I am a novelty whore. I voluntarily ate both spawns of the Doritos Locos Taco. I actively sought out (and drank!) Rogue’s Voodoo Donut Maple Bacon ale and DuClaw’s Sweet Baby Jesus Peanut Butter porter. If it’s unorthodox for the sake of oddness, chances are very high that I will want to try it. Once.
Beer gadgetry isn’t something new. The ancient Egyptians had kegerators built out of crudely dug clay ditches and special insulated pots. The Vikings turned pelts and animal horns into particularly badass drinking vessels, because screw regular old cups. In the dizzying whirl of the information age we’ve got Beer Keurigs, beer-chilling rods, flavor-infusers, pressurized growlers, and now, beer enhancing goo:
OnTap Liquid Beer Enhancer – Pale Ale
Makes 18 “beers” – $4.99
Here’s the idea: You’re a craft beer person, out gallivanting in the social wilderness like craft beer people are apt to do. You somehow, against your best efforts, find yourself in a place where there is no craft beer, and you’re super bummed about it. Your friend offers you a Miller/Coors/Bud light from the overstocked cooler and you cringe; even the idea of all that the corn or rice adjunct burns the back of your tongue. But fear not! In your pocket is a little white egg of brownish-orange goo that can save you from the tragic blandness. A few squirts and that faded yellow becomes decadent amber, the fizzy weak flavor becomes an orgy of delight happening directly on (top of) your tongue.
It’s a solid premise. Make not so good beer into OK beer so that you can force it down without too much gagging or too many audible “ughs.”
Unfortunately, the proposed premise is not properly perpetuated by the product.
Don’t Knock it ’till you try it; then knock it
I tapped (get it!?) my neighbors to find some beer that needed enhancing. After digging through their fridges like some classless drunk, I managed to score an MLB themed Budweiser, an amazingly engineered Miller Lite (with Punch Top™ for extra flow), and a classic can of Pottsville’s finest Yuengling Lager.
I didn’t waste any time. I jammed one of my good kitchen knives into the Miller Lite Punch Top™ and let that baby flow, smooth as buttercream frosting, into my glass. Then I squirted a generous blast of OnTap Pale Ale goo into the beer, using the instructional video as a rough guide.
There are no instructions with this stuff. There should really be some instructions. It says to “always dilute in a full glass of beer,” but that’s like an omelette recipe that says, “maybe add some eggs or something.”
I think I used too much. Got too zealous with my squeezing. The Miller turned from well-hydrated-piss yellow to a pretty decent amber color. The pure white head was tinted sort of orange, but not in a gross way. It certainly looked more appetizing.
And then my nose, like a catcher taking a 105mph fastball to the ribs, caught a whiff of what it smelled like. Stale malt, bananas so old they’re completely black, party-favor lip gloss. Maybe some over steeped Darjeeling in a rusty tea pot. Nothing beer-like. Definitely nothing enhanced.
The taste was horrible, with special emphasis on the “horr” part, as in its flavor was the horrifying result of a horrific bargain with a cosmic horror. It was mainly malt, but behind that there were clear notes of potting soil, burlap, and shrimp toast. It was in no way appetizing, and actually made me not like beer for one very, very, very brief moment.
But, I had used what seemed like a lot of this stuff, so I attributed the overwhelming badness to user error. Maybe it’s not compatible with MillerCoors products and I missed that in the extensive documentation.
I gave it another go. This time with America’s favorite pale-lager and America’s favorite pastime.
I used a lot less, but got pretty much the same deal. Yellow to gold. Smells so alien they belong in a H.R. Giger painting. Tastes like eating chemicals off of a factory floor. I couldn’t finish either beer and ended up breaking one of my hardcore beer rules: I poured them down the drain, saluting them as the washed out into some Potomac river tributary.
I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’d prefer to drink either of these beers without trying to make them better. At least they are shameless in their roles as tasteless vehicles for alcohol.
I didn’t even bother adding any goo to the Yuengling. I drank it quickly, with purpose, as a palate cleanser. Best Yuengling I’ve ever had, except for maybe the one I had at my wedding reception.
After about an hour of puzzling over the smells and tastes, putting little droplets of the goo concentrate of my fingers to study it, I realized what this stuff is. It’s liquid malt extract – the kind that comes in big cans used by homebrewers – watered down to a point where it can be squeezed out of a little bottle. I have no real proof of this of course, but the similarities are uncanny.
There is so much more to beer than malt. Even kits that use malt extract are boiled for at least an hour and have hops and other goodies added to them. Beer is the culmination of the brewing process; it can’t be faked or “enhanced” or recreated with chemicals and colorants. Without each step, done carefully and skillfully, the end result is not beer. Some weird thing wearing a beer mask, trying to talk and act like beer maybe, but definitely not real ale or lager.
I sort of admire this company for trying something new, but unfortunately, I can’t recommend this stuff. If you’re forced to drink something decidedly uncrafty, just smile and be a cool dude about it. I’d rather be the guy grimacing every few minutes than the obnoxious guy who has to inject all his beer with mysterious liquids to make them “good.”
Better to put the $4.99 this stuff costs towards a six-pack of real pale ale.
Tagged: beer, beer enhancer, beer gadgetry, beer gadgets, beer goo, budweiser, craft beer, how does one enhance beer?, miller lite, on tap beer enhancer, review, taste test, yuengling
I’m sorry you had to do this, but glad you’re selfless enough to do it so the rest of us don’t. Good man.
I suppose they could always use hopped malt extract, or make their own with extra hops to give it a more American pale ale flavor, but that wouldn’t be cost efficient.
Perhaps this is made for a new type of Frat Brah. A modern ManBoy. One who has a refined palate, but still wants to make sophomoric jokes about squirting goo into things.
I was inspired by my morbid curiosity. I knew deep-down it would be bad. But HOW bad?
I think some hop would help this stuff, but it wouldn’t save it. You just can’t fake good beer.
Don’t even know who this is supposed to be for. Clueless people who want to be into beer but don’t know how to use a bottle opener? I don’t even.
Holy crap!!! I gotta tell my wife about this! Why in hell’s acres did I not know of this when, a few months back, a good friend, with poor taste in beers, kept buying us Heinekens? This may make the remainder of our lives! Thank you from the bottom of our Hoombahs, Oliver.
I’m glad I could provide a necessary service!
Thanks for your reply, Oliver. I felt bad that I left a comment before I realized that you were not actually recommending the product. I should have known something that seemed too good to be true was indeed just that;)
Haha, I was a little confused. I didn’t want to be overtly mean to the makers of OnTap, but I thought to myself, “was I way too subtle?”
Oh, I meant to say that I’d do discreetly and not be the douche bag guy you mention at the end of your post;)
Have you tried using it as a condiment? Perhaps like the way Vegemite is used? I will however try it – at the very least, it’ll make Coors taste like something.
This is actually the best idea I’ve heard. Will figure out how to use the rest of this bottle as a food additive.
I guess some beers are just beyond redemption.
Yea. I think the lesson here is, “drink good, don’t drink bad and try to make it good.”
So funny, kind of like the gel bra of the beer world. You can only do so much with what you’ve got
I had to Google “gel-bra” and am equal parts happy and sad that I did.
Or you can just bring a flask to that party. Jameson’s makes EVERYTHING better.
I’d much rather dump some cheap tequila into some beer than this stuff, so I like where your head’s at.
That really did make me LOL! Now I have to find a way to get invited to as many parties as possible in hopes of getting my hands on some of that party favor lip gloss.
As for the product itself… Thank You! I’m one of the morons who might have actually bought something like that. Thankfully I’m an onmihol so if the craft beer selection isn’t up to acceptable standards I’ll enjoy a small batch tequila, whiskey (like the Balcones Baby Blue next to me), bourbon, or even a Gin & Tonic (Hendricks or Plymouth, please).
Cheers!
I love the term “omnihol.” Describes me pretty well too. I have a hierarchy that is something like craft beer > red wine > rum > scotch > white wine > non craft beer > water > death.
Thanks for taking one for the team. I was hoping someone would review it. I still haven’t seen this stuff around anywhere. I can’t imagine it will be around long. It sounds awful.
Yea, I wish I had something nice to say, but, y’know. I had to order it online; haven’t physically seen it in any stores.
Your willingness to be a cultural guinea pig is commendable, and I hope your gag reflex recovers from this experiment.
What are writers if not social scientists constantly performing experiments on themselves?
Thanks for taking one for the team. Just found your blog. Love it (and beer).
You are welcome and thank you!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I always appreciate well executed consumer reporting.
Also, I’m with The Alemonger on the “omnihol” thing. If the beer sucks, I will always look for something else to drink.Then again, whether or not I refuse a beer occasionally depends upon who is doing the offering, e.g. when my dear Papa offered me a Heineken a couple weeks ago, I didn’t have the heart to refuse him. Good company is the best flavor enhancer after all.
I’m glad you liked it. The things we’ll do as consumers.
Yea, I actually don’t turn down beer very often. I’ve forced down my fair share of Miller just to not rock the boat at a party.
P.S. I love this “omnihol” idea; will definitely integrate it into my vocab.
About 30 years ago I was homebrewing, but trying to reduce (alcohol and calorie) consumption with near beers (best one was birell from West End). I concocted a home brew I called “dark beer additive”, with loads of roasted barley and hops. It was fermented out to a low alcohol content and bottled with minimal carbonation. I would add about 2 ounces to near beer or macro lager. It worked OK, probably better than the stuff you described in this post.