5 Desert Island Beers

The “desert island scenario” suggests that you’d only have a limited selection of something with which to live out the rest of your (tanned, wave-cooled, coconut-scented) life. Obviously, on a real desert island, you’d have keen survival issues (isn’t rum a diuretic?) and complicated logistical problems (how am I going to power this DVD player?) to keep you from enjoying that Criterion Collection copy of Seven Samurai in perpetuity. But realism aside, it seems like everybody’s got their desert island movies, albums, and even foods, but how many people have their desert island beers?

The thing is, if you’re going to be limited to only one type of something, it’s probably going to have to be average. I don’t mean average in quality, I mean average in terms of covering all the bases. Sure, you may enjoy the combat scenes in Commando today, but what about years down the road, when you’re craving a little romance, or…actually, that’s a bad example. Commando is pretty much the pinnacle of Western film, and I’ll throw a pole through your chain-mailed torso if you disagree.

To get off the film thing and firmly back into the realm of hops and barley, you’re probably going to want a beer that is well-rounded. Something bitter and hoppy might be enjoyable now and again, but as your sole source of booze, you might want a mellower brew. Same thing with anything too dark, too light, too bland, too strong (whisky-aged beer is nice, but not every day), or too extreme (the “ham on rye” beer I had some years ago was surprisingly delicious, but, again, Ham On Rye is a “Sometimes” Beer).

While I love me some suds, I’m not nearly the beer aficionado my brother, Matt, is–I’ve never traveled to Belgium specifically to track down the elusive Westleveren, often regarded as the best beer in the world. And although I’ve tried plenty of unusual and limited-availability beers, most of the beers on my list are going to be pretty mainstream, because, again, this is beer for every day for the rest of your life. It’s like beer marriage. I love Troeg’s Nugget Nectar, but I’m not sure it enjoys CSI as much as I do. Or Rogue’s Smoke Ale: an unusual, exotic flavor, but sooner or later, I want it to think about its career and start contributing to the mortgage.

I should also note that I pictured myself on an actual tropical desert island drinking these. If the desert island in question were, say, off Antarctica (the world’s largest desert; don’t forget that “desert” is defined by rainfall and not ratio of sand to camels), this wouldn’t be a beer list at all. It would be “5 Frozen Island Single Malt Whiskys”.

So, I thought about the many hundreds of beers I’ve sampled over the years, and narrowed them down to five that I could see myself never, ever, going without:

5. Coors Light:

I’m drinking an ice-cold Silver Bullet as I write this, and I expect to draw lots of flack from beer lovers on this choice. I mean, when your ads emphasize how cold your product is (it’s the Freezy Freakies of beer cans!) instead of, you know, how it tastes, maybe that’s a warning signal.

But there’s something to be said for a beer that goes down cold, clean and easy, smooth as water and with only slighly more alcohol. The whole sandy desert island scenario plays a role; this is one of my favorite drinks for hot summer days. And you can pretty much down an 18-rack of cans and still make it to work on time the next day, only a little worse for wear. Just try doing that with Guinness. Speaking of which…

4. Guinness:

Now you’re wondering if I’m just screwing with you. How could you imagine drinking nothing but thick black stout, especially ankle-deep in palm fronds under a heavy sun? Well, I’ll qualify this by saying that I’d have to have Guinness that was off tap, not bottled, and of the same quality as you can get in Dublin…the stuff they serve on the tour of St. James’s Gate is sublime.

I actually find Guinness to be quite refreshing, with a taste that has chocolate and coffee notes tempered with a smooth finish and very little bitterness. Rather than comparing it to a milkshake in July, I’d say it’s like a Diet Coke on the beach. But, you have to be careful with this one…my personal record is 8 in an night at Flanagan’s in Bethesda, and I don’t believe I made it into the office the next day.

3. Molson Canadian:

Another big-brand beer, and, like Coors Light, not earth-shatteringly outstanding. My preference for this one hearkens to my days at Syracuse, when a case of bottles would run us a whopping $14 plus modest tax. You’d think that I’d prefer the beer that our cat, Labatt, is named after, but that cost $15 a case. We had to save money somewhere.

But, this beer is a solid contender. Nothing crazy about the taste, just a mellow flavor without anything unpleasant or challenging to your palate, but still classy and down-to-earth. The Frank Sinatra of beers: who doesn’t love The Chairman of the Board? Molson Canadian could be the Chairman of the Beers.

2. Carib:

Nothing like an actual island beer to round out the list. The wife and I drank quite a bit of Carib on our honeymoon in Anguilla; while Cerveceria Modelo’s marketing would have you believe that every beach in the Caribbean is chock-full of Corona-drinking vacationers, the real locals drank Carib.

It’s essentially the same style as Corona: a light, crisp, clean, pale beer that tastes pretty good with a lime. Or without. Definitely a beer you can savor in warm weather, and that reminds you of sunny skies when winter clouds roll in.

1. Yuengling Lager:

An absolute no-brainer. Are there plenty of “better” beers out there? Of course! In fact, Lager (saying “I’ll have a Lager” in Pennsylvania gets you a Yuengling, not further questions about what kind of lager beer you want) used to be regarded as a sub-prime beer (to put it politely), and it’s still plenty cheap.

But it’s the very definition of a solid session beer. Just a little hop flavor, a mellow mouthfeel, and a smooth finish that doesn’t send you running for the toothbrush–or a glass of water. If one overindulges, I have it on good faith that the hangovers aren’t too unbearable, either. They could have Yuengling and Westleveren on tap–and to be honest, I’d have the Belgian. But only so I could compare it to Yuengling.

Any one of these beers would be a reasonable choice for a solid brew to keep you company until the end of your days. And who needs desert islands: if we could get Yuengling in Massachusetts, I’d probably never bother drinking anything else.

Well, maybe Yuengling Light Lager…gotta maintain this girlish figure.

What beers could you and your volleyball absolutely, positively not live without? Or does a particular wine vintage or a favorite rum rock your hammock instead?