So, goatsucker. Really. That’s what “Chupacabras” literally means. Chupar is “to suck”, and cabra is “goat”. Strange name for a beer, you might think.
Wait; it gets stranger. The Chupacabra is a piece of South American cryptozoology, like an Australian Bunyip, or a North American Bigfoot. But unlike those, this one doesn’t have the ‘virtue’ of being old-timey nonsense; these are a pretty recent popular delusion — quite-possibly wholly derived from the awesomely-awful movie Species, which the original ‘eyewitness’ apparently thought depicted real events taking place in Peurto Rico.
But anyway, the beer. I write about beer, right? Well, first things first, it doesn’t suck (at least, not goats). It’s billed as American Pale Ale, but isn’t a typical one, if it’s one at all. The colour tends to the reddish end, there’s not a whole lot of aroma going on, and the fruity flavours are in the sweeter modes than the usual bitter-citrussy ones. Style aside, though, those factors combine into something not inherently bad and the bigger body does bury some of the familiar Cucapá metal flavour.
Verbatim: Cucapa ‘Chupacabras’ APA 18/9/10 5.8% 355ml $4 from Reg. Very reddish ruddy amber. Attractive, but atypical for style, I’d have thought. Not massively aromatic, and with quite a nice big rounded sweet fruity middle bit. Apricotty, perhaps. Very much like something I’ve had, but I’m struggling to recall. Amelia says there’s a not-in-a-bad-way burnt grass aspect; as if she were a really classy cow. How strange. Hints of the metal, but more buried.