Kegerators.com just introduced a pretty interesting way to shop for a kegerator based on the specific kind of degenerate you are.  I like this.  Now if they would just consider sending me one or giving me a fat discount on one, I could write a detailed review… 

There’s an initiative in the works right now that needs 400,000 more signatures to get on the November ballot.  If it gets on the ballot and passes, it would increase the tax on a bottle of wine by 12,675% — from 4¢ per bottle to $5.11. Beer too. That means $5 more per 6-pack. Really.

Unless all you want to choose from are a few big wineries and breweries who can afford this tax, this initiative cannot pass.

Read this article:  http://www.gilroydispatch.com/news/264468-updated-5-tax-on-bottle-of-wine

Raise hell.  Hurl insults at anyone who tries to get you to sign this measure.

Root |root|:
1.
verb, Australian origin; recreational procreation, with all the “pro”s and no “creation” (if things go as planned).
See Also: horizontal mambo, shag, beast with two backs.
Uses: “Rootin’ in the Back of the Ute” (Kevin Bloody Wilson.  Translated: “Fucking in the Back of the Truck”), or “Oy, youse wanna go ‘ave a root before the old lady gets home?”

2.
noun, Santa Cruz origin; Gabe Potkowski’s nickname.

I was first introduced to the slang form of the word “Root” in high school, when we slapped an astonishingly stupid Pollock friend of ours with that same nickname.  This because he was convinced to purchase some shaggy-looking pubic hair mixed with sawdust from a local rastafarian, with the promise that it was “Ganja root, mon– it get you mighty irie.”  Needless to say, it didn’t.  But the name stuck.

Years later, I was reintroduced to the verb form of the word by a diminutive Aussie girl with a missing front tooth inside “The Party” club in Surfer’s Paradise, when she shouted at me over the roar of a Pearl Jam tune “Oy Seppo, youse wanna go down the beach and ‘ave a root?”  The subsequent reflection about my dumb Pollock friend caused me to miss a beat or two before busting a gut laughing, which she didn’t take so well.  Needless to say, we didn’t.  But two of my less-discriminating Aussie buddies were happy to oblige.

Then, after a good 15 years of forgetting about the alternate forms of the word, I got an email from someone at Art in the Age, asking me if I would like to try a bottle of ROOT, a brand new 100% organic American cane liqueur.  I have to admit, I was skeptical; though I instantly admired their sense of humor:  the unspoken subtext of the name meaning to me that you drink some ROOT with your date and then drop trou and root your way to kingdom cum.  In my mind, with the marketing muscle they’ve thrown at this product, there’s no way in hell no one had thought of this lovely double entendre.  So I immediately liked them, as a company.

In the last couple of years, we’ve received some pretty weird shit in the mail.  Some of it has been reviewed here, and some not (it’s the “can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything” approach).  It has been a long time since someone sent us something really good.  I’m happy to report that the long dry spell has now officially ended.  ROOT is awesome.

ROOT is a natural spirit made from the same stuff you use to make root beer, which started out as “root tea”, a native American fermented beverage made from spices and cane.  Years later, some puritanical dumbass found a way to strip the alcohol out of it, which resulted in what we now know as Sasparilla, Birch Beer or Root Beer.  Funny… when it was called “tea” it got you loaded, but when it was called “beer” it got you fat.

Then along came Art in the Age, an artist’s collective out of Philadelphia, PA.  They revived the old recipe and distilled it into a truly unique sipping spirit.

This stuff is made of sugar cane, cloves, cinnamon, orange peel, cardamom, lemon, nutmeg, birch bark, spearmint, wintergreen, allspice and smoked black tea.  Basically, it’s 80 proof Indian Chai with a kick.  I like it in a Riedel tequila glass with a single ice cube, where it smells almost exactly like root beer.  The taste is akin to an aged spiced rum, without the cloying sweetness.  It finishes amazingly clean, leaving a super pleasant spicy tingle that reminds me of the last time I sat butt naked on a pile of goose down while sipping mocha chai.

I’ll save the goose down story for another review.

You might think that this is just another gimmicky mixer that’ll make a splash for awhile with the 18-year-olds in Ensenada for spring break.  Wrong.  This is a sipping spirit of the highest caliber that happens to also make a really fucking good root beer float.

Let me reiterate:  it makes a really fucking good root beer float.  Talk about a party in a glass– one 16oz ROOT float on a hot day and you’re almost required to be bare-assed on the slip-and-slide.

I like this stuff a lot.  In fact, it’s going to be my new drink of choice for awhile.  I’m actually quite pissed off that I asked them to send the larger sample down to the San Diego contingent, who have yet to weigh in on this review.  Hopefully we’ll hear from them soon.  Chances are, they’re too busy with the slip-and-slide.

So this reviewer is giving ROOT a solid 100 point score, with another 10 added on for being totally organic, and 5 more to be added if I actually get to root my wife tonight.

Cheers!

PS, apparently this stuff is so new that you may not see it in your local liquor store.  You can get some online here:  http://www.hitimewine.net/istar.asp?a=29

Had a long night last night at a bar that boasts 88 different kinds of tequila, which precipitated the following:

When you ask for the bar tab and it’s so long that the bartender has to roll it around a toilet paper roll, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When the bartender looks at the tab, does a double take and says “wow, you drank all that?”, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When the idea of fighting the bouncer looks like a fun challenge, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When some jackass on coke decides you’re his best friend and spends a half hour telling you how much money he makes, and you don’t knock him off his stool because you can’t tell which double-vision version of him to hit, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When you have to close one eye so you can see your wife on the stool next to you, you’ve been drinking to much tequila.

When you don’t notice she’s not your wife, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

If she ends up being a he, you’ve definitely been drinking too much tequila.

When your wife throws up in your office parking lot and you wash it away with your own piss and call it good, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

If you pissed on your boss’ tire in the process and washed that off with more piss, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When you wake up on your office couch and lock yourself out of the office while puking in the bathroom, forcing you to have to either sleep in the hall or walk 3 miles home, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When you don’t notice that the door’s not actually locked– you just can’t turn the knob — and still walk home, you’ve had too much tequila.

When the sidewalk repeatedly slaps you in the forehead on said walk home, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

When there’s a turd in your undies and you’re not sure whose it is, you’ve been drinking too much tequila.

OK, look: unlike the San Diego contingent, I am not a beer snob. If the weather’s warm, the beer’s piss-colored or darker and cold, and I’m thirsty, I’ll drink it and probably like it. It’s cold, it’s somewhat refreshing and it tastes great when you’ve been out angling for Halibut all day with nothing else to do but talk about strippers with the other guy on the boat. Look, I’m a guy who once split a flask of Jack Daniels’, 3 homebrews, a 12-er or Bud, a joint and another 30-pack of Bud with 2 other people while at-sea on my canoe, then stopped at the gas dock (in a canoe with no motor, go figure) so I could get another 12-er for the long half-mile trek through the harbor.

Tonight it was 90º in my house and I came home, cracked a cold Pacifico, dropped a lime in it, and it tasted as good as Dom Perignon licked off a freshly-bathed woman’s breasts.

It’s all about what you like.

So please bear with me in the following rant against, primarily, Miller.

Their latest ad campaign states proudly “did you ever think about the way it’s triple hops brewed?”, and “does the fact that we add hops at 3 different times during the brewing, instead of all at once ever cross your mind?”.

OK, let’s just transpose that one over another industry, for a second:

“When you eat a Supermegafatty Burger from Bust Yer Gut’s, did you ever stop to think that we went through the trouble of making sure the cow was dead before you ate it? We did. We made absolutely sure that fucking cow was dead before we put it between your buns. We even licked it to double check. That’s how much we care about dead cows.”

Now let’s apply that same logic to beer making:

“When you drink Urinification Ale, did you know that we make it almost entirely out of barley, hops and yeast? We do. We even heat up the stuff first, to make sure it’s purified. That’s exactly how much we know about brewing. Shit, we even wash out the fermentor for you. ”

Let’s back up here a second. Beer 101: you put hops in at different times. You just do. No matter what. You put in bittering hops early in the boil. They basically cook in there and add bitterness to the beer. Then you put in some flavoring hops later in the boil. Boiling them for less time adds another layer of flavor to the beer, and some aroma. Then you add aroma hops. Those make it smell good– they cut what’s left of the sugar smell and, hopefully, leave you with a fresh-smelling tasty adult beverage. Sometimes you even add hops after the main fermentation– dry hops — that give it an extra, aromatic, kick. I learned this when I was 18 years old.

So Miller is, essentially, telling you “we make beer according to the instructions. We’ve done absolutely nothing interesting or different to our beer, which is why you’ll like it, because we’ve pretty much determined that you, our customers, are made up of uneducated middle America and you just don’t give a fuck about much. Yes, we think that little of you. So drink up and dull those wits even more, because no matter what, we’re gonna be easy and you can always pan handle enough dough to get yourselves a 40 of our schwag.”

Chew on that a minute.

Granted: not everyone knows how beer is made. I get that. But fuck, am I the only one who is bothered by the fact that they would take something so totally ordinary and then mount a multi-million dollar ad campaign around it??

Don’t get me wrong– for years beer ads have been the source of endless entertainment for all of us. We all look forward to the super bowl beer ads. Funny thing is: none of them are ever about the beer. And I don’t mind. Because Miller, Bud, Coors aren’t really about the craft of beer making either– they make a beverage that goes well with BBQ, beach, football, baseball, breakfast, gambling all-nighters, college parties, high school parties, and fishing. They make a social stimulant that cools you down while you’re sitting on a hot San Diego beach and also fits in when you’re rolling out of a Vegas titty bar at sunrise with a half-full bottle in your hand and a cigar stub clamped between your teeth. And they make it light and refreshing so you can drink a shitload of it while trying not to burn down the backyard with lighter fluid while BBQing.  Domestic beer is the gas in my paddle-powered canoe’s engine.  My beef here is that Miller has just tried to assert themselves as “a real brewery” by giving the public a lesson in beer 101, assuming we’ll all say “oh, wow, they really know how to make the stuff. I mean gosh durnit, they actually put them hops thangs in it.”

It’s “Mission Accomplished” with that Jedi mindtrick finger wag all over again, accompanied by the arrogant certainty that that the inebriated masses will say “that’s fucking cool!” and take the bait, hook, line and sinker.

No, this is not a Star Wars spoof. But I’m guessing the good vs. evil theme will figure prominently. Beer Wars is a documentary that will only be shown in theaters across the country on April 16. Directly after its screening, a live half-hour discussion with various beer experts and moderator, Ben Stein, will take place. If you like craft beer and have ever wondered how hard it is for the little upstart brewery to carve out a niche in the face of the evil BMC (Bud-Miller-Coors) Galactic Empire, then this may be the documentary for you. For more info, go here.

From the provided informative FrostShot literature:

FrostShot is an innovative alternative to traditional alcohol-based beverages. In the past…freezing alcohol had been deemed impossible; but we’ve achieved perfection. FrostShot is a frozen alcoholic shot conveniently packaged inn aluminum sleeves for portability and ease of use. FrostShot is the first of its kind. So grab a FrostShot and get your party started!!

Commandment Five of the Ten Commandments of BoozeReviewing states “Thou shall not publicly claim “I am too old for this shit” when the research aspect of the job bites back.” Well, since only seven of the ten commandments have even been written, I will risk eternal damnation: I am too old to drink adult Otter Pops. I tried, I really tried. After a whirlwind “research” outing with Jesse the Hutt, BJR, and SOB Steve, I went to the freezer and foisted one of each of the five flavors on the group.

The most interesting comment in response to FrostShots was from JTH who exclaimed, “Makes me want to go to a Tijuana strip joint!” As a whole, the FrostShot lineup provides sweet and astringent alcohol with artificial fruit flavors in a 10% ABV frozen package that might be fun for college aged adults trying to get trashed in a steamy club.  Unfortunately, I think the window of opportunity for my FrostShot tattoo has passed me by.  I also found it strange that there is no indication of the type of alcohol being imbibed when drinking a FrostShot.  I assumed vodka?

Steve,

Wow, I had no idea anyone was even reading our blog.

First off, we are not to be taken seriously. It says so all over our site. Do you know what the most popular search term used to find this site is?  It’s “Beer Farts.”  Really.  I shit you not.  That’s straight out of my Woopra stats report for today.  Today, 3 people queried “Beer farts, types of” at Google and got search results that led them here.  I hope you’re marveling at the fact that someone — 3 people (!)– had that kind of free time on their hands.  The boozereviews.net blog is nothing more than a forum in which a few friends/family who live far apart try to make each other laugh while keeping some semblance of a catalog of wine and beer that we’ve enjoyed. Apparently it’s now been found… which sort of takes the fun out of it.

Pertaining to your blog piece from 2/9/09, I feel I need to make a couple of points here, in rebuttal:

1.
The purpose and subject of my “Why You Shouldn’t Shop at BevMo” blog post at boozereviews.net was not whether or not Gary Farrell makes good Pinot.  You’ve taken me entirely out of context.  It was also not about whether Gary Farrell is a big or small winery.  I used the reference to GF wine to illustrate a very simple fact:  I had previously thought the winery was still a small boutique operation, so when I saw Gary Farrell wine at BevMo I was pleasantly surprised, thinking maybe they were sourcing some harder-to-find product like the knowledgeable owner of a small bottle shop might.  As you know, the winery is now part of a larger unit (I mistakenly used the word “conglomerate, which has a negative connotation, sorry.  I retract that)– which makes it less surprising that BevMo carries the brand.  BevMo buys in large quantities from distributors, so needs to source from larger-producers in order to meet demand for all their stores in a given region.  That’s all.  My post was a short one and probably didn’t do a good enough job of making that point as obvious as it needed to be.  But I do not assume that smaller=better; if you read on here, you will see that.  Invoking Gary Farrell was an aside in a larger story about…

2.
The benefits of supporting locally-owned businesses, when it pertains to the buying of alcohol.  Period.  You make the statement that BevMo is a local business if it opens in your hometown, whether or not it’s locally-owned.  That is the only flat-out wrong statement in both our posts.  Yes, a chain store will create jobs in your town– minimum wage jobs or close.  Yes, it will add some sales tax revenue to city coffers.  But the real money goes back to the corporate HQ.  Do your homework before you accuse me of not doing mine: one very prominent study shows that out of every $100 spent at a locally-owned business, $45 stays in the community.  That same $100 spent in a chain store leaves $13 circulating in the community (2002 Austin study by Civic Economics).  There are many other studies on this subject with similar numbers.  Illustrating this situation was the purpose of my original post.

3.
For the record– despite the fact that it’s irrelevant in the context of my original post–  I absolutely love Gary Farrell wines.  I visited the winery recently and purchased a fair quantity of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir.  Excellent stuff.  I do not pretend that small production = high quality or that large production = low quality.  I only maintain that one has a better chance of finding rare items (and having fun doing it) when able to communicate directly with a concerned bottle shop owner, or when purchasing direct from the maker (when possible).  Have I shopped at BevMo?  Yes, online.  Will I do so again?  Yes, but not without trying to source the product from a locally-owned business or direct from the winemaker first.

4.
Despite all of this, I’ve removed my original post because it’s really not in the spirit of my website.  It’s too negative.  You’re attacking a guy who has a site dedicated to reviews, but has promised in several posts not to write another negative review unless the product is just a blatant rip-off:  an “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” kind of review site.  When it comes to wine (I rarely do beer reviews here), I only review wines that I find interesting and can say positive (if crude and altogether useless) things about.  Wrap your brain around that for a second.   Also, if you’d have read any of the content on my site before reacting to that one post, you’d have noticed it’s a for-fun, very ridiculous project.  It’s not worth your time or your interest, really.  Trust me, I’ve done the research.

5.
I hope you can see the humor in all of this.  I think it’s an interesting and healthy discussion.  This is what blogs are all about– open commentary.  We likely have differences of opinion on the matter of BevMo, but those differences are bound together by a common love:  fine wine.  Cheers!

As soon as we saw the announcement for anniversary month at O’Brien’s pub from owner Tom Nickel, the scheming began.  How could we justify so many trips to the pub in one month? And while every week offered countless tasty options spread across multiple days, it was the Russian River Brewing Company TION night that had everyone salivating (and perhaps in a few cases, prematurely ejaculating), and happened to fall just a few days before JDavid’s birthday. Perfect! One of those few days a year now when going on a serious bender is actually somewhat acceptable- that is, of course, assuming you don’t end up in jail for pissing on the side of the cop car that stops in the middle of the road to fuck with you when you’re walking your drunk ass home.

Unless you’re a hopeless beer geek, you might be asking yourself, what the fuck is Tion night? If you’ve read a couple of our beer posts, you’ve probably realized that each of us would quickly sell our souls (not sure who’s buying though- maybe Dick Cheney?) for a fresh pint of Pliny the Younger (IIIPA), Pliny the Elder (IIPA) or Blind Pig (IPA), part of Russian River’s amazing arsenal of quintessential Pale style beers. The Tion beers are the other side of the spectrum at RR: Belgian-inspired beers that beer genius Vinnie Cilurzo seems to have perfected, all of which end in –tion. Pliny the Younger, along with 11 Tion beers on tap, made for the biggest clusterfuck that I have ever witnessed at O’Brien’s. Fortunately, Tom and his wife, Lindsey, and the rest of the crew at O’Brien’s did an excellent job of keeping the beer-thirsty crowd at bay, making for what has to be one of the best beer nights ever at O’Brien’s- or any beer establishment, for that matter.

This was just the first stop of an awesome birthday binge celebration that also included stops at Hamilton’s Tavern and the grand opening of Blind Lady Ale House, but instead of pretending as if I can give any semblance of a coherent recount of the night, I’ll send you over to SOB Steve, who managed to put together a fairly coherent recap of the evening (that is, except for the pseudonyms: JRhode is JDavid, JDavid is BJR, and jth is Jesse the Hutt).

Highlights from the evening included:
• Pliny the Younger, Consecration (aged in cab barrels), Beatification (a 100% spontaneously fermented beer aged in old, old wine barrels), and Supplication (aged in Pinot Noir barrels) at O’Brien’s
• Airdale Dark and Stormy Imperial Stout and Green Flash Le Freak on tap, and having the privilege of meeting the creator of Hamilton’s Jalapeno Beer Cheese Soup! (Thanks, Deb)
• Green Flash 30th Street Pale Ale and amazing Neapolitan style pizza at the Blind Lady Ale House- finally San Diego (the southern part that is) gets an establishment that knows how to do craft pizza and beer. The tap list is already outstanding at Blind Lady, but when Lee Chase gets the brewery side firing on all cylinders, this place could be hard to beat.
• JDavid looking at his crotch and saying, “no, not right now!” to the cop that asked if he was peeing, instead of pissing on his car, telling him to fuck off, and subsequently getting tossed in the drunk tank.
• My awesome, beer-loving wife hauling our drunken asses around, and not leaving me in the gutter.

Feliz Cumpleanos, JDavid!

Ventured up to Stone Brewing Company in Escondido yesterday with JDavid to score some special release vintage bottles of Imperial Russian Stout. It was the first time that I have ever been to Stone for a special vintage release, so I really had no idea what to expect. Would there be a line of 100 people already waiting, or would I find no one at all? Would it be like the madness of a swap meet opening as the bargain hunters dash to get the best deals on stolen radios and broken bicycles? Or could I expect a massive, bacchanalian orgy with deaf, mute transvestites masturbating hither and thither? It turned out to be an exceptional experience. I will no longer fear the fabricated fantasies of a Stone special bottle release.

We arrived forty minutes before the bottle shop opened and waited in line where there were about 20 people already ahead of us. The brewery looks great since our last visit, shortly after Stone opened a few years back. The flora and fauna have grown lush and some hop vines were blooming heavily. Greg Koch, the CEO of Stone came by and chatted us up while we were standing in line, then moved the line inside so that we could drink while waiting for the shop to open (I love drinking good beer before noon). My impression of Greg is that he is one of the coolest motherfuckers alive (even though he told us he is taking a break from drinking alcohol while he gingerly sipped a spirulina health shake that looked like doody). All things considered, he manages to keep a hands on approach while being a normal guy even as his beer business skyrockets through the roof. I digress. While in line, I had a fresh Ruination and JDavid had an 8oz. glass of 06 IRS on draft. I can’t believe how much better fresh Ruination is than when it gets a little older and maltier. The bottle shop had 01, 04,05,06,07,08 bottles of Imperial Russian Stout for sale. The oldest bottles were a one per person limit (36 bottles total were released of the 01 and 04), while the 05 and beyond had a limit of three. The amazing thing about this is that the 2001 bottle was only 12.50 and every year after went down a buck. Talk about affordable. I really don’t know why Stone releases these so cheaply, but I’m not going to argue.

Anyhow, after we both luckily got the entire fleet of 01-08, we brought our booty back to the car and went back inside where we sat with a prosecutor from San Diego and his buddy, an LA beer geek who works on the show, The Apprentice. Funny guys who both happened to grow up in the East County. Later, my sister made the drive east from Carlsbad and joined us for some brews on the patio. Much imbibing on the patio: More 06 IRS, Ruination, Gouden Carolus Noel, (Oaked Arrogant Bastard and Cali-Belgique were given to us in error, but still delicious) and probably some more beers that I’m forgetting.

Back home by 3:30, one hour power nap then over to BJR’s for the 5:15 Charger game, mexican food, and, of course, more beer. Tried a bevy of belgian brews at Casa de AshBo: Sawyers Triple, Horny Devil, and Green Flash Grand Cru. After the game, JDavid and I made the three mile stumble home; we even managed to make it by 10:00 pm. The walk really seems to take most of the bite out of the morning hangover. Now if the walk would have also knocked the shitty rotten stout taste out of my mouth the next morning, I would have woken up feeling a whole hell of a lot better. Seriously, I would rather gargle with diarrhea than have morning stout mouth. I wonder what the Russians do about this sort of beer halitosis?

Review of Vertical IRS tasting coming soon.

L’Chaim!