So the Missus and I moved recently, which in and of itself is not newsworthy, but I mention anyways because it seems that I learned during the moving process where the line between hobby and mental illness/obsession is drawn. Amidst all the other things we had to pack and move, I moved no fewer than 27 bottles of root beer, two of which were pint-bottles and therefore larger than your typical bottle of root beer, and one of which was a bottle of sarsaparilla, which we may or may not call root beer for the purposes of this blog (more to come on that, I promise). To save our collective sanity, I decided to forego moving all of the empty bottles I had collected over the course of my blogging adventure (besides, I typically don’t move empty bottles from one place to the next – I like to keep the physical bottle collection as an artifact of the time I lived at a certain place, and the root beer experiences during that time) (plus I didn’t want to piss off the generous volunteer moving crew were they to realize they had to pick up a 50 lb box of empty glass, unlike certain members of my family who have been known to move entire boxes of pine cones from one county to the next). Even so, my associates know me, and therefore one volunteer mover was kind enough to bring a housewarming gift of even more root beer. Thus we begin our new life at our new address with 30 root beers and one sarsaparilla…
I told myself when we were moving that I would celebrate the completion of our move with a special root beer, so now that we’ve thrown away the last moving box, I can finally crack it open.
(Old Town Root Beer Company, June 2011)
You’ll note that Virgil’s Special Edition Bavarian Nutmeg Root Beer is not only special because it says so in its title – it also happens to be the first of the spoils of my root beer field trip last month. No less significant is the fact that it is also, per ounce, the most expensive root beer I have purchased to date (somewhere around $10 per pint…). And it comes in a cool looking ceramic swing-top popper bottle, which may not necessarily justify the financial commitment required to drink it, but should not go unmentioned either...
With the exception of added honey and Bohemian spring water from Bavaria and the deletion of pimento berry oil and balsam oil, Virgil’s Special Edition Bavarian Nutmeg does not appear to be that different from regular Virgil’s, but the differences are actually pronounced. Previously, I said that Virgil’s Root Beer has a distinctive flavor you have to be looking for to enjoy it, so Virgil’s Bavarian Nutmeg is much more accessible by comparison. There is indeed a distinct nutmeg flavor that carries over into the aftertaste along with some heat from either the cinnamon or cassia oil (which, although both come from the same plant, are probably sourced from different places here), but it balances well with the rest of the herbs – anise, licorice (aren’t those two the same thing?), vanilla, cloves, wintergreen, birch, and as I already mentioned, cinnamon and cassia oil. Add some honey and molasses in there and you end up with a very smooth, rich flavor with a balanced amount of sweetness. Unbleached sugar is the primary sweetener, so it not only keeps the honey and molasses from overpowering the flavor, but also adds a nice caramel-y note to the whole thing. With the entire virtual spice rack thrown in there, you would think the finished product would taste more like a Thanksgiving pie (you can certainly pinpoint every herb and spice’s flavor if you’re looking for it), but all ingredients are used deftly to give a full-bodied flavor to the brew.
All in all, the flavor is full, but subtle and creamy at the same time – not mild, just subtle. The stronger flavors here are definitely the requisite root beer herbs: wintergreen, birch, vanilla, and more so licorice and anise, and the added nutmeg is a good break from the norm. Whether or not the Bavarian water adds anything is unclear, though it certainly doesn’t hurt. Jorge Garcia recently deemed Virgil’s Special Edition Bavarian Nutmeg his favorite root beer. I don’t think I would go as far as to say it’s my favorite since I would have preferred a slightly stronger flavor – not a change in the flavor, just more of it – but it’s certainly very good. Maybe I was expecting something transcendent given the hefty price tag. For now, I give it a high 4.
1 comment:
The Pooj looks excellent in this lighting...
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