Seasonable suds

Last weekend, I volunteered to go along with Turtle to the grocery and push the cart. She can manage on her own – though the how of that remains an amazement – but I like to help out when I can. The one rule is that I'm only along to serve as brute labor. Requests such as, “Would you grab a package of macaroni and cheese off that top shelf?” are fine, but questions requiring decision making (a la, “Would you like [this] or [that]?” are strictly verboten.

Anyway, we had just survived the frozen food aisle and deftly dodged the UT alumni holding a reunion at the endcap when we achieved nirvana: the beer aisle. I had thus far on this trip suppressed the urge to inflict bodily harm on any of my fellow shoppers and decided I was entitled to a reward.

“I'll catch up with you,” I told Turtle. “I'm going to pick up a six pack of some fancy beer.”

What I ended up selecting was something called Winter's Bourbon Cask Ale. It wasn't my intention to buy a Michelob product, but I didn't notice that affiliation until later. At right, you can see how Michelob describes the brew on the side panel of the packaging. Hint of vanilla: check. Hint of bourbon: check. Their evaluation of the hoppiness seemed pretty on the mark, as well, and was more in line with Blue Moon or something you'd get from Flying Dog than I generally associate with “ale” – but maybe that's because I lean more toward a pale ale.

Anyway, if you like a little more adventure in your beer than just the typical Budweiser or Miller Lite, you might pick up a six pack. Winter's Bourbon Case Ale is a bit more desserty than I'd choose for my mainstay, but I enjoyed it for a chance of pace.