Suarez Cabana, Your Own Adolescent Pilsner Shack in the Sun

In 12 angry men the director leverages a low angle to imply dominance, here the viewer is forced to acknowledge the granite

When I was little I was obsessed with forts. I wanted that autonomy of having a place that was my own, even if it meant basically sitting outside in Clovis heat. I would steal materials from construction projects. My husky elementary school frame lugging sheets of plywood, boxes of plaster, the evergreen spool table. A clubhouse has a juvenile sense of being that reconciles youth with adulthood. Baby’s first mortgage.

Suarez masterfully bridges the gap between inexperience and disinterest. Each sip of Cabana pils feels effortless like a sleight of hand magician. It exists both as the first beer you ever had and the final beer you would ever need. It’s like pressing two bookends against one another and closing the lager library.

This has a 4.2 on Untappd, which is the bottom fermented equivalent of winning the Palme D’Or. It isn’t as strictly clean as a german pils should be, and it’s better for it. The light haze has this pillowy grace, like the clean moves of a fencer, gripping a biscuit epee.

My favorite Pils of all time is Reality Czech. BJCPhiles knock that beer for having too much of a floral bite. Cabana leans heavy into key lime, arugula, Cara Cara, with an angsty Tommy Girl finish. The wheaty body of this beer also makes it super approachable to baby palates and jaded stretchmarked bros in stout splattered New Balances.

This beer takes things you already know and clicks the + on PalateMaps. It goes granular on the forgettable. THERE’S MY OLD DAY CARE. The sweet cornbread aspect is like those linguistic shibboleths kids all know. SAVE SOME WATER FOR THE WHALES! Slapping you on the back as you crush these cans. There’s an enduring place for beer that can be present for any occasion, weddings and wakes.

There’s that interlacing of fingers as she tells you that he isn’t just an office friend and you begin calculating how many months are left in your lease. It refreshes in a chilling way. In making the old new, you finally earn your clubhouse, that crushable freedom. Four pieces of plywood stacked against one another in a Fresno field. The Cabana simplicity is amazing and you are want for nothing.

“Too green, I wait eleven days before cracking”

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