It was an epic beer battle, characterized by clashes of wit, flashes of inspiration and a good deal of laboured clever-dicking by two men experienced in things Beer but perhaps not versed in the language of beer tasting. Rationalizing away the narrow two beer loss to my competitor has proved as simple sucking back a cold one on a hot day: while my taste buds have been gradually eroded down to stubs through manly activities like eating Big Papa’s Super Hot Chilli, licking untreated pine logs and gargling with industrial strength bleach each morning, my competitor’s buds have kept their childish sensitivity due to his tongue merely being used for talking about the latest fashion in napkin weave, top hats and poetry. That’s right. Poetry.
Overall, the beers we drank ranged from pleasantly drinkable to absolute swill; something I wouldn’t feed to my worst enemy’s dog.
For me, the wild card was the Marmara. Long experience has taught me -yes, the hard way- NEVER to trust a beer that is NEVER for sale in a bar, and that you can only get in a supermarket. On a low shelf, no less. Never having drunk it before, I was on the look-out. My prejudice led me to guess Marmara three times, skewing things badly. The biggest shock was my violent hatred of Efes. Now, I know I don’t like it. It is the beer equivalent of farting. You have to do it sometimes but it is rarely pleasant for you or your loved ones.
But after the first one it ain’t too bad. In the blind taste I acted as though the devil himself had pissed in my glass after he had shared a plate of asparagus the night before with Heinrich Himmler and Frank Sinatra. And what did I name it? Marmara.
What follows are the increasingly muddied and ill-informed opinions of guys who were getting steadily drunk. There is NO ONE better placed to give you advice on what to drink for under five lira in Istanbul.
Efes Unfiltered
This is a fairly pointless beer that is neither fish nor fowl. It is cloudy but doesn’t have the heart joy of a proper wheat beer. It stays flat on the tongue and doesn’t really earn its place in the fridge.
Has a strong taste that sneaks up on you so at first you think ‘meh’ and then you upgrade that to ‘weh?’ I enjoyed this beer and if it was in a bar I would have no qualms with getting nicely drunk on this.
Mariachi
Strong and limber, like a lady assassin. The only distinction here is the unpleasant citrus aftertaste that leaves you wondering why you didn’t just pay two liras more for the Corona.
Too sweet. Tastes like something idiots buy during their first few years of drinking.
Efes Brown
How this one got past the marketing guys I have no idea. It is hard to decide if this is actually quite nice or a hideous travesty. As a beer it is ridiculous, but as an alcoholic coffee it has merit.
For some reason this exists. My only guess is that someone somewhere decided that because people love really sweet coffee and really weak beer these things should be combined together and sold to the public.
Efes Light
The Wonderbra of beers, this promises so much only to deliver so little. The golden colour of the beer brings you only a hint of flavour when it hits your tongue, which quickly dissipates to nothing. A good choice if you like not beer nor getting drunk.
A wimpy beer. It was crap and weak but inoffensive. I can imagine drinking tons of this and complaining bitterly throughout the experience.
Efes Dark
The nastiness of the extra 1.2% of alcohol is tamed somewhat by the caramel sweetness of the beer. This is an easy drinker, tasty and rounded, beery but not bitter. It has a nice fizz which helps it get downed fast.
Could see myself getting completely wasted off like two of these. It’s a dark, almost red beer with a strong taste that lingers on the tongue.
Gusta
This is a confident beer that knows it is good. Wheaty with a solid, fluffy head; cloudy as an English summer. The first beer would be a pleasant, the second less so, and the third a labour. A classic wheat beer should be long-term quaffable. Gusta is good but not German good.
Really enjoyed this. It reminded me of Sunday nights sat drinking premium priced beers in uni while talking about movies. Nice and cloudy, looking into it is like swimming underwater with rubbish goggles.
Efes Pilsen
It is hard to explain my hysterical and overwrought reaction to Efes’ flagship beer. From my notes: “my piss has more personality”, “brings to mind a rusty vat with a family of rats living under it”, “strong in a poisonous and deeply unsettling way”. Enough said.
Unlike my learned friend I was less passionate in my hatred of this beer though in my notes my positives are heavily qualified i.e. “Could comfortably drink this all night IF I HAD TO“ Tim’s right though it is too strong, too sweet and there’s always too many of them in my fridge.
Efes Extra
Strong like a surprise punch in the throat. Foul. Imagine a weeping sore on a leper’s arse. Extra is flavoured with the fluid that comes out of that sore.
The initial taste feels like it would need to be removed from your tongue with a laser. The taste is terrible and hangs on the tongue like a condemned man on the gallows.
Marmara
My Achilles heel turned out to be perfectly reasonable. It was flat as a table but strong in a fleeting way. It is kind of like breathing: you don’t really actively enjoy it, but it is all about the effect.
This was not bad actually. The first taste was nice and strong and hinted that this beer would get you bladdered either instantly or over the course of a long night. I like those odds. In my notes I also wrote “if someone gave me this at a wedding I wouldn’t punch the groom’s mother in her tits”. In my defence this was beer number 9.
Bomonti
The stand out winner. We knew it was good but it was edifying to see how our sighted judgement was on the money. Beery but not overly so, this is a drink that you could spend many Friday afternoons with.
Best for last. Taste as though it should be more expensive with a crisp flavour that doesn’t overstay its welcome. A game-changer when it comes to beers in Turkey.
Honourable Mention: Tuborg Gold.
When the dust settled, we realised that this delicious drink had not made it to the table. An oversight, yes, but I am confident it would have poled well. It was, and continues to be, my easy drinking beer at home.
Honourable Mention: My victory.
In the end I, Sean, guessed seven out of the ten beers while Tim, a drunk, only guessed five. It would appear the CIA may have him pushing too many pencils after all.
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