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Thai Beer -- Essay

BANGKOK, Thailand -- As I sit here before a console in the office, I'm sipping at my favorite brew. The boss, Mr. Dragon, says I'm guzzling it, but he doesn't drink.
 

I do, like a fish. Or a whale, some say. In retirement I resemble that mammal more and more as the excess avoirdupois continues to pile up. The only exercise I get nowadays is when I'm in town and have to navigate a Sukhumvit overpass.

At my age, who cares if I get fat or not? My wife used to fret, back a dozen or so years ago when she was still making movies. But now she, too, is bloated, and we surrender: we lost the Battle of the Bulge.

She doesn't drink, either, and nobody (except maybe a few of you alkies out there) understands where I'm coming from. I love my wife and I like Mr. Dragon, but my affair with Thai beer is something more meaningful than marriage or employment.

Please follow our essay below.

 

 

Back in 1983, an Aussie named Scot Barme' introduced me to their national beer, which tastes (sorry, Scot) like dishwater.

Before that, my step-daughter and I used to go to the 4th of July picnic at ISB on Soi 15, Sukhumvit. While she downed a record number of hot dogs, I tried to swill down as many free (or ridiculously cheap) American beers. She always won, for the "Bud" was probably drawn from those huge horses they once advertised with.

Those horses must be dead now. No wonder; my kidneys are also weak. Not as weak as if my time had been wasted imbibing vatscrub or equine micturition, but pickled with the best brews in the world, which are found right here.

AMARIT was the first beer sampled under the tutorship of Roger Jones, a Britisher. I got hooked on Amarit dark draft because of its creamy caramel taste -- very much like some of the German brews I joyfully slurped at Schultz's Beer Garten in Austin, Tex, back in the late '50s when I was an undergraduate.

It was a German beer, and as everybody in the world knows the only brewmasters to hire are of that nationality. Though "Bud" tries to sound German, it's really Swedish. In my opinion, the Swedes should have stuck to ice cream.

SINGHA became my favorite tipple when Roger went to Cambodia, then back to England, and the puritan Revolting Students took over. That was '75 or thereabouts, and my infatuation for the brisk, clean flavor of that brew held me in thrall until recently.

CHAN hit the market a couple of years ago, but -- even though it's the cheapest going -- never caught my fancy. Too bitter, even though it won a gold award from an Australian organization. Maybe it's popular in the outback; I don't like it.

LEO is the newest on the market and my favorite. It's twenty baht less dear than Singha and supposedly less alcoholic, but I defy any other dedicated beer drinker to tell the difference between Singha and Leo.

Mr. and Mrs. Boon Rawd, I apologize in advance for what I'm about to say. Are they from the same vats? Even though brew from the top is lighter and more alcoholic and bottoms stuff has less proof and more hops, "Sing" tastes like it's top of the vat while Leo comes from about the middle. They're sisters.

I won't ask whatever happened to "Sing Gold", just as I won't ask your competitors about Amarit. Meanwhile, the snot-nosed imported booze buyers can have all the Japanese scotch, American wine, and Australian bellybuttonwash they want. Hey, how about another Leo? ##

By Don Bott

© Copyright 1998-2008 by Rainer F. Otto

   
   

 

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