Beerlandia: Imperial Beer
Whenever I travel to a new country, I try to hit the trifecta of booze: 1) the standard national adjunct lager, 2) a local craft beer, and 3) the national spirit. My Costa Rica trip was a beautiful introduction to Central America, a region where I have almost no knowledge or expectations when it comes to beer and spirits. Time to break out the Beerlandia yardstick and hold it up to the everyman’s beer of Costa Rica, the brew you’ll find in luxury resorts or local family-owned sodas (small restaurants, not a pop drink). Grab an opener and crack open an ice-cold Imperial.
Beer: Imperial Beer
Brewery: Cerveceria Costa Rica (under FIFCO)
Country: Costa Rica
Style: American Adjunct Lager
ABV: 4.5%
Beerlandia Advisory: I wouldn’t seek it out, but I most certainly wouldn’t refuse one.
Imperial beer’s roots go all the way back to 1924 when it was first produced by Ortega Brewery, an operation founded by Spanish immigrants in 1914. Ortega was acquired by Florida Ice & Farm Co (FIFCO) in 1954 and continues to produce Imperial to this day as the parent company of Cerveceria Costa Rica. The label is not what one would call subtle, and you might have guessed correctly that there is some German influence in Costa Rica’s brewing history. Now that we got the boring stuff out of the way, let’s open it.
“It’s something cold and refreshing to keep in your hand on a hot and humid day that you shouldn’t think too hard about when consuming.”
Let’s set the scene, shall we? I just finished an 8 km hike through the cloud forests at El Tigre in Monteverde. The trail conditions were muddy and slippery, and the elevation gain was substantial. I’m ravenous. And thirsty. I order a massive plate of arroz con pollo and an ice-cold Imperial. The conditions are perfect for quaffing down cheap, basic lager.
Imperial pours a pale straw yellow gold with a moderate off-white head that vanishes pretty quickly. That glass in the photo contains papaya juice. I was so thirsty I didn’t photograph Imperial after the pour… It looks like any standard American adjunct lager you’ve ever seen because that’s exactly what it is.
The first whiff of this one did not exactly knock my socks off. To be honest, it was a little bit skunky. Then, the light grass and breadiness with a very faint hint of sweet malt came through after hovering for a while. It’s the kind of beer that almost smells of nothing at all unless you’re actually making the effort to analyze it. My first sip was more of a greedy swig that tasted of lightly sweet malted sparkling water. I quickly followed it up with a large spoonful of my arroz con pollo before taking a more measured sip that I could properly investigate. Subtle light hops and sweet malt were elevated by the high carbonation. It’s hard to deny that Imperial is crisp and refreshing, which supplements its relative blandness.
Imperial is the beer you get in Costa Rica when you need a beer now.
Imperial fills the same niche as Tsingtao does in China, Mythos in Greece, or Carlsberg in Denmark. It’s something cold and refreshing to keep in your hand on a hot and humid day that you shouldn’t think too hard about when consuming. My tastebuds struggle to find some nuance to latch onto. My savory and spicy arroz con pollo certainly played well with the high carbonation and subtle sweet maltiness, but without food to elevate it, Imperial is underwhelming. Am I going to be mad if someone offers me one? Far from it. I just don’t see myself seeking it out. Plop a sixer on the beach or put one in the cupholder of my mower on a hot day and I’ll be happy to have it. ◉
Written by Seth Barham
