What the Bock?

“He does what with his urine?”
“What do you mean he drinks it?”
“What do you mean he drinks it for his health?”
“Uro…what?”

The conversation above took place between my wife and I a few months ago. She is developing an interest in alternative health and while not at the urine drinking stage just yet, she does come into contact with some pretty interesting people.



She had gone to the subject of the conversation above for a massage and “one thing led to another” (as she innocently puts it) and suddenly they were talking about Uropathy.  I love that it has a name and a Wikipedia page (written I imagine by castaways and pirates).

And so it was that this anecdote was filed safely to the back of my mind where it would remain until called upon to fill uncomfortable silences. That was until I tasted Quilmes Bock. Suddenly the little man that organizes my equally little brain was retrieving the Uropathy file and bringing it to the section where conscious thought takes place.

“Ah yes Uropathy,” I thought as the Bock made it’s way past my ungrateful taste buds. Actually, Uropathy (I just love saying the word) involves drinking your own urine; I on the other hand was obviously drinking someone else’s.  The “Brewmaster’s” perhaps? Even Uropathien’s turn their nose up on this sort of behaviour.

“Hear about that man Fred, you know the one that drinks other people’s urine”
“I know Rog, what is this world coming to…need a hand with your fly?”

While I will admit that Quilmes Bock may not be the excretions of the Brewmaster, it is barely a beer and only just a Bock. Bock beer is famed for a barley-malt sweetness that cleverly hides the formidable 6-7% alcohol content.  A moderate level of bitterness provides balance and months of ageing produce a beer that is smooth and full-bodied.

The Quilmes on the other hand is lightweight in every respect. The hallmark caramel, bready flavours are there but only just. Rather than being proudly paraded around the palate, like a pedigree at a Best in Show competition, the flavours make an all too brief appearance before ingloriously exiting down the throat.  The bitterness never reaches any great heights so the balance of the beer is lost, leaving you feeling underwhelmed and disappointed.

In the end the Quilmes Bock feels like it is a slightly maltier, slightly stronger version of Quilmes Crystal, the Brewery’s flagship lager, and for that it is a slightly more interesting beer. And that, not the uropathiens of the world, is the real embarrassment here.