United Nations of Beer

Tremblay lager

by Ashley Cotter-Cairns
(UNOB HQ)

Tremblay lager

Familiarity can certainly breed contempt. I'd seen this beer on many supermarket shelves in the past couple of months and never thought about picking some up to taste.

Then, after our Quebec Beer Tasting Night ended with the testers rendered incapable after my home-made Shepherd's Pie, I found myself with a huge, chunky and ready-chilled 660ml bottle of Tremblay Lager in the fridge and no good reason not to pop the top.

Yes, it's fizzy. Yes, it's blonde (kind of honey blonde though). Yes, you'll have tried and liked many, many beers just like Tremblay Lager and yes, it might just walk down the beach of your beer experience landscape without leaving any permanent footprints in the sand behind it.

It's gassy, for sure; surprisingly so, after what's initially quite a mild fizziness on the tongue. You'll be tasting lunch for the rest of the evening, but only the females around you will care one way or the other.

Take the deepest of sniffs from the top and you'll be left wondering where the taste is going to come from. Mild doesn't begin to describe the aroma. (Some might call it subtle. So is mental illness, in its early stages.)

A bitter bite is followed by a soft serenade as you swallow. I wouldn't call it super-sweet, but there's a definite apricot nature to the aftertaste. Certainly none of the horrid metal twanginess of big-name lagers. The aftertaste lingers, but for once with a lager you won't much care, because there's nothing bad in the finish.

Do yourself a favour. Next time you're hot and tired after a long day, try a Tremblay Lager. It will cleave your dry mouth like a frozen axe and leave you smiling and belching in its wake.