I was genuinely excited when I first heard about Busch Light Apple. Why? I wish I could tell you. Well, I can. It was the apple. See, I'm a big fan of apples and alcohol that employs them. So, even though I knew it was Busch Light, the apple bit sold me. 

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I found a sixer of pounders at a local bottleshop. The $8 pricetag got me and I snatched some up. I cracked my first can when I'd made it home, drank, and immediately wish I could've gotten a refund.

Like I said, let's get into it.

Busch is a brand that falls under the wider Anheuser-Busch InBev umbrella. I won't go getting into their history here because, frankly, I don't think they deserve it. You don't need to know about AB InBev because everyone knows about them. Your folks drink them. You drink them. Your kids'll drink them. That's all we need to know.

(Also, they're still trying to put the screws to the craft scene. I won't tell you not to drink AB InBev brands because I'm not hypocritical, but you should be an informed consumer and really look into where your money goes and what that money's doing.)

Busch Light Apple has a spot featured near the bottom of Busch's "Our Beers" page. It's billed as what occurs when an orchard's taste meets refreshment's sound? You got me there. It's Busch Light, a 4.1% ABV low calorie American macro lager with what my can boasts as "natural flavors" and, what I presume, fake apple flavoring.

The lager's bouquet smacks of sour apple candy. You know those green apple suckers you can get with caramel in the center? That's what this beer smells like. I deeply enjoy those suckers, but it's wholly unappealing in a beer. Layered along the bottom of the nose is that warm, ricey Busch Light smell that's also not super appealing to me. Purrl gave my can one whiff, so she's pretty much as enamoured as I am with this.

Moving on, the flavor profile isn't much. That candy-like sour apple quality is immediately present on my tongue. In the finish (there's really nothing beyond that immediate apple that sticks around for the full swig and the finish) is that aspartame-like light lager flavor. 

Look, I know my can says there're are natural flavors present, but everything I can identify in here smacks of artificiality. 

Mouthfeel-wise, Busch Light Apple is great. It's crisp and light lager bubbly. Crushable. If it tasted better, this can would house a great lawnmower beer.

Did you ever get an individually wrapped Jolly Rancher while trick-or-treating on Halloween? That's a letdown, right? During a night when everyone else is giving out Reese's Cups, Kit Kats, and Twix (hell, some places even give out full bars and cans of Sprite), it's like the single Jolly Rancher house phones it in. But, still, you unwrap that green apple Jolly Rancher and pop it into your mouth when you get home all the same. 

That whole single Jolly Rancher on Halloween experience is perfectly encapsulated in Busch Light Apple.

I know what AB InBev was going for with this beer. The marketing got me. And, look, before you say I hate AB, let me direct you to my Busch's Signature Copper Lager review, my Wicked Weed Lunatic Blonde review, and my Elysian Night Owl post. I regularly drink and enjoy AB brands. But I don't enjoy Busch Light Apple. If you want to try a pretty good American macro beer take on mixing apple and beer, try a Redd's Apple Ale. Stay away from Busch Light Apple. Don't let the red mountain on the can fool you--the lager it hides is a 2.0/10 affair. Gross.