Altes Original Detroit Lager

In my youth, I drank my share of Altes. It was cheap. It also comes in a generic standard stubby bottle which at a time, for some reason, was only five cents bottle deposit versus the usual 10 cent Michigan law. Bonus budget, right?

If you were to asked me today if I remembered what it tasted like back then, I wouldn't really be able to tell you. It was the quantity over quality era of my life. I can tell you though that when I first saw that it was coming back (in name at least) I kinda shuddered.

No, I could not tell you what I remember it tasting like but I can recall a story of puking after way too many of them one night.

That's not to say I wasn't curious about trying this new take on it. As described on the Altes website this beer is brewed "to emulate the original refreshing European style Altes lager that Detroiters loved" it, along with Stroh's, Goebel and, to a lesser extent, Pfeiffer were pretty dang ubiquitous across the state of Michigan for decades and decades. My first chance to give it a try was at a local watering hole downtown in my hometown at the start of this summer. Two-fifty a pint. Budget bonus flashback right then and there.

Light golden in color and a solid three finger head that had some retention and left a good amount of lace behind after fading, this beer looked like how most macro lagers are pictured in advertisements but never that way in real life. The aroma was that of buttered toast, lemon peel, white pepper and fresh cut lawn.

First sips had the flavors of light citrus, cornflakes, green apples and grains. As it breathes a slight bit notes of honey and a piney hops become more noticeable though the latter doesn't get too bossy in the flavor profile. It finishes clean and crisp.

A week or so after trying it, I spotted a twelver of cans on sale. It went home with me. Actually a few have come home with me over this past summer. It's become my after chores or when unexpected guests stop by porch beer. It seems an appropriate one for such things

The only thing that's been missing from it being the full vintage Michigan lager experience so far is not yet seeing an old ratty pickup pass by with at least two people riding in the back and its radio bumpin' the RIF where Big Daddy Arthur P is saying its "82 rock and roll over degrees in the Motor City, BABY!"
Drink the beer many a grandpa did here

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