It's Drinking Week at City of Ate, which means even more stories than usual about our favorite pastime. Check back for more stories about craft beer, killer bartenders and more.
There comes a time in every person's life when you realize you love Miller High Life. When you understand it, when you really know it deep in your bones that you love those squared-off bottles, it's like the breaking of a dam. All those insufferable foodie things you've said in the past -- "I'm really bored by mushrooms" -- wash away in a rush of butterscotch-colored liquid. If beer is one of the greatest inventions of the human race, then Miller High Life is also one of the greatest inventions. Because it's beer.
It somehow tastes like Thanksgiving, with that rich, movie-popcorn-butter color, and like a blazing hot summer. I think there's actually globules of turkey gravy in the bottle. A South Pole-cold Miller High Life, just before the mini glaciers form in the bottle, is incredible with grill-charred, cheesy hamburgers.
When Miller High Life reaches frost temperatures, you can actually taste the sound of sitting on the dock of the bay. I don't why, but I think Miller High Life should be the official beer of ocean hang-gliding and what actors drink when they drink Beer-brand beer in the movies. There's no time or age to High Life. It tastes like Francis Scott Key frantically writing because shit was blowing up. It's 1980s Montana and 2014 Southern California. It tastes like Rust Cohle.
I think it glows at night.
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I think Miller High Life was designed to absorb the refrigerator light, so when you open the fridge door, deep in the evening, the beer glows like a lantern in a cave. It's unnatural tasting, like instant mashed potatoes, but that's why it's delicious.
At Capitol Pub on Henderson, they serve them as cold as Pluto. At Goodfriend, you can get a seven ounce, mini bottle for two dollars. It's the perfect beer appetizer. At the Beer Cave in Lakewood, they run 5.99 a six-pack.
They go great with crispy tacos, too. It's not just American, and it's not just for cheap beach food. It's not just '80s mustaches and koozies and boats clunking on a dock. Miller High Life is good with yellowtail sashimi or boiled, spicy crab. It's good in Canada.
I really love Miller High Life. It's becomes a craving. It's like a good, grilled cheeseburger: Sometimes you just need it straight off the grill with some cheese and mustard. No tastings or glasses, just the Champagne of Beers. Actually, let's not call it the Champagne of Beers. Can we change the slogan? It should be: The Miller High Life of Beers.