Category: Cambodian Beer

Brewer: Cambrew

To let the cat out of the bag is an especially cruel idiom for anyone who has actually either seen a bagged cat or attempted to bag one for themselves. Folk etymology has it that the idiom developed from the practice of unscrupulous suckling pig vendors substituting a live cat for a pig, (‘the pig in a poke’). Letting the cat out of the bag discloses a horrible and much less-tasty secret. Cambrew have let the cat out of the bag, a bag that they should sink back into the aphotic depths of the Tonle Sap filled with horseshoes.

Cambrew says“Black Panther Stout is a stout named after the powerful symbol for strength, energy and health. Black Panther Stout embodies the full quality of a stout with an alcohol content of 8% to 8.3% by volume. Black Panther Stout is robust, full bodied with special bitterness and a strong hoppy aroma, to put back what the day has taken out.”

I say: I was hoping for an imperial stout that did Huey P. Newton proud. J. Edgar Hoover called the Black Panthers ‘the greatest threat to internal security in the United States’ and I believe that this beer is an equal threat to the security of my internal organs. Alcohol content is 8%, so Black Panther burns on the way down like setting fire to Watts in 1966 and then beats you about the liver like a COINTELPRO agent. Thin head, burnt butter and molasses flavours. Finish is dry and astringent.

Availability: Widely available, can only

If this beer was an animal, it would be: A jive turkey

The beer that asks the question to which you answer, “Of course I do, but not this one”.

There is a moment in The Man With The Golden Gun where Herve Villechaize, that white-suited, vindictive dwarf from Fantasy Island, chats with James Bond about killing his boss, Francisco Scaramanga (played inimitably by Christopher Lee). ‘If you kill him, I get to keep the island’ says the dwarf, referring to Scaramanga’s tropical island lair and most likely to Fantasy Island as well. Just like you should be suspicious of a man bedecked in a white suit, you too should be suspicious of a beer that is dressed in a white can.

I became even more apprehensive about this beer when I couldn’t easily ascertain its origin. According to the can, this brew’s island lair is Singapore and is rumoured to be brewed by APB, the same team that bring you ABC Stout. I say rumoured because the only reference I can find for a point of origin of this beer is on www.beergirls.org: a non-government organisation devoted to monitoring “sales practices and health, safety and welfare policies of major globalized beer companies observed doing business in Cambodia” in their handy spotter’s guide to the beer promotion women of Siem Reap.

APB says: Nothing.

Beergirls.org says: “Frankly, I abhor your policies in these regions and I would prefer taking my business to a company that does not have such reprehensible practices.”

I say: The novelty of making jokes about the emaciated quality of Asian beer is beginning to wear thin. Ho ho. There is a suspicious hint of hops oil bitterness but not much malt. Does not taste or smell anything like “love”.

Availability: Uncommon, can only.

Brewer: Boon Rawd
This isn’t actually a Cambodian beer, it’s brewed in Thailand by the same folks that bring Singha Lager to Indochina. Boon Rawd introduced it in the 1990s to compete for the bottom end of the Thai market where Singha dare not tread and, sadly, it has made its way into Cambodia, possibly aimed at people who don’t find the leopard on the can confusing. Leo is Latin for ‘lion’, but my guess is that it is also Thai for ‘insipid’.

Boon Rawd says: ‘Leo Beer is a full-flavored standard lager beer with a smooth and pleasant finish’

I say: Another beer so thin that it has an aerodynamic quality. At the very least, you can tell that there actually is some malt in there, somewhere, hidden behind a weak honey smell. It’s characterless but not irredeemably awful.

Brewer: Cambrew

One of my more fond memories of my American housemates while I was living in California was sitting out the front of our rented dive on Friday afternoons in some plastic deckchairs, drinking 40s of malt liquor from brown paper bags. We were white (and Hispanic) trash and we enjoyed white trash beer and the process lowering the tone of the entire neighbourhood. My housemate Adam would always buy Bud. Generally, I’d buy either Mickey’s or Schlitz malt liquor, mostly because the word ‘Schlitz’ rolls off the tongue so slickly that it makes you feel that someone has greased you up all over.

Klang Beer brings back those memories for exactly the wrong reason. If I was generous I’d call it a ‘strong lager’ but it isn’t. It’s malt liquor. It uses beer as a vague point of reference to which they add too much alcohol. The one reason you drink malt liquor is for effect and it holds no illusions otherwise. Klang means ‘strong’ in Khmer, and to illustrate the point, Cambrew have put Cambodia’s strongest non-mythical creature on the bottle, the elephant, to assist the illiterate to get blind as well.

Cambrew says (on the can): ‘Klang Beer is carefully brewed using the most advanced brewing technology available. It is brewed to the highest possible standard for beer drinkers the world over. Klang Beer is a perfect drink for all kinds of celebration and it can be savoured at any time of day. Mind you, it’s a very strong beer but go ahead and take the challenge! After all, it is specially brewed for you.

I say: How can you resist a beer that actually issues you with a challenge? And you can take that challenge at any time of day? Mmm…alcomohol. Thin and yellow with a curious bile aftertaste. No head, no hops, no fun.

Extra Klang Stout.

In my scribbled notes for Extra Klang Stout, I wrote these words in capital letters: THERE IS WRONG. There was something severely amiss with this beer. It had gritty sediment in it and it wasn’t the positive, bottom-fermented yeast sediment. This sediment was jet black and crunchy. Strangely, this Klang is less klang than the lager, with a paltry 6% alcohol by volume.

Cambrew says: ‘A superb combination of malt, hops and yeast. Brewed to perfection for that wholesome, satisfying taste’

I say: A superfluous combination of malt, hops, and sand from the Mekong. You can smell the alcohol through the malt, but is redeemed by a hint of brown sugar. Customary bile aftertaste. No burnt dark malt flavours. Poor head retention. I’m giving this one the benefit of the doubt, because maybe I unluckily received an extremely old can of it.

Availability: Can only, stocked by most roadside stalls.

Brewer: Cambrew

Living in Cambodia is about being constantly surprised by everything that transpires around you. That Cambodians both manufacture and drink dark beers came as a small surprise. That they can do it well came as an even larger one. After trashing practically every cambodian beer I’ve imbibed purely for reasons of science, I had come to expect that the rest of the beers that I had left to review would fill me bewilderment and unease rather than surprise. I was wrong.

Cambrew says: Nothing. The 640ml bottle says alcohol by volume is 8%, and its contents are of “export quality”. As far as their website goes, Angkor Extra Stout does not exist.

I say: Toffee aroma on the inital pour without much head retention. Alcohol is well disguised behind excellent burnt malt flavour with a hint of chocolate. Slightly oily mouthfeel.

If this beer was one of James Brown’s hits, it would be: Say it loud, I’m black and I’m proud

Brewer: Cambodia Breweries

I’m attracted to ABC Stout’s billboards rather than the product itself which is not a good sign for any beer. They feature a mysterious Asian guy pimped out like James Bond with a briefcase full of crisp, unmarked US dollars and a pair of Asian models: obviously the spoils of drinking the dark stuff. ABC is Cambodia’s leading stout, possibly because of this marketing campaign, possibly because the other stouts are a travesty against malted barley. The 8% alcohol kick also gives your motodop the extra incentive to buy it, rather than one of it’s lesser friends, to make driving you around more
bearable.

ABC is brewed by APB -owned Cambodia Brewery Ltd, not to be confused with Cambodia’s other similarly-named brewery, Cambrew. APB own a fistful of pan-Asian beer brands and licenses: Anchor, Tiger, bizzaro Heineken, and along with ABC Stout, brew them all at their factory in Kandal.

Cambodia Brewery says: “Determined, confident and successful, APB’s proprietary ABC Extra Stout reflects its core drinker’s values and self-image. ABC Stout drinkers know what they want and will go the extra mile to get it. They want the best and do not settle for anything less. Appreciated for its full-bodied and robust taste, ABC is the leading premium stout in Cambodia.”

I say: With confident and determined marketing hyperbole, I successfully went the extra mile to the Caltex service station to get my robust can of ABC. Dark stout, tan head with OK retention – a first for a Cambodian beer so far. It’s a bit more like a porter than a stout, with not a whole lot of charred dark malt goodness. Weirdly thin body with an acidic aftertaste.

If this beer was an archipelago it would be:
A Solzhenitsyn metaphor

Brewer: Cambrew

Evil has many faces, and in this case, it has the stony visage of Jayavaraman VII doing his Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara impression. Jayavaraman VII was known for his patronage of epic Angkorian architecture rather than his ability to transmute barley into alcoholic goodness and despite his complete lack of brewing skills, the beer with his statue on it pays him nothing but disrespect.

Cambrew says: “This exotic beer is brewed in Sihanoukville, Cambodia employing the best traditional processes. Bayon Beer embodies the full quality of a Asian beer with an alcohol content of between 5.0% to 5.2%. Bayon beer is essentially catered to Asian drinkers with a smooth and hoppy aroma to give a pleasant after taste. Bayon Beer is refreshing and thirst quenching.”

I say: There’s rice malt in this beer and a whole lot of it, which is probably why Cambrew use the term “Asian” twice in their vignette. If you’re looking for a Khmerised version of a bad American beer, then this Bud is for you. Dry flavor, with an empty basement, mildew aroma. Thin enough for brushing your teeth in. No head, pale urine color.

Availability:All Cambodia, can only.

If this beer was a Cambodian landmark appropriate to the beer’s stature, it would be: a looted grave in Oddar Meanchey

Brewer: Cambrew

I thought that I’d start reviewing beer with Angkor: because as the bottle says, it’s the National Beer. Along with Bayon Beer, Cambrew have been brewing it in Sihanoukville since the 1960s with a long break for the Khmer Rouge regime, resuming operations in 1992.

Confusingly, the bottle also displays multiple Australian Beer Awards. As I have a vague and addled memory of attending one of these award festivals, I thought I should find out how they won. The International section of the awards is open to “all commercial brewers authorised, licensed or registered in their country of origin, with a minimum brewlength of 30 hL” – Cambrew produces about 5000 hL. Each year Angkor has been entered in “Class 1 – Lager, Subclass A European Style Lager” with fairly mixed results. The dirty secret of the Australian Beer Awards is that everyone gets a medal.

To “win” its Silver Medal in 2002, it was beaten for a Gold medal in the class by lager luminaries such as Toohey’s Hahn Premium Lager and Nambibia’s finest beer, Windhoek Lager. The award that counts, “Best in Class”, was deservedly won by James Squire Original Pilsener. By 2003, Angkor had slipped to Bronze medal, with the likes of Hollandia, a faux-import brew owned by Liquorland, aimed at the bottom end of the the supermarket chain’s market; and Vanuatu’s only entry, Vanuatu Beer. To add the classic Indochinese geopolitical insult to injury, Angkor was beaten in its class by Vietnam’s BGI.

Cambrew Says: “A rich golden lager, it embodies the full quality of a European beer with an alcohol content of 5.2% to 5.5% by volume. The beer is full bodied with soft bitterness and light hoppy aroma to satisfy any discerning drinker”

I say : Light hoppy aroma smells suspiciously like bread dough, rather than hops. Straw-colored with a soapy head. Sweet aftertaste, slightly metallic.

Availability: Everywhere, in draught, bottle, can.

If this beer was an 80s hair metal band that never really went away it would be: Bon Jovi