Ballantine XXX Ale

Pabst Brewing Company
Brewed at Miller Brewing Company (MillerCoors)
Style: Golden Ale/Blond Ale
Woodridge, Illinois USA

Pours a light golden with a small, rapidly diminsihing, white head. The aroma is grainy with no noticible hop or malt. The flavor is grainy and light with a thin body and a finish that is mild.

Smells a little bitter and skunky unfortunately... Light golden body with just about no head. Somewhat sweet, just a hint of hops, but slighly skunky. Fairly light in body. Not that good, but I think I got a bad bottle. I’ll have to revise my review

Pours golden and effervescent with a thin foamy off-white head. Aroma of light graininess, toasted malt, and bread dough. Taste is lightly sweet maltiness, corn, breadiness, lager yeast. Mouthfeel is medium bodied with moderate carbonation. Not bad, tastes like a lager though.

Not bad. I believe this was the beer of The Yankees back when my dad was a kid. Dry and papery, but for what it is, it’s a tad better than most of the macros.

I had no idea that this brew had such a legendary cheap beer status - I guess there’s a reason for that. This beer was bad. I poured the last third of my glass down the sink - I never pour beer down the sink. Last week, I think Tuesday night, my wife and I were enjoying a cold one after a long day. Like she often does, she left about 1 shot of Blue Moon in glass. On this night, she left the remaining beer on the kitchen counter and we went to bed. When I got up the next morning and saw the beer I just couldn’t pour it out so I took it down. Blue Moon that had been sitting out for 7 hours - OK. Fresh, ice cold Ballantine - down the drain. Its not favorable.

A nice golden pour with a little fizzy head. An aroma of corn jumps out at me and a light maltiness. The beer was ok not as bad as I had feared. It had a slight papery flavor. It was pretty smooth drink but just a little fizzy. Not as bad as some people make it out to be. Will I drink it again? Sure if its free.

I think the year was 1989, I was a senior in High School and on a constant quest for trouble. Or, as it typically was, trouble found me. So, as it were, that year, myself, Bartzilla, Ray and a cast of characters all decided to take a little retreat to the Colorado River. Sounds lovely, right? Well, we ended up just outside of Blythe, California, where Vultures roam the land, and the heat swelters to 118 degrees in the summer months. Of course, we were there in Mid August. Blythe is no where near a lush, beautiful retreat. It’s dead mans land. To make matters worse, we decided to stay with some old crazy desert rat, named Al, who Ray knew. It was a place to lay our tents for free. We had no money, no women, and no idea of what to do. BUT, we did have cases upon cases of Ballantine. Perfect, right? So, yours truly, along with my merry cast of characters I was with, including the old kooky desert rat, sat around drinking the hell out of the Ballantine, until our livers pleaded for mercy. After several hours of this, Bartzilla and I decided to go throw the football around on the nice cool grassy area about 50 yards down the road. Mind you, this grassy area was a beautiful sight to see in this heat......there were kids playing, sprinklers going crazy......we knew we had to throw the football over there. Well, we decided to go barefoot. As we quickly made the jaunt to our grassy oasis, we realized two things: The ground was sizzling hot, and full of little rocks. It hurt. It hurt bad. But, at this point, we were half way there. What do you do? Turn around and run back? No, you proceed, because you’re men, and you’re full of Ballantine. We eventually did make it, and threw the football, but then, we had to walk all the way back. Again.......pain. So, when we got back, yours truly thought "I’ll go dip my feet in the ice cold river" Well, I started walking down the small hill, towards the water, when I began sliding, on my feet, and as I was sliding down the hill, I could actually feel the bottoms of my feet tearing up, with my skin being torn from my feet like slicing a ham. My feet were already tender, and the slide down the hill ensured me grief and horrendous pain. I managed to get to the river, and sat down, and I was shocked when I pulled up the bottom of my feet to look a them. The skin was completely gone, only to reveal pure flesh. Needless to say, I had a crappy weekend, and to this day, I blame the Ballantine. Also of Note: The ballantine cans have three rings on the can, which oddly resemble the seal for radioactivity. Just thought I’d throw that out.

Astronaut...tang...orange and blah tang, nice clear look but thats is all she wrote very tang tang tang with a bad aftertaste