In their recent Super Bowl ad blitz, Budweiser proclaimed, “Man has long dreamed of turning lead into gold. We dreamed of turning gold into platinum.”
In one fell swoop, Bud announced a new beer and revealed that it looks up to Rumpelstiltskin.
Bud Light Platinum debuted on shelves and in bars two weeks ago. It boasts higher alcohol content than Bud Light, a sleek, blue glass bottle and the enticing allure of novelty. As someone who would list “beer,” “the color blue” and “new things” as interests in a figurative Match.com profile, I was immediately intrigued.
So a few nights ago, I grabbed a six-pack of Platinum and one of Bud Light to determine whether this beer is all that Budweiser says it is. You know, for science and stuff.
Here are the results of that night:
With a pretty good idea of how the night would end up, I decided to crunch numbers early.
Platinum weighs in with 6.0 percent alcohol by volume, putting it closer to malt liquors (popular brands Olde English 800 and Mickey’s contain 5.9 percent and 5.6 percent, respectively) than its namesake Bud Light (4.2 percent).
Because counting calories is a rational thing to be doing while you’re drinking, it should be noted that a bottle of Platinum contains 137, 27 more than Bud Light’s 110. But, with a bit of deductive reasoning, one can figure out that Platinum packs more booze into each calorie: the newer beer contains 22.83 calories per percent ABV, while Bud Light has 26.19. This method also shows that regular Budweiser (150 calories, 5.0 percent ABV), at 30 calories per percent ABV, is for fatties only.
Given the ABV similarity to a malt liquor, Platinum’s blue bottle is a lot sharper than a brown paper bag.
Having not had Bud Light in a little while, I found the first few sips of Platinum to be very similar to what I remembered Light to be. They have a similar taste profile, and the two beers are equally light — Platinum not nearly as heavy as I was expecting it to be given its alcohol content. Platinum has a different aftertaste, something slightly off.
When I compared the two beers directly, it was clear that Platinum was sweeter than Light; not overly so, but there was a noticeable difference. I’m not a fan of this aftertaste; it reminds me too much of college-age trial and error with 40s.
Platinum will never bowl a beer snob away, but the beer wasn’t unpleasant. In my notes, I typed: “Adt a bar, if PAltnium morea expensive, no. SAme price, maybe.” Translation: I’d buy it at a bar if the price was right. I certainly wouldn’t seek it out.
If Bud Light Platinum’s goal is to sneak up on people via light taste and more alcohol, it will take care of that in no time. After drinking only a few, not feeling full at all, I made notes to include both “***AMPRESANDS” and “You ever feel bad for those little chips who will never get to experience the feeling of getting dipped due to their larrger neighbors?” in this column.
Platinum’s an OK beer. It will get a lot of people drunk (and curl more than a few unsuspecting binge drinkers around a toilet). It’s being marketed to a young, hip crowd looking for a slick light beer to drink at the club — and they are going to LOVE it. I can see Platinum getting bought up as Budweiser counts the gold it spun from hops and wheat.
A lot like Rumpelstiltskin.
If a film critic orders a Bud Light Platinum on Tuesday, does that drink then become a Blue Valentine?