I have sipped the nectar of Satan, and its name is Bud Light & Clamato Chelada.
I don't know who concocted this devil's brew of light beer mixed with the juices of limes, tomatoes and ... clams. Yes, clams.
Somehow, somewhere, someone thought it would be a good idea to bring together all of these things and serve them in can format to unsuspecting Southerners.
Midnight Sunner Evan first told me about the stuff, and jmgiordano picked up this tall can of it in South Carolina, where he said it appeared to be at least semi-popular. After trying some myself, I don't see how that's possible.
Besides having one of the most awkward names in the mainstream beer market, Bud Light & Clamato Chelada costs $1.99 for a tall can like this one.
As you can tell from the small fancy glass in the photo, it's dirty salmon in color.
The taste? How do I describe the taste?
Have you ever dipped your hand into the dark, mysterious waters of the Inner Harbor and licked your fingers? ...
Me neither. But I imagine it would taste something like Bud Light & Clamato Chelada, only less salty.
The first thing you notice when Bud Light & Clamato Chelada hits your lips is its saltiness. It's salty enough to kill a weaker man. Fortunately, I am a stronger man. Still, I could feel my liver and kidneys groaning as I took the first sip.
The second thing you notice is the clam juice.
When I was a kid, I used to dig up nasty river clams with my feet. One time, I convinced my parents to cook them so I could have them for dinner. In my 9-year-old mind, the clams would be delicious. My parents knew better, but they humored me.
The clam juice in Bud Light & Clamato Chelada reminds me of the taste of those river clams -- the bitter sting of shattered childhood dreams.
Fortunately for us Marylanders, I haven't seen Bud Light & Clamato Chelada on shelves ... yet. But if you do, keep your distance. This stuff is only for masochistic drinkers.
(Photo by me)