Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Great Culinary Adventures in, Uh, Weirdness

A couple months back, LLQool sent me a photo she took of a poster in a convenience store down South advertising the Budweiser Chelada... a heady mix of Bud, salt, lime and Clamato juice.

Yes, folks, you read right.


Clamato juice.


The thought of combining all that in a can and marketing it as something you'd want to drink both horrified and intrigued us. I can see a bunch of frat boys mixing it up at a kegger trying to make a signature cocktail (I mean, I know people who drink Red Bull with Jager and not only live to tell about it, but claim to enjoy it). But for one of the country's biggest brewers to market it nationally?


Huh.


I saw it a couple weeks ago at the local supermarket, sold in singles. I had to try it. I opted for the Bud Light version because I didn't want to waste the calories, assuming I didn't spit it out.
"This any good?" asked the cashier, wrinkling her nose at the word Clamato splashed prominently across the can.
"I don't know, but it sounds disgusting."
She nodded, then gave me a look: "So why you buyin' it?"
Ah, my dear cashier friend, that would take too much explaining. Just put the Beermato can in my canvas Trader Joe's bag* and send me on my way.
(Aside: I picked up most of my canvas grocery bags over the years at Trader Joe's in Nevada, Illinois and New York, and was horrified to learn the nearest TJ's to here is eight hours away in Albuquerque (I know it's eight hours because I checked, thinking it might be worth a drive one weekend). I just assumed there'd be one in Denver or Boulder. In all seriousness, had I known the nearest TJ's was eight hours south and the nearest Ikea was eight hours west (near Salt Lake City) and there is no H&M for miles and miles in any direction, well, I might not have moved here. And, apparently, I am not alone in my yearning for cheap high-quality olive oil, affordable RGBH-free Gorgonzola, 100% pure Italian Blood Orange juice for a song and basement-priced pumpkin butter. Several times since moving here, as I carry my TJ bags around the store, I have been accosted by strangers who run up to me with a wild look in their eyes and ask, in the same desperate yet hopeful tone: "Is there a Trader Joe's around here?!" I say no, the bags are old and from elsewhere, and receive crestfallen silence in reply. I feel their pain.)


(Another aside: I don't drink Bud or Bud Light. Actually, I don't drink beer much at all, and when I do have something in that general category it's a Newcastle or Guinness or something else I can't see through. From my dim recollection of trying beers in college when I was attempting to be cool, all mass-produced American beers taste kinda like, well, lightly-carbonated pasta water mixed with the yellow Triaminic cough syrup.)


As you can see, the Chelada has a kind of eerie glow to it. I liked the look of it, actually, and thought it would be cool to serve at Halloween in a punch bowl with those plastic ice cubes you can get that light up inside.


(No, my glass is not dirty... I took a sip before I took the picture, so the bits on the rim are, uh, lime bits and residual Clamato. I guess.)


The taste... well... if you drained a can of tomatoes, took the liquid and lightly carbonated it, you would approximate a Chelada. No obvious beer taste (no pasta water or yellow Triaminic). Thank the gods no clamminess. Just kind of watery, slightly salty tomato-ish fizz.


Actually... I kinda liked it.


I'm not saying I'll trade in my black rum and Dark N Stormies anytime soon. Or my blood orange sage martinis. Or my Nutty Bushmen (Frangelico and Amarula... try it and thank me later). Or my Newcastles. Or my damn cheap red wine with cheetahs on the bottle.


But, well, offer me a ladleful from a glowing bowl at Halloween and yeah, I'd drink it.


Add some fresh tomatoes, garlic and onions and you've got a decent gazpacho too, I'm guessing. Freeze it into a granita and serve it with some chilled shrimp. Poach some tilapia in it and serve warm or chilled on a green salad with some good olives.
Uh-oh. I'm coming up with recipe ideas. I may... have to buy more.


3 comments:

Tommy said...

This reminds me of something which is rumored to exist in eastern Oregon called Red Beer, basically a mixture of tomato juice and cheap lager. A little internet research reveals that it has variants in Tornado Alley.

When I worked as a barista back in Michigan, we would chill a few shots of espresso at the end of the night, and after closing up, take the chilled espresso to the pub next door and mix it 50/50 with Guinness. We called it a Doberman. Now that there's some good stuff.

Anonymous said...

It looks like a Tequila Sunrise, but doesn't seem half as appealing. (This from someone who doesn't like beer or Clamato)

The Pastry Pirate said...

it does look like a tequila sunrise. i've never had one, but i'm guessing it tastes better than fizzy, watery tomato runoff.

and tommy: sorry, but stale espresso is stale espresso, even chilled and mixed into guiness!! that sounds to me like one of those "drinks of convenience." but let me know if you have a red beer and what it tastes like. i can't say it sounds appetizing, but it would be interesting to experience, you know, in the name of science!