Beers Eye Drunk

To 90% of the people out there who like Heffs, I'd like to supply this summary review of Erdinger. Erdinger is better than that crap you drink. That dog-pee-yellow, supermarket discount water you so happily cram a lemon into every weekend is merely twice-removed second cousins, if it's even in the same family, with Erdinger.

Erdinger is a great, sit-down Wheat beat. It's thick and flavorful, but that can be a problem for the casual drinker who would rather eat a whole lemon than drink anything that tastes like actual beer. It can also be troubling for people, like myself, who enjoy a good watery Wheat beat which enables you to rip through a six pack in about a half hour and get abruptly wasted without feeling over-filled. If you're alone and you would like a classy clean wheat beer, this is much better than that crap you usually drink. Otherwise, Erdinger appreciates the invite, but he's much too cool for your lame-ass party. Stick to Pyramid and Widmer Hefeweizen, which are both good friends of mine who like to get trashed with me. Occassionally, I'll cram a lemon into them and it's usually a good thing all parties involved. I feel only moderatly guilty in the morning.

My first favorite beer was a micro-brew pale ale from upstate New York. Saranac was an extremely drinkable, but viciously bitter beer, which had an oddly purple hue to it when it came off a tap. I enjoyed it then, as I would now if I could get it, for its unmistakable flavor, which is like a cross between electric honey, antifreeze and wet log. Don't ask me why I find that delicious. Possibly because in upstate New York, you typically have some weak form of a cold gripping your nose and throat for about four months out of the year. You need the extra hops to blow a hole through to your taste buds.

All things considered, Saranac is still one of my favorite beers. However, I would like to officially announce the annulment of my longstanding marriage to pale ales. I am all hopped out. Stone IPA, Racer 5, Hopsickle, countless microbrews.... and after dozens and dozens of them, I am hard-pressed to make a recommendation. Perhaps, it is because the wounds are still fresh or maybe I am just in my rebellious phase. Mostly, I'm just sick of the way a Pale Ale comes over tears you up from top to bottom and leaves you with nothing but bitter memories.

So, I'm done with them for now. Don't ask me about them? If I show up at your party with something else, please don't give me crap about it or make a big to do about it. And yes, I may have a few flirtations with some skanky brown ales for a couple of months. Know that I'm just out there testing the water until I get my confidence back.

I have a lot of beers from this recent load from High Times (For the first and last time, High Times is not the magazine, it's a alcohol import and retailer where they have a wide variety of wine and beer). My roommate gets a super discount, because he is one of their official apron-wearing wine snobs. His friends are coming over tomorrow to watch Modovino, which I can only assume from the title is about gay biker sex. This really ruins my plans to test drive some of the new beers on the one of the finest tracks available, WWE Monday Night Raw. Wrestling in beer: A match made in heaven if I ever saw one.