world and staying true to your 1844 roots.
