In the tropical, rum-laden world of Jamaica only one beer prevails- crisp, light and refreshing Red Stripe. Kind of hard to find in the US, Red Stripe is in every corner market on the island nation. (And holy crap if you aren't begging for it by 3pm after a good day of the sun cooking you into something the resembles curried tofu.)
But in the oasis of our resort bar I found another 'beer'. And I use quotations around the word 'beer' because 'beer' is kinda what this drink is like, although 'beer' is usually something I enjoy drinking. (Not something I politely excuse myself from the bar for and discreetly pour into a planter.) It's called "Real Rock" and I'd consider it more of a dare than a drink. When I tasted it all I could think was, "Is the keg skunky?" But upon returning the next day it was still bad. Bad and weird and sour, but oddly fruity...like cider that someone peed in. My boyfriend said, "If you made this in prison, it would be okay."
It's marketed as an "American Lager"...but I drink alot of American lagers and they are nothing like "Real Rock."
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