The Right Lager for the Right Moment: Mexican Lager
- Umang Nair
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
As I'm writing this, I've got a pint of our Mexican Lager sitting next to me.
One of my favourite parts of brewing a new beer is finally getting to sit down with a pint and think back through all the little decisions that got it into the glass. Every beer has a story, and this one started long before we milled the first bag of malt . It started with a simple idea.
Not another beer launch. Not another themed menu. A proper Mexican festival. For almost two weeks, all our outlets would be celebrating with Mexican-inspired food, tequila-based cocktails, ponchos, sombreros, music, and even a short dance that our teams would perform throughout the day.
Naturally, one question landed on my table.
"What beer are we brewing?"
A Mexican Lager.
Not because it's the loudest beer in the room. Quite the opposite. It's clean, refreshing and uncomplicated. The kind of beer you don't have to analyse. You simply enjoy it. Every beer has a job. Some are meant to challenge you. Some are meant to surprise you. This one was simply meant to make you smile and ask for another pint.
Because sometimes the best beer isn't the one that steals the spotlight. It's the one that quietly makes everything else around it even better.
That became the question behind almost every brewing decision:
Does this make the festival better?
Not, does this make the beer more interesting?
There's a big difference.
Brewing with restraint
Brewers have a terrible habit of always wanting to add one more thing. Another hop addition. Another ingredient. Another layer of flavour. Sometimes, the hardest decision is deciding to stop.
We knew corn had to be part of the recipe. It's one of the ingredients that gives a Mexican Lager its familiar light body and crisp finish. But I didn't want the beer to feel thin, so we settled on around 20% torrefied corn. Enough to do its job without taking over.
The same thing happened with the lemon zest.We could've added more. We nearly did. But that would've changed what this beer was trying to be. Instead, we added just 50 grams during the boil. As the zest hit the kettle, there was this brief burst of fresh citrus that filled the brewhouse. It smelled incredible. For a moment, I was tempted to throw in more.
Then the brewer in me reminded me why we were making this beer in the first place. The citrus wasn't supposed to become the story. It was simply there to lift the lager ever so slightly. Sometimes restraint is harder than experimentation.
The hops followed the same philosophy. Noble hops, a clean lager yeast, bitterness kept lower than a classic Pilsner, and an alcohol level of 4.9%. Nothing in this recipe is trying to shout. Everything is trying to work together.
The final touch comes when the beer reaches your table. Every pint is served with a slice of lime on the glass. It's a small detail, inspired by the familiar way many people enjoy Mexican lagers. Squeeze it into the beer if you like, leave it on the rim if you don't. Either way, it adds to the experience without taking away from what the beer is meant to be.
The funny thing about simple beers
People often look at lagers and think they're easy beers to brew. I'd argue they're some of the hardest. A big IPA can hide little imperfections behind bold hops. Dark beers have roasted malts that add complexity. But a clean lager has nowhere to hide. Every fermentation decision matters. Every degree matters. Every tiny flavour matters.
Standing beside the tank after fermentation and pulling that first sample is still one of my favourite moments as a brewer. You've spent weeks imagining what the beer is going to taste like. Running recipes through your head. Wondering if you should've changed something. Wondering if you should've left something out.
Then comes that first pour. This one immediately made me smile. The first thing I noticed was just the faintest hint of citrus on the nose. Not enough for someone to say, "This is a citrus beer," but enough to know the lemon zest had done its job.
Then came the finish. Crisp, clean and refreshing. I even picked up the slightest touch of sweet corn when tasting it straight from the tank. Interestingly, that little note disappeared once the beer had conditioned and was poured on tap, leaving exactly the balance I was hoping for.
Those are small things that most people probably won't notice. Brewers notice them.
A Mexican Lager style with a story
Mexican Lager itself has an interesting history. European brewing traditions eventually met local ingredients like corn, creating beers that were light, crisp and incredibly drinkable. Over time, they've become almost synonymous with sunshine, beaches, celebrations and long afternoons with friends. That's the feeling I wanted to borrow. Not just the recipe. The mood.
Built for the table
When I think about this beer, I don't picture someone studying the aroma for ten minutes.
I picture a table full of food, friends reaching across each other's plates, music in the background, and someone ordering another round without even asking what everyone wants because they already know the answer.
If I had to pair it with two dishes from the festival, I'd choose the Jalapeño Chicken Tostadas and the Tequila Chicken Wings at BLR Brewing Co. Both have enough spice that the crisp finish of the lager simply resets your palate and gets you ready for the next bite. That's exactly what I hoped this beer would do.
The pint in front of me
As I'm writing this, I've looked down a couple of times and realised I've been absent-mindedly taking sips between paragraphs. I didn't plan that. Which is probably the best compliment I can give this beer. It isn't demanding my attention. It's simply doing what I hoped it would do from day one. Being easy to enjoy.
Brewers aren't very good at giving themselves compliments. Ask any brewer if they're completely happy with a beer and they'll usually pause. There's always something we'd tweak. A different fermentation temperature. A little more aroma. A little less bitterness. Another day of conditioning.
Sitting here with this pint, I honestly surprised myself. If I brewed this beer again tomorrow, I wouldn't change the recipe. I'd probably just give it another little bit of time to brighten in the tank. That's about it.
If people leave the festival remembering the conversations they had, the music they danced to, the food they shared, and somewhere in that memory there's a crisp Mexican Lager in their hand, then I think we've done exactly what we set out to do. Sometimes beer isn't the main event.
Sometimes it's what makes the main event unforgettable.
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