Kronenbourg 1664 Rosé

Let me get this off my chest straight away: I used to be rather fond of Kronenbourg 1664. Back in the 1990s, it was the premium brother of the more mass-market Kronenbourg, 6.3% alcohol, full of malt and hops, and a commendable quaffer as one took the TGV south following an overnight flight from Toronto to Paris. In style, it was arguably closer to a Märzen than anything else, although it wasn’t quite of that ilk, either.

Sometime in the early twenty-first century, however, or perhaps late the previous decade, ‘Kronenbourg’ became ‘Kro’ in France and vanished entirely from Canada, replaced by a 1664 that bore scant resemblance to the version described above. (I always suspected that they simply renamed the old Kronenbourg beer for export, but of course have never had the opportunity to prove it.) The alcohol was dropped to anywhere between 4.2% and 5.5%, depending upon the country, and the body was thinned considerably, to the point of near irrelevance.

Then arrived Kronenbourg 1664 Blanc.

A riff on a Belgian style wheat beer, it contains such ingredients as glucose syrup, aromatic caramel, and ‘aromas,’ in addition to the expected barley malt, wheat, coriander, and orange peel. While I’ve never been much of a fan, it does seem to sell reasonably well, or at least well enough that it has been joined in Canada by a new stable-mate, Kronenbourg 1664 Rosé.

Debuting in Ontario just prior to the LCBO strike, the launch of Rosé must rate an entry in the hall of great moments in bad timing. There was sufficient time for the p.r. company representing the brand to get me a few sample bottles, though, so onward with my review of this new and somewhat cloudy pink beer.

Billed in its press release email as a “blend of two beloved and sophisticated Canadian libations: premium wheat beer and a glass of rosé,” (huh?) Rosé is described on its label as a “naturally and artificially flavoured wheat beer with a hint of berry.” Digging a bit further, its website reveals that it contains (deep breath), “water, barley malt, wheat, sugar, glucose syrup, flavouring, elderberry juice from concentrate (0,5%), raspberry juice from concentrate (0,1%), acidity regulator: citric acid, hop extract, stabiliser: acacia gum (E414), spices: orange peel, coriander.” Which, let’s face it, seems like a lot for a fairly simple-sounding wheat beer.

In the glass, it’s a sandy pink with a thin but sustaining foam. On the nose, despite being stored cold within an hour or two of delivery, it has a whiff of skunkiness – which thankfully blows off fairly quickly – and fruity notes that seem to sit somewhere between raspberry and strawberry – the strawberry aspect I suspect arising from the combined impact of the raspberry, elderberry, and orange peel. Although most definitely perfumey, it does have a slight sense of artificiality to its aroma, but not so much that I expect it would dissuade anyone inclined to buy it in the first place.

On the palate, it is pretty straight-forward, with sweet, sparkling berry notes up front, a still very sugary and faintly spicy mid-palate that I think shows a hint of coriander behind all the fruitiness, and a lingering berry finish that remains, you guessed it, very sweet. Not being a fan of oversweet sodas, which to me this resembles far more than it does any beer, I remain unimpressed.

Interestingly, a little digging in the Kronenbourg website reveals the nutrition data on the beer, and if you’re someone watching their sugar and/or carb intake, the news is, ahem, somewhat sobering. A single 330 ml bottle of 1664 Rosé contains 142 calories*, 13.2 grams of carbs, and 5.61 grams of sugar, making it hardly a beer geared towards a society we are told is striving to eat and drink more healthily.

To be fair, however, we all make or personal food and drink choices, were this a slice of a really good chocolate cake, I might be able to convince myself to accept the almost 600 calories in the name of deliciousness. But alas, 1664 Rosé is a frankly bog standard fruit beer that has too much sugar, not nearly enough beer character, precious little complexity, and for me, far, far too many calories.

*Not the almost 600 calories originally reported here. Thanks to the sharp-eyed and more scientifically savvy reader who caught that the Kronenbourg website accidentally mixes up the numbers for Kilojoules and calories.

58 ($11/4 x 355 ml cans)