I was originally going to turn my nose up to it.
I was meeting up with some long-time friends from my journalism days at a roadhouse near IKEA, last summer, and the beer menu didn't look promising to me. There were the standard Molson Coors offerings and no local craft beer, and I was almost going to order a glass of the house red.
But there was a brew that I didn't recognize and sounded Spanish, and I became curious.
It's a lager, which also made me tempted to pass it up, because that is one of my least favourite styles of beer. But then I thought, what the hell, I might as well try it so that I could objectively poo-poo it down the road.
And it was summer, and I was hot, and needed something light to quench my thirst.
To my surprise, I actually ended up ordering a second. This stuff wasn't that bad. And when, a few months later, I came across a four-pack of it in the LCBO, I decided to pick it up to do a proper review for Beer O'Clock.
And then, I promptly forgot about it in my basement beer fridge. DW and I went to Mexico with four of our friends. Christmas came and went, as did New Years.
Even when I saw that my supply of local craft beer was dropping, I didn't pay much attention to these bright red cans, but instead ordered more beer from a local brewery.
Almost three months have passed since I picked up this four-pack. In that time, I had one on New Years Day and gave one to my father when my folks were visiting. But then, this week, my eyes fell onto the remaining two cans and I thought I should finally give this lager my full attention.
For you.
In preparing for this review, I performed an online search and was surprised (not-so surprised) to learn that it's not Spanish at all, that it was originally produced in the UK by Coors, in collaboration with their Spanish subsidiary, which is based in Toledo La Sagra, Spain.
It's only 'inspired' by Spanish lagers. It's not really Spanish.
Looking at the can, now, I feel a bit deceived, as the main, identifying label is printed twice: once, in Spanish; and again, in French, to appease the Québec government language police. There is no English as part of the main label.
Another part of the labelling reads "Experience the Soul of Madrid," which might also lead one to believe it's a product of Spain.
In Canada, Madri (the Spanish name for Madrid) is brewed by Molson Coors, which now makes sense to me that the menu at that roadhouse only featured beer by that mega producer. Had I known on that summer evening, I would have definitely gone for wine.
But let's look at the beer that refreshed me enough to make me want to pick up that four-pack.
Molson Coors Beverage Company
Toronto ON
Appearance: pours a clear gold with a creamy white head and lots of effervescence.
Nose: a citrusy malt aroma that's fresh, almost like lemongrass.
Palate: the maltiness leads the way, followed by a slight pine resin flavour. The body is light and leaves a lingering, biscuity finish. On subsequent sips, the biscuit developed a caramel-like complexity that tempers the pine resin.
Overall impression: as I've said, lagers aren't my preferred style of beer but I've had enough of them to at least appreciate what they offer. Madri is a good example of a lager. It's easy-drinking and was perfect for that summer's evening with my friends.
And, given the alternatives from Molson Coors, it was the best bet.
That being said, I'm disappointed that a lager that is packaged to give the appearance of being Spanish seems to be done so to trick those who don't investigate to believe that they're drinking a product of Spain. And that's deceptive.
I don't support Molson and tend to avoid buying from colossal breweries. At a time where I'm buying Canadian—especially from small businesses—and avoiding anything that comes from the US, I feel many will be duped into thinking that they're buying from a Spanish brewery.
Sure, Madrid tastes good, but I won't be buying it again.
Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺
You can find Madrid in the LCBO and probably in The Beer Store.
Cheers.
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