The Big Chill
Heard the one about the Cape May magazine editor who spent his lunchtime sticking a thermometer into pints of beer? No, this is not the start of a cautionary tale about day drinking. Although, if we’re being honest, it is not entirely unrelated to day drinking. This was science. Okay, science-adjacent. The mission was simple: visit four bars, order a beer, measure the temperature (for five seconds), and determine who serves the coldest pint in Cape May. This is the sort of investigative journalism that Woodward and Bernstein might have pursued had Deep Throat whispered, “Follow the lager.”
The competitors were: Rusty Nail, Ugly Mug, Lucky Bones and the Mad Batter.
Our first visit was to Lucky Bones, which is celebrating its 20th anniversary — happy birthday guys (and where did the time go?!). Operations director Erik Delinski poured a Sandy Bones (no relation) wheat beer from Ludlum Island Brewery of Woodbine. It’s one of 32 (count ’em!) beers on tap at Lucky Bones.
As my colleague Kayla Jordan started to video the operation, I got stage fright and waited a little too long before plonking the thermometer in the glass, something which wasn’t lost on Lucky Bones owner David Craig, who appeared out of nowhere at my shoulder and yelled, “Stick it in!” Clearly, David was worried the beer temperature would creep up a little if I delayed too long. So, I decided on a do-over. On the second testing, the temperature of the Sandy Bones was 37F.
Next up was the Rusty Nail, which has brought back its iconic beer mugs, which fell by the wayside during COVID. Those mugs are stored in a freezer, which explains what happened next. When bartender Corey Bailey poured a Kona Big Wave, the temperature was 36F, but that wasn’t the end of it. As I held the thermometer for five seconds, it went down to 34F.
But... that wasn’t the end of it! As I looked at the glass, there appeared to be a tiny iceberg floating in the pint. I stuck the thermometer in again and it plunged to 31F. That is colder than the freezing point of water.
Next, we headed back into town, parked the car and strolled over to the Mad Batter, which is celebrating its 50th anniversary (happy birthday, guys!), and which has 15 drafts on tap. Bartender Steve Wolf poured us an Allagash White (I’m not a beer drinker, but on the rare occasion I indulge, this zesty, orange-coriander combo is one of my favorites). The temperature came in at 39F.
Last on the list was the Ugly Mug, which has 13 beers on tap. Bartender Emily Richardson poured us an American classic, Miller Lite, which registered at 35F. In a regular pint glass. No frozen glass. No cryogenic skullduggery. No Elsa-from-Frozen business.
So, without further adieu, let’s crunch the numbers and hand out the trophies...
The Rusty Nail won the Coldest Beer as Presented to the Customer category.
The Ugly Mug won the Coldest Beer Without Freezer-Assisted Glass-Based Chicanery category.
Lucky Bones came in third at 37 degrees, which is still a very cold pint.
The Mad Batter followed at 39, which is still a very respectable beer-serving temperature (and bang in the middle of the sweet spot, according to purists).
Nobody served us a beer at 57 degrees and called it “European,” which is what certain places might do when their cooler is broken and they have decided to become philosophical about it.
Congratulations to the Nail, which was claiming, back in the 1960s, that it had “The Coldest Mugs in Town.” That seems to still be the case. But also... should they be disqualified? If this were the Olympics, the Ugly Mug might file a protest. The Rusty Nail did not merely serve a beer — it introduced the beer to a frozen environment and let thermodynamics do the rest.
On the other hand, the rules were never written down. This is mostly because there were no rules. When you stage a beer-temperature contest in Cape May, you are not exactly operating under the supervision of the International Olympic Committee, though given recent Olympic controversies, I’m not sure that would improve matters.
But bragging rights aside, what temperature should beer be served at?
That depends on who you ask, and it also very much depends on the beer. Brewing experts will tell you there is no single correct temperature. Light American lagers can be served very cold, in the mid-30s to around 40. Pilsners and pale lagers do well a little warmer. IPAs, pale ales, stouts and porters generally reveal more flavor as they climb into the 40s and even low 50s.
Cold suppresses aroma. It tightens everything up. It makes beer refreshing, but it can also make beer taste thinner and less expressive (though, let’s be honest, that isn’t a problem if you’re drinking Bud, Coors or Miller). Too warm, and the beer can taste flabby, sweet or flat.
I grew up in Scotland and hit legal drinking age in the 80s, when most beer was served in a range that ran from kinda cold(ish) to room temperature. But that’s not necessarily tragic. The UK-based Campaign for Real Ale has long advocated for proper serving of dark ales and porters to allow the complex, roasted malt and chocolate flavors of, say, a porter to be fully experienced, rather than masked by excessive chilling. So, if you want the best from your chocolate stout, it should be in the 52-55F range. However, I very much doubt there is a bar in Cape May that’s serving stouts and porters at those temperatures.
In short, the proper beer-snob answer is: don’t serve every beer ice-cold. But here is the problem with the proper answer: Cape May in midsummer.
There are moments when you are coming off the beach, hair sculpted by saltwater and sand, shoulders evolving from medium rare to well done, when the air feels like it has been soaked in chowder, and someone puts a beer in front of you so cold it makes your fingerprints throb. In that moment, you are not seeking notes of biscuit malt, noble hops, grapefruit peel or roasted barley. You are seeking rescue.
There is an entire category of beer whose highest calling is to be cold. Very cold. Obscenely cold. Cold enough that the glass sweats like it has just read its property-tax bill. Cold enough that the first sip causes a tiny spiritual reset. In Manila, there’s even a thing called Beer Below Zero, a Filipino-invented technology that chills beer to as low as 10F.
They call it the coldest beer ever. I call it a lawsuit waiting to happen if you hand one to a man in flip-flops who has just eaten a large platter of ribs with extra-salty barbecue sauce.
So let’s agree that beer at 10F is silly and gimmicky. And let’s agree on something else... on a hot Cape May day, with the beach still stuck to your ankles, when someone asks what your favorite beer is, your answer is, “The first one.”
Bartenders Steve Wolf and Miranda Roemhild at the Mad Batter... temperature of 39.
Bartender Suzy Jones and operations director Erik Delinski at Lucky Bones... temperature of 37.
Bartenders Emily Richardson and Marco Quiroz at the Ugly Mug... temperature of 35.
Bartender Corey Bailey and bar manager James Finnegan at the Rusty Nail... temperature of 31.
