Why are you doing this to yourself? That is a very good question, and a reasonable way to start this review. Bud Light Lime has been the butt of many of my jokes in the past. Honestly, when trying to come up with the worst beer imaginable, I always point to BD Lime. It sounds terrible. An unholy abomination of beer.
But sometimes you have to put your taste buds where your smack talk is. It was time for me to buy and review this beer. This beer equivalent of the white frat guy with dreadlocks. And no, I did not get a little bottle of this fine elixir. No, I bought big boy weighing in at 1 pint and 6 fluid ounces, but at a sessionable 4.2% ABV. The plan was to drink the whole thing to get the true experience. As the label said, it was a “Premium light lager with 100% natural lime flavor.” No freshness date.
I poured it into a tulip glass to get all of the sensory characteristics, although I would think a frosty mug would have been the natural environment for one of these brews in the wild.
The appearance was many shades of yellow. The BL Lime is straw yellow in most of the glass with shades of Big Bird on the edges. It reminded me of a pale, and pure, Berliner Weiss, although the head was fizzy and quickly disappeared to the flatness of flat apple juice.
The aroma was lime with a capital “L”, but in the background was a corn sweetness that lingered. There were stages to the lime. First was the smell of a lime flavored freezer pop. Then it turned to the aroma of fresh limes, and then, towards the end, it mirrored a lime soda.
The taste was what I had steadied myself for. I had cleared my calendar of good beer in anticipation of a taste bud crusher. I was sure I was going to have bandages on my tongue like that kid that got stuck to a metal pole in a Christmas Story. But that didn’t happen.
The body was water thin. The carbonization was high and prickly. But there was very little for me to wrap my mouth around. The beer had a very persistent lime flavor and the whole taste experience was simple and one-note. There was no bitterness and, towards the beginning, there was very little aftertaste. I was prepared for a light-struck bottle with more skunk ass than Pepe Le Pew’s wet dreams, but the lime covered it all up.
There is obviously a reason why people have been putting lime in Coronas for so many years. To mask the flaws of these beers, and add some sort of flavor.
Part of a thorough analysis of a beer is to let it warm up a bit and to see how the flavors evolve and get more complex. I was going out with the family that night, and I let it sit on the bathroom counter while I showered. After getting out, beer fatigue was setting in. It became hard to drink and started to taste like one of those bottles of lime juice you can buy at the grocery store. At this point, it became difficult to finish. But I did, dammit.
I was prepared to hate the Bud Light Lime but, in the end, there was very little to love or hate. The panacea of lime made everything level and unremarkable. I’m not recommending the Bud Light Lime, but I can see how it would be refreshing on a hot summer day, or paired with Mexican or even Thai. It won’t stand up to those flavors, but it might cool and revive your taste buds in extreme moderation.
In the end, this wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t beer.
Are there more “bad beer” reviews in my future? I do not know. You tell me.