Hello and welcome. As nearly everyone who has viewed this article recently arrived via Google using the search “how many calories in Molson 67” (or something along those lines), here’s the answer. 67. As in, there are 67 calories per bottle. Please feel free to continue reading this post, or one of my many others, but I won’t be offended if you take that news and leave. Enjoy.
Okay. What’s the deal with drinking a beer that has basically no flavour, for the sake of no calories? I guess if you want to get hammered regularly, and also don’t want to be fat it’s not a bad option. And you also need a healthy disregard for your own health, as there is likely some pretty gnarly chemicals in there.
Sigh
I constantly find myself lamenting the very poor quality of beer consumed by most of my countrymen. I had gotten to a place where I was sort of okay with it, understanding that these people are drinking what they like, they just don’t like beer. But I am now starting to question that. I believe that many of them might just enjoy a decent lager, maybe even a tasty ale. But I’m getting off track, I was here to review a truly spectacular accomplishment.
The good folks at Molson’s have successfully produced a beer that is only 67 calories per 341ml bottle. This is a wonderful feat, when you consider one of the main calorie contributors is also one of the main flavour contributors. I am uncertain exactly how they pull this off, but I can speculate, after my review:
This beer pours from the bottle a fairly pale yellow, crystal clear. There is a good carbonation, though nearly no head. The aroma has some hints of grain, which surprised me, though it had to work it’s way through a noticable wet-cardboard aroma.
Strangely, the flavour was nearly nothing. My exact notes say “it reminds me of soda water with a splash of tonic”. The grain taste is gone, and the wet cardboard is lessened, but now there is a hint of something that might be hops. Or tonic. I believe this beer displays what macrobrewers call a “dry” finish. Not a hoppy-dry, nor a cocoa-dry finish, just not-wet dry. And I can’t really quantify this, but for some reason my tongue feels like I’ve been eating American chocolate. Sort of waxy-coated. Mouthfeel is thin to say the least. Remember the soda water comment? The overall drinkability is, I guess, very drinkable, save for the tongue thing. That isn’t to say I would drink much of it. Or any more. Except I still have a second bottle.
So for this one I added a 2oz shot of Havana Club dark rum. Here’s the weird thing: the beer sucked up the taste. There was some hints of rum in the flavour, but not much. Very very strange. The good news is, I can still see and feel and touch and love, so it wasn’t too bad.
So here is my theory on how they managed to produce a tasty beer that is only 67 calories per bottle:
They didn’t. It doesn’t taste particularly bad, it just doesn’t taste.
Should you buy this beer? Yes, if you want to drink something that will eventually make you drunk, doesn’t have many calories or flavour, and might shorten your life. Will I ever buy this beer again? Absolutely not. I wouldn’t accept them for free. If somebody offered me money to take them off their hands, I would, but I would just pour them out. And they would have to give me at least a fiver.
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