Landshark Lager

This time I gotta disagree strenuously with those super-snobs over at Beer Advocate and RateBeer. Their gang of self-styled brew experts dismiss Jacksonville's Landshark Lager with abysmally low ratings, mainly because it "lacks complexity".

This is rather like an overbearing cheese "expert" saying that no one should ever eat swiss cheese because it's blander than Gorgonzola.

Beers are tools, essentially, and one must apply the proper tool for the proper job. I certainly wouldn't order Landshark at a five-star restaurant to accompany my Lobster Newburg (not that they'd even be carrying it anyhow), but hey, I wouldn't order a Coke either, and that doesn't mean that Landshark or Coke sucks. Landshark's place on the beer scale is just where it's supposed to be: a simple, unpretentious gullet-washing bev'age with no aftertaste yet not as soulless as a "dry" beer. Perfect for outdoor activities, like hanging out on the beach, as the whole oceanic packaging makes obvious.

Though my primary go-to beers are IPAs and Belgians, I enjoy this stuff immensely, especially with a lime slice and accompanying spicy foods and cigars. I can drink a whole 6 of these and not feel like I'm about to turn into a loaf of bread rising in the sun, which is more than I can say for a lot of chewy brews that the beer intelligentsia assure us are superior.

I guess you might have to be part Floridian to get it. When in Kentucky, I enjoyed Landshark on many a dreary day wishing I was back in Florida, and a sip of the shark transported me here, to baby powder beaches and nautical nightlife.