alcohol

SILENT SAM Vodka

My Fellow Inebriates,

One of my parents tells me that when she and her friends convened around the liquor store before prom with money in hand for a runner, all agreed said runner should just buy “something clear.” SILENT SAM was duly placed in their underage hands, and the rest is a historic blackout.

Of course it’s a myth that SILENT SAM has no taste. Water has a taste, air has a taste, and so does alcohol. But SILENT SAM is renowned for its ability to disappear into mixers. It’s filtered through silk to remove any impurities that might lend it extra, unwanted flavor.

And like most entry-level vodkas these days, SILENT SAM is distilled from grain, not potatoes, which would contribute a fuller taste.

First the silk. This makes vegans hopping mad: all those little wormies being exploited just to make a screwdriver taste more like Tang and less like vodka.

I say those little guys are lucky; they should see what tequila producers do with worms.

Now the potatoes. Very few vodkas are made with actual potatoes these days, nor is a potato base essential to the definition of vodka (“water” in Polish). However, potato vodkas are more expensive to produce and tend to be more high-end.

Just this morning my good friend Boo suggested I try BISON GRASS vodka.

I woke my dad up this morning and told him to go and get me some BISON GRASS. Although he decided to be a jerk and go to work instead, I have high hopes that I can rope him into a grain-versus-potato experiment. According to another, much more eloquent reviewer than yours truly, it’s delightful: http://goodspiritsnews.wordpress.com/2011/02/27/gsn-review-baks-bison-grass-vodka/?blogsub=confirmed#blog_subscription-3

My dad’s priorities need reordering (what is with my parents and the stigma they think attaches to morning drinking?) but until he decides to help me by stocking our liquor cabinet, all I can do is humbly thank the booze-review pioneers who’ve already discovered all the good stuff out there. And for you Boo, I say: you’re one lucky bear to have a human who understands you. But will she boot for you at grad?

CHOOK SHED Shiraz (2008, Australia)

It’s pretty hard for a little bear to get to the liquor store, so sometimes I ride along in my mum’s coat (which is no less humiliating than my friend Scarybear watching Avatar from inside a purse). From behind my mother’s lapel I can scan the bottles and wallow in nostalgia for my days as a party-animal charity bear.

There is this really great consultant dude at my local store. He approaches in an unassuming way, with this crazy, unidentifiable accent, and immediately intuits what your budget and tastes are. He’s a wine superhero, really. And on our last visit, he pointed to CHOOK SHED.

He was on the money about our budget. At $14.99, CHOOK SHED is in that magical price zone where wine occasionally sings.

When you think about it, price is a great first reference point when shopping for a wine. A while back my parents had a friend over to dinner who is pretty much always a pretentious dick. For these types of people you need to spend $15. That way you can find a bottle that will keep them guessing what you spent on it. Unfortunately for all at dinner that night, the wine they shared was not CHOOK SHED; it was some overrated cab (to be reviewed another time). Fortunately for Liquorstore Bear, my parents brought out the CHOOK SHED when their loser friend had gone home and I was allowed into plain sight.

It’s just that I sometimes embarrass them. If I’m in the room they talk to me, and then guests get weirded out. They try not to, which used to hurt my feelings but bores me now, but inevitably they keep looking my way and next thing you know it’s LB wearing the lampshade and telling stories.

Anyway, CHOOK SHED. Their tool of a friend having gone home, we broke it out and relaxed. Slightly less serious and considerably more of a fruit orgy than the previously reviewed NEXT OF KIN, this shiraz delivers on everything the Barossa Valley is about: soft, layered fruit with symphonic contributions of vanilla, pepper, tannins, and just enough oak.

With its splendid mouthfeel, lasting finish, and respectable 14.7% alcohol content, I have no idea why this shiraz is only $14.99. You could easily pass it off on a boorish dinner guest as something special from your cellar.

Buy a couple of bottles, pound them while watching TV, and tell me what you think.

Cariboo Brewing Cream Ale

My Fellow Inebriates,

As promised, here’s a companion review to my rave about Cariboo Brewing’s honey lager. It took me until late this afternoon to compose my thoughts because I missed my habitual bender last night when one of the kids elected me stuffy du nuit, which meant I couldn’t escape her five-year-old clutches all night long, people. Fast asleep, she couldn’t sense my delirium tremens but nevertheless maintained an iron clutch all night long. Love those kids…

Where was I? Oh yeah, I woke up grumpy—grumpy and discarded, forgotten in the breakfast scramble, and not a drink in sight to get me back to normalcy.

Once I resigned myself to pancakes on the table and not shooters, I skulked around the empties for a while, slurping out the dregs. This is how I have to pull myself together, living as I do under the veil of hypocrisy that surrounds drinking in this house. Just as my parents frown on pre-breakfast imbibing, so do they also point fingers at my lack of any ID indicating a legal drinking age. I’m a bear, humans—how many bears do you know with a driver’s license?

The empties gave me what I needed, and now I can tell you about Cariboos (that’s what it looks like on the can) Cream Ale. Ahhhh! Delectable stuff. Creamy, smooth, not too sweet: everything a cream ale should be.

My dad commented that it wasn’t as fizzy as he would have liked. But it’s not like my dad’s writing any liquor reviews, is he? I liked it fine. It wasn’t lacking effervescence the way Boddington’s is; it was absolutely within the typical fizz range and enough to tickle my fur. Yes, this morning’s dregs were completely flat, but they retained the character of several nights previous, which tells me I could do anything with Cariboos. I could let it sit out a few hours, heat it up, put it in the blender, whatever, and it would still be awesome.

I totally RECOMMEND buying a case of this beer, because Cariboo Brewing plants a tree for every case sold, which gives me something to climb up when toddlers attack.

http://www.cariboobrewing.com/campaign/reforest/