Stubborn Soda

Pocket Pooj precipitously ponders persistence.

(Spireworks, December 2016)

If we are to believe the marketing campaign, Stubborn Soda will apply the same hipster treatment to soft drinks that hipsters have already applied to beer and coffee.  Depending on your view of hipster beer/coffee, this could either mean a healthy dose of care and craft or an unhealthy dose of lumberjack beards and pretension.  We, of course, are not here to judge the merits of the marketing (or beards, lumberjack or otherwise); only the relative merits of root beer.  Even so, the Stubborn Soda website’s boasting of special glasses they created to highlight the soda’s carbonation and a special tap to decant the soda from a fountain (though I’m not sure what the tap adds to the experience) should give us some pause (source).  Un-pause then, if you will, and you’ll notice that Stubborn Soda’s parent company, The Concentrate Manufacturing Company of Ireland, is actually a subsidiary of Pepsi, which perhaps indicates that Stubborn Soda is taking the Goose Island/InBev route of craft beverages, at least more so than being an Irish craft product.

The tapped version (alas, decanted into a cheap paper cup instead of the fancy snifter) produces a good head of foam (which may be the purpose of the special tap) that’s almost red in color and stays for a decent while.  Despite this, the carbonation in the beverage actually fades quickly.  It has a fruity birch flavor that’s otherwise pleasantly not too sweet, even though it finishes with a very sweet, slightly menthol aftertaste.  Were I more poetic, more cynical even, of Stubborn’s marketing, I might regard this little package of paradoxes intentionally ironic. 

According to website data, the tap version is sugar-sweetened*, whereas the bottled version adds Stevia.  I do have a bottle in my possession, but have not yet tried it, so it might be worth a side-by-side comparison at some point (though I’m not sure how I would get a sufficiently cooled bottle into a restaurant with a tap yet, since I’ve only seen it at one restaurant so far).  Stay tuned, I guess.  In the meanwhile, the tapped version of Stubborn Root Beer gets a 3.

*Did anyone else hear this NPR interview with John Nese of Galco’s?  Anyone want to comment on the veracity of his statements about “real” sugar versus “cane” sugar? 

Damn Fine Root Beer Road Trip, Part 2: The Root Beer Store

One day those logs will have something to say about this.

The store is actually to the right; straight ahead is a … um … cemetery…

(Redmond, WA – September 2015)

In light of the recent news that The Root Beer Store is moving all operations to Idaho – that, and the fact that it’s been well over a year since I made this trek – it’s probably high time I finish writing this post…

Let us harken back, if you will, to oh-so-long ago when life was simpler (um ... not really) and the Missus and I were in the Pacific Northwest for a wedding (yes, really).  As luck would have it, said wedding just happened to put us on the path of a couple different root beer-related field trips that I’d had my eye on for a while.  We’ve already covered the first one (an exciting update on that one is coming soon!) (who am I kidding; nothing happens “soon” any more around here) (let’s just say, “an exciting update on that one is coming … eventually … before the sun supernovas and our solar system collapses … hopefully … and if it doesn’t, we won’t be around to worry about it anyways …”), and the second should be a required pilgrimage for all who number themselves amongst the root-beer-inclined.

Corey Anderson first opened The Root Beer Store in Redmond, WA in 2010.  At the time, he was already a successful small business owner, having spent the past 2 decades running several enterprises including a janitorial service and a wholesale feather duster distributor, the latter of which’s office would become the flagship Root Beer Store (which is the one I visited) [2016 Update: Per Corey’s newsletter regarding the impending move, that feather duster operation has actually been floating the root beer operations for some time now, factoring largely into the decision to move].  Having also grown up making root beer at home with his family, Anderson had originally set out to create his own root beer label.  During an educational excursion down to California to learn from industry professionals / to take a root beer making class, however, Anderson discovered several dozen different root beer labels already in existence, and thus decided to focus on bringing those already-varied brews to the public instead.  The first Root Beer Store started with around 30 different root beers, and has since then expanded to offer, by their own estimate, over 100 varieties in their brick-and-mortar stores and their online operation (sources: 1, 2 this link might be dead, 3).

Pocket Pooj ponders a plethora of pop.

Some of the shelves were partially empty during my visit, which was slightly disappointing since I was hoping to pick up a couple of the out-of-stock labels that had been on my list for a while – not sure if this was due to the fact that it was close to closing on a weekend, or that those items just aren’t available any more.  On the whole though, it was a very successful outing, the highlights definitely being a very helpful “tour guide” finding a bottle of the 30^th Anniversary special edition Sprecher for me that wasn’t even on the shelves (!!!), and finding the can of Hire’s that I already posted about.  There was probably somewhere around 50 different brands of root beer available, with probably 30 more non-root beer varietals, as well as an archival wall of maybe 60 labels (root beer an non-root beer alike) that are out of production.  Non-beverage items included root beer flavored candies and BBQ sauce (no root beer themed feather dusters, to my knowledge...).

Not quite 100 brands today, but still a heck of a lot. 

And for the record, yes, I did ship more soda and glass back to CA than a logical person should have, and yes, I did get a membership to the Association of Root Beer Enthusiasts.  Said membership also came with root beer (naturally), a license plate frame (kind of random, but still amusing), root beer barrel candy (always good), and root beer taffy (very good, I might add).  Also, given how late I’m posting this, said membership has also since expired.  …but at least I still have the license plate frame …

Best of luck with your move, Root Beer Store – see you someday in Idaho…!

The Melt

Pocket Pooj ponders a pickup peddler.

(The Melt - South Coast Plaza, May 2016)

The Melt is part of a relatively recent trend of food trucks setting down brick-and-mortar roots.  More accurately, The Melt started as a Bay Area brick-and-mortar fast-casual grilled cheese joint, which then expanded into a fleet of food trucks (converted from retired school buses), some of which then shuttled down to Southern California, where they then [retired for good (the Southern California ones, at least), and] once again became brick-and-mortar grilled-cheese (and burger, and soup) joints (source). Confused yet? Good.  

All that, of course, is beside the point. Though I'm generally not hip enough to know the latest news in the food truck world, I at least try to Facebook-stalk the root beer world (you can see, doing his own stalking in the background of the above photo, the reason why even the latter has been lacking as of late).  Which, long story short, is why I happen to know that The Melt's menu is developed in part by chef Michael Mina, whose restaurants have been rumored to serve a house-made root beer (which I have been unable to verify; see the aforementioned "not hip enough").

I don't actually know if the sodas they serve at The Melt are the same Michael Mina recipes, but they do advertise them as "all natural." I also don't know with absolute certainty that the sodas are house-made, since the four available flavors -- cola, lemon-lime, black cherry, and root beer -- could be from any number of soda makers.  All four are actually pretty good, but my completely biased opinion is that the root beer is the strongest.

From the tap (and it's actually a tap, not just a soda fountain) there's a respectable head, but it's gone before I make it back to my table.  Bubbles are pretty big, which may account for the speed at which the head disappears, though the carbonation is only mildly sharp.  It tastes a little watered down, but I'm not sure if that's by design or just an unbalanced mix from the tap. The sweetness is balanced though; not too sweet, and if not watered down might actually be a bit on the bitter side -- there's a little medicinal aftertaste that goes up the sinus, as well as a little licorice.

Not bad; the flavors are all there, just a bit too watered down for my liking. I'd still drink it again if I happen to be eating at The Melt -- in fact, the food and beverage is good enough that I dare say that I would prefer eating at The Melt over other comparably-gimmicky mall restaurants, assuming there's one available.  But I still probably wouldn't make a special trip to eat here just for the root beer.  That's a high 3.

Damn Fine Root Beer Road Trip, Part 1: Triple XXX Drive-In

Behold: The largest lit Plexiglas sign in the Western United States (for reals).

(Issaquah, September 2015)

So the Missus and I were ostensibly in the Seattle area for a wedding, but as you may have already gathered from my previous 2 posts, I had ulterior motives (well, I did want to go to the wedding, too. ...honest...).  Having missed earlier opportunities to ostensibly visit family in Lafayette, IN, home of one of the last 2 remaining Triple XXX establishments, we made sure to take a drive through the (fantastic, big, majestic) woods (Douglas firs, Diane) to find the other one – which just so happens to be the only one that still has the traditional root beer barrel storefront. 

The first Triple XXX Drive-In in the Pacific Northwest actually opened further southwest in 1930, but was demolished to make way for a car dealership.  Its current home in Issaquah was built in 1968, and had traditional car-hop service until 1996, when the drive-up portion was demolished to make way for an office building.  Thankfully, the restaurant portion still remains, and its current owners – the Jose Enciso family – don’t seem to want to remove anything else to make way for anything else (source).

…and perhaps have a serious case of horror vacui…

Evidently we were seated in the Elvis corner.

A fountain barrel from days gone by – with separate spigots for syrup and soda.

Truth.

Triple the X, double the root beer, Porta the Pooj.

These days, the Encisos get their root beer syrup from the Coca-Cola Company, but I’m not entirely sure whether it’s Triple XXX syrup or just Barq’s.  I’m inclined to think the former, given that it has a more licorice-heavy flavor than Barq’s typically has.  On the whole, it has a sarsaparilla-like taste, though less vegetal, and not much of an aftertaste (although it’s a little hard to distinguish much past the lingering smell of hot grease – not a bad thing, per se, but it does dull the senses a bit).  Texture is on the thinner side as well, so it’s hard to tell whether its made with sugar or HFCS.

At the end of the day, I have no complaints (just a very full stomach).  I think I still like the bottled Triple XXX better (and I really should still try the IN version at some point for comparison), but I’m nevertheless enjoying the whole experience here.  Triple XXX Drive-In gets a low 4.

...and bonus points for commitment to the theme, even down to the picnic tables…

Rogue

The Porta-Pooj retreats from the herd.

(The Root Beer Store, September 2015)

If you were to throw a Tillamook Baby Loaf in any given direction from any given location in Oregon, you would probably have a reasonably good chance of hitting a craft brewer. Of the glut of breweries that have cropped up during the Pacific Northwest’s micro-brew renaissance, however, you could also probably make a reasonably good argument that Rogue is one of the more successful. From their beginnings in Ashland in 1987, to their fortuitous relocation to Newport – their lease negotiated when one of their co-founders just happened to be stranded in Newport during a snowstorm – Rogue has since grown into a multi-award-winning producer of ales, porters, and stouts. Their vertically-integrated operation includes farming their own barley, hops, and rye, and their production has expanded to include non-beer items such as cheese, tuna (to which I must add ehhhh???), and, of course, root beer (source).

Rogue Root Beer is also award-winning…well, sort of, at least technically-speaking. More accurately, their Root Beer bottle won a packaging design award last year (source). While we can probably all reasonably agree that the bottle is nice-looking on the outside, we wouldn’t want to seem superficial either, so let’s just say that it’s really what’s on the inside that counts, right? Yeah…? OK.

What’s on the inside, when poured outside, has a decent head of soft bubbles; the bigger the pour, the bigger the head (the ingredients list “sparkling foam” as the foaming agent). The scent is heavily licorice, slightly medicinal, and the flavor is crisp, almost fruity, with some clove for good measure. As the fruity flavor fades, the honey flavor builds – light, like blossom honey, not like clover honey – and floats to the top of the mouth. Eventually the fruity flavor comes back in an apple cider-like finish, with a very slight amount of heat in the aftertaste.

The honey – which is also produced at the Rogue farm, by the way – doesn’t really thicken the texture like I’ve come to expect from other honey-sweetened root beers, nor does it make the drink cloying, as I’ve experienced in the past (though don't always expect). Instead, the brown sugar actually adds some depth to the sweetness (and it’s definitely on the sweet side of the scale). Ultimately though, the fruity flavor comes back to dominate, and that imparts an overall tart taste to the whole thing that I’m not really sure I like.

For all that Rogue does right as a company, I just don’t think their Root Beer really hits all the marks of a good, classic root beer. While I’d most certainly welcome trying some of their other sodas (except the Pumpkin Spice, because…why…never…pumpkin spice…eh), I didn’t particularly like the root beer. Rogue Root Beer gets a high 3.

Hires

The Pocket-Pooj is a patent-pending original.

(The Root Beer Store, September 2015)

If you’re reading this blog, there’s a pretty good chance that you already know some of the history, significance, and unfortunate decline of Hires Root Beer.  Much better-written and more detailed accounts are available here and here, but long story (relatively) short, Pennsylvania pharmacist Charles Hires first brought root beer to the forefront of the American consciousness when he introduced his version of the beverage to fair-goers at the 1876 Philadelphia US Centennial Exposition.  While the origins of the beverage are still up for debate – legend says that Hires discovered a “root tea” years prior, during his honeymoon, while other sources suggest that he created it at the behest of pre-Prohibition temperance movement leaders – its seemingly meteoric rise in popularity can be fairly attributed to Hires himself.  Hires first marketed solid concentrate and powdered versions of root beer – claiming that it could purify the blood and bring color to the cheeks, among other health benefits – before shifting production to kegs and liquid concentrates for soda fountains as well as at-home mixing in your very own Hires Automatic Munimaker (additional source).

By 1890, Hires and his company, appropriately named the Charles E. Hires Company, had started small-bottling operations for commercial sale, and sales of these bottles and home-mix extracts would continue for close to another 100 years.  Sadly, Hires Root Beer’s slow death stretched through the latter half of that century of production.  Hires handed over his company to his sons in 1925, and the company would continue to flourish under the family’s watch until 1960, when it was purchased by Consolidated Foods.  Just two years later, Consolidated Foods sold the company again to Crush International, which was purchased in its entirety by Proctor & Gamble in 1980 and sold again to Cadbury Schweppes in 1989 (source).  By the time Cadbury Schweppes divested its soft drinks branch into the Dr. Pepper Snapple Group in 2008, Hires’ parent company had already decided to slowly phase Hires out of production in order to promote its own A&W line (source).

Lest you feel bad for Charles Hires himself, fret not, since he actually did quite well for himself after leaving the company he started.  He would later become one of the world’s experts on vanilla, writing a book on the subject from knowledge he gleaned in the wholesale vanilla bean business (source).  I’m inclined to believe that this expertise resulted in Hires, however peripherally, continuing to influence the product that he made into a household staple.

Personally, I recall seeing Hires Root Beer around here and there as a kid, and even remember drinking a fair amount of it during summer music camp in elementary school.  With production now scarce, distribution limited to a handful of states of which California is not one, I don’t think I had seen any Hires Root Beer in any form at all for at least a couple decades.  I was thus very pleasantly surprised to find a canned version in Washington during a recent foray into the Pacific Northwest (more on that to come).

Decanted into a glass, Hires has a satisfyingly thick head of foam that stays on top of the pour for a while, then sticks around the edges for the remainder of its time in said glass. Surprisingly, there isn’t much of a scent to speak of.  Also surprisingly, it has a relatively rich and smooth texture for a HFCS-sweetened soda.  The flavor is a good balance of sweetness and herbal, somewhere between A&W and Barqs, with a menthol finish (possibly some wintergreen then) that lasts for a long time in the aftertaste.  While there’s nothing that stands out in particular, there’s a good mix of everything that I would typically refer to as a “generic” root beer flavor.  Ordinarily that “generic” label would relegate a root beer to the realm of mediocrity, but considering that (1) Hires quite probably executes the “generic” root beer flavor better than everyone else, and (2) Hires is quite probably the flavor that every other “generic” root beer flavor aims to emulate to begin with, I tend to view that “generic” label very favorably in this case.  My only gripe is that it doesn’t use real sugar, but I’m OK with that for the most part because it still tastes really good.

Am I perhaps giving the current Hires label the benefit of the doubt because of what the original label has meant to the history of root beer?  Yeah, probably.  But the fact of the matter is that I would easily drink this again whenever the opportunity presents itself, and might even consider having it shipped here so that the opportunity presents itself more often.  So by that rationale, Hires Root Beer warrants a 4.5.

Black Bear

I see a Pooj looking at me.

(Real Soda in Real Bottles, December 2012)

So we know that Bulldog Root Beer is named for its owners’ Bulldogs, III Dachshunds Root Beer is named for its owners’ III Dachshunds, and Freaky Dog Root Beer is named for its owner’s Freaky Dog. Following that trend then, Black Bear Root Beer is named for its owner’s … Black Bear …? 

Really, it is… 

Needless to say, Louis Patmont had to release his baby bear back into the wild when it became less baby, but named his business after it in remembrance of their good times together. Patmont had already been bottling spring water in Town of Lake, WI since 1920, but didn’t make the name change until 1924, and didn’t include flavored sodas in his repertoire until 1932. Thirty years later, in 1961, Peter and Esther Caruso bought the business and their family runs it to this day, moving production to Oak Creek, WI in 2001 where distribution would be easier (source). 

There’s a nice scent coming from the bottle, with some vanilla that doesn't really end up factoring much in the flavor. Bubbles are small, and there’s no head at all – not even any bubbles rising to the top of a glass when poured. I don’t know if this is normal or more due to the fact that I have an old bottle – I’m easing back into this game slowly, evidenced by the smaller serving size for my first real post in oh-so-many months. Unfortunately, that means some of my stock of new-to-me root beers is much older than I’d care to admit. 

Disclaimer aside, the taste is very sweet compared to other flavors present – your standard herbal flavor with some clove around the edges. Although Black Bear uses HFCS instead of real sugar, the texture is much improved over standard HFCS, which is typically thin. Black Bear coats the mouth more than HFCS usually does, which helps to leave a pleasant herbal aftertaste that is, again, pleasant, if not particularly distinctive. I’m going to give Black Bear a low 3.5 for now, but I might be inclined to give it another fair shot should the opportunity present itself, given that the bottle is so old. 

Follow me down another rabbit hole (bear hole…?) for a second here (actually, I should recommend not ever following anybody down any bear hole, should anybody ever ask): III Dachshunds is produced by Black Bear, which was purchased by the Caruso family in 1961, for which Caruso’s Legacy Root Beer is named. All three of those labels are now owned by WIT Brewing Company of Redding, CA, which now also runs Goose Island’s soda operation (though evidently not the beer operation), as well as another label called Oak Creek Barrel Aged, also based in Redding (but named for a town in Wisconsin, with a Chicago phone number…?), that ages two root beer varieties in oak barrels for an entire year. I don’t know if any brewing or bottling occur in Redding, but I’d be interested to see what a side-by-side comparison of these labels would reveal. On paper, Caruso’s and Dachshunds have the exact same ingredients list, though the nutritional information indicates different quantities of sugar and therefore calories. Goose Island differs from both in the order that the natural/artificial flavor and citric acid are added, as well as an additional preservative. Black Bear already differs from everything else in its use of HFCS instead of sugar, so there should already be a noticeable difference in flavor. No ingredients are indicated for Oak Creek, but there are already enough differences in its production to suggest a very different experience (source). 

I have somewhat ready access to all the aforementioned labels except the Oak Creek varietals, so perhaps we can find some SCIENCE(!) down that rabbit hole sometime in the future. Meanwhile I need to sort through my stash to see which bottles have already become science experiments in their own right… …Stay tuned…

Happy Root Beer Float Day!

Hey Folks, it's been a while...

Parental, educational, and vocational obligations are still relegating the pursuit of root beer (i.e., happiness -- not the sole definition of it, of course, but no small factor in its general definition either) to the back burner for the near future. I'll be back soon, I promise.

Ahhh, cafeteria food. Note the whimsically speckled solid-surface table.

Until then, this is unfortunately the best I can muster for today's festivities -- I am at least fortunate enough to be in a place where Barqs and soft serve are readily available.

Once again, celebrate accordingly and responsibly...!

Redeemer

(Absolution Brewing Company, February 2015)

Absolution Brewing Company opened a little short of a year ago in the South Bay, Los Angeles’s up-and-coming center of craft brewing. Owners Steve Farguson and Nigel Heath, along with head brewer at the time Wes McCann, noticed an underserved market for microbrews in south LA County, observing that many in the region headed even further south to San Diego County for fresh beer. Since the City of Torrance had already been making efforts to attract craft brewers to the region, native-Angeleno Farguson drew on his experience as a brewing consultant to open his own shop closer to home (source). The brewery and tap room are actually located in the back of a nondescript tilt-up office park, buried behind an oil refinery and bordered by train tracks, but that fact does little to hide Absolution from the relatively large group gathered here to drink at noon on a weekday. Maybe the repurposed church pews (previously purposed at Heath’s church, evidently) and religiously-themed brew names (which you might have already figured, given the name of the brewery) are adequate to assuage the guilt of a liquid lunch…. 

Naturally, I chose one of their tea-totaling options…

The Pocket Pooj ponders a pardon.

Current head brewer Bart Bullington – who, it’s worth noting, was actively head brewing and shoveling grain out of a mash tun next to my pew during my visit – developed Absolution’s root beer recipe along with many of the, shall we say, holier brews. It’s heavy on the licorice and herbs, almost bordering on bitter, with a menthol finish. Nevertheless it’s quite refreshing, and the fact that it’s not too sweet actually makes it easier to drink. There’s no head at all and the bubbles are on the small side, the former being a little disappointing but the latter also making it easier to drink. Lest you be worried about the fate of the former head brewer, McCann was manning the bar, and he told me that they use nitrogen instead of carbon dioxide for the carbonation (assuming it’s still called carbonation if it’s not actually carbon…?). Unfortunately, the nitrogen limits Redeemer Root Beer’s availability to the tap house at the moment – it will not travel well in a growler, and will quickly go flat.

Well, in that case...

Inspired by the above exhortation, strategically placed on the restroom wall, I also had a glass of the Confession Cream Soda, which was actually a little spicy, too. Of course, I can't tell for sure whether that's intentional or just the root beer aftertaste talking. Either way, the Cream Soda does have a huge head of soft foam, and was also pleasantly not too sweet, with less vanilla than you'd typically expect in a cream soda.

Back to Absolution’s root beer, though: I like it well enough, but it’s also a little on the bitter side for my every day tastes. On the other hand, that same bitterness would actually make Redeemer a good root beer to cook with – generally the stronger ones make better root beer sherbets and whatnot. As a drinking root beer however, I’ll give Redeemer Root Beer a high 3.5.

dougieDOG Butterscotch Root Beer

The Pooj puts his arms out front, leans side to side.

(The Milkman at Granville Island Public Market, Vancouver - June 2012)

There’s been a lot of conflicting information floating around the internet in the past few months in regards to the World’s Most Expensive Hot Dog. As early as April of 2012, dougieDOG of Vancouver, home of the $100 Dragon Dog, had claimed ownership of the Guinness World Record (source). Relatively recently, dougieDOG made claims of the same of official Guinness recognition again (source). However, according to even more recent news on the Guinness World Records website itself, someone else in Seattle now has claim to the title. Officially, I’m confused – this, of course, happens rather frequently regarding a wider array of subjects than cased meat, and probably means nothing in the long run except that it tangentially relates to root beer.

On the 2nd-and-a-half-ish anniversary of dougieDOG's supposed first (?) induction into the Guinness Book of World Records then (which is to say, not related in any way whatsoever...), we raise a commemorative bottle of root beer – dougieDOG Butterscotch Root Beer, to be exact. dougieDOG founder dougieluv (yes, that's really his name, and yes, that's really how he spells/capitalizes it) has a clear passion (ahem, ::luv::) for frankfurters, with the credentials to prove it.  After touring the US to make a documentary about regional hot dog styles, dougie used his research to open a restaurant in Vancouver to serve these US-regional dogs alongside styles of his own creation (of which the Dragon Dog is but one). In addition to allegedly holding the World Record above, dougieDOG also claims to hold the record for serving the largest variety of root beers in Vancouver (source). My own past experience with a supposedly-record-setting hot dog may have turned me off to participating in anything hot-dog-record-related again (I won't go into detail ... ever ...), but I can certainly get on board with anyone even attempting to make such a root beer claim.  And while I didn't actually procure this bottle at dougieluv's establishment (which is closed now according to Yelp, though several satellite locations and food trucks remain), I did get it in Vancouver, so at least it's from dougie's home district (Galco's has since started stocking it in the great brown south, FYI).

Perhaps dougieDOG Butterscotch Root Beer would have been better experienced in its natural habitat, whilst in a sausage-and-poutine-induced haze, because it’s not particularly noteworthy on its own. The scent from the bottle starts generically root beer-ish (similar to most middle-of-the-road root beers), but quickly veers towards butterscotch. From then on, it’s essentially the butterscotch’s show. It tastes more like butterscotch pudding and less like a butterscotch disk – with an actual scotch-like flavor – but doesn't really taste like root beer at all. Aside from that, there's not much to add except that the texture is on the thinner side, with a clean aftertaste.

Which isn't to say that there aren't a couple of positive notes: it has a nice amount of medium-sized bubbles (no foam though), and does in fact have a good butterscotch flavor. If you’re in the mood for a Flying Cauldron Butterscotch Beer but are not in the mood for the sugar shock that comes with the typical Flying Cauldron experience, dougieDog is the way to go. Just don’t go expecting root beer, that's all. That being the case then, dougieDOG Butterscotch Root Beer gets a 2.

Mason's

The Pooj keeps the metric system down.

(BevMo Pasadena, June 2012)

Mason's Root Beer has had a volatile history. Originally opened in 1947 by Mason & Mason Inc. in Chicago, it has since 1970 bounced around from big beverage companies to bigger beverage companies, eventually landing with PepsiCo after a hostile takeover. The FTC, however, decided Pepsi was too powerful, so forced its sale to Monarch Beverage Company in 1978, where Mason's has remained (source). While there also appears to have been a chain of midwestern drive-ins bearing the Mason's name and logo, I'm not sure how they were associated with Mason & Mason, if at all (similar to how the remaining Triple XXX drive-ins are no longer part of the Triple XXX bottling operation). Unfortunately, I might never find out, given that there only appears to be one drive-in left and it's all the way over in Washington, IN.

If the bottled Mason’s is any indication, however, I might not have to make the trip. While there is a nice amount of foam that forms at the initial pour (though it doesn’t stay very long) and a smooth texture with soft, small bubbles, the flavor isn't particularly remarkable. Not that it’s bad – there’s just nothing distinctive about it, so it’s rather generic. The scent suggests something slightly licorice-y and slightly fruity, but the dominant taste is sugar. Again, it’s not even that Mason’s is too sweet – it actually has a pleasant sweetness – it’s just that there’s nothing else to really speak of. Considering the smoothness, I would have expected there to be either honey or a foaming agent included, but neither are indicated in the ingredients list nor implied by the taste. Just as sugar is the dominant flavor, so it is with the aftertaste – mostly sweet with a very slight tartness and an even slighter menthol/cool feeling.

Were I to find myself in Indiana for any reason, with access to a car and a few hours of spare time, maybe I’d make an effort to see the remaining Mason’s drive-in for the sake of research, but I suppose if any of these factors did line up, I’d probably make the effort to see Triple XXX in Lafayette first (and seeing as Washington and Lafayette are 3 hours apart, I’m unlikely to get to see both unless I’m required to drive through western Indiana for whatever reason I’m required to be in Indiana to begin with…). But again, nothing compelling all on its own to make the effort, which may be the best way to describe Mason’s Root Beer: not bad, but not particularly special. That’ll get you a 3.

Honest Fizz

(Whole Foods, June 2014)

Sorry folks, no photo this time.  I had briefly considered Photoshop-ing something together, but then considered the irony – indeed, hypocrisy – of presenting something called Honest Fizz with a completely fabricated image.  You’ll have to settle for the photos and description on the company website (link here) for reference.

As you can already see, this is the root beer offering from Honest Tea’s relatively-recent foray into non-tea beverages.  In addition to being a root beer fanatic, I am somewhat of a brewed-tea fiend, and Honest Tea is one of only a couple bottled teas that I’ll resort to in the absence of the fresh-brewed whole-leaf varietal.  Given that, I’m willing to give their root beer a fair shake at winning me over.

Having said that, I think that they would have been more honest if they called it “root beer flavored soda” instead of "root beer."  My first warning should have been its advertisement as “zero calorie,” but since it’s made with stevia instead of an artificial chemical sweetener, I’m willing to give it a chance because I have had at least one decent stevia-sweetened root beer.  Unfortunately, Honest Fizz reminds me less of Zevia, which I thought was drinkable, and more of Santa Cruz Organic, which I did not.  It has a golden tan color, much like Santa Cruz, with a scent and flavor reminiscent of Extra Dessert Delights’ root beer float-flavored chewing gum and Cracker Barrel’s root beer-flavored licorice vines.  Thankfully stevia does not leave the throat-stinging aftertaste that artificial sweeteners often do, though the aftertaste is thin, tart, and vaguely fruity. 

I suppose if you are desperate for a no-calorie, organic, non-GMO soda, this could work – I’m willing to bet that Honest Fizz’s fruit-flavored sodas are much better (there is also a non-organic version of the root beer which I have not seen or tried, but I doubt that there is a significant taste difference).  The carbonation is a little sharp, but an otherwise pleasant drinking experience for a canned soda, with small bubbles, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it amount of foam, and an oddly tea-like texture (that is, rich and light at the same time, like a dark oolong).  But good root beer needs more than good bubbles and good intentions.  Honest Fizz Root Beer gets a 2.

Mammoth Imperial

The Pooj feels a little woozy.

(Mammoth Brewing Company, July 2014)

High in the Eastern Sierras, near the Owens Valley where we of Southern California steal most of our water, sits Mammoth Mountain. While most people know already know Mammoth as a hiking and skiing destination, fewer know that it is home to the purported highest brewery on the west coast (which may be a generous assessment, given that Mammoth is some 200 miles from the ocean, on the non-coast-facing side of a massive mountain range, but we’ll just go with what they say for now…). Since 1995, the Mammoth Brewing Company has crafted their wares hereabouts, 8,000 feet above sea level. They've even recently expanded their capacity to produce an apropos 8,000 barrels of brew each year, of which some are presumably their Mammoth Imperial Root Beer (source).

It certainly helps to have friends in high altitudes, seeing as this growler of happiness was gifted to me by a local, but I will have to add a disclaimer to everything else I’m about to write: high altitudes also means long distances and infrequent visits, so at the time of sampling, this growler of happiness had already been happy-ing (??) in said local's fridge for a month. Although I’ve managed to keep fresh root beer fairly well maintained in the fridge for several weeks, a recent bad experience with some good stuff that I had forgotten about in the fridge for a little (actually, a lot…) too long suggests that even something so sugary has a definite shelf life. My point in saying this, then, is that I will need to do another test in the future, closer to the source (or at least closer to the time of purchase) before any real conclusions can be formed or preliminary conclusions verified.

On with the show then, shall we?

The good news is that the carbonation has held up – the bubbles are on the small end of medium and get smaller after the initial head dissipation. Since the head itself doesn’t actually stay for more than a couple seconds, the medium bubbles give way to smaller bubbles fairly quickly. From the growler and from the glass, the scent is heavily herbal and menthol, leaning towards licorice as well. Not surprisingly then, the flavor is also heavy on the menthol and herbs, with a hit of licorice as well. It’s not too sweet – it probably could have used a little more sugar to balance the bitterness of the herbs, which tends to skew the flavors sour – with a sarsaparilla-like aftertaste. Again, the menthol is also strong in the aftertaste, leaving a cool feeling on the tongue.

For now, in its current iteration, I like Mammoth Imperial Root Beer well enough.  Perhaps a fresher batch would actually taste sweeter (the aforementioned spoiled stuff became much more bitter with time, like over-extracted tea or coffee), thereby counteracting some of the mild bitterness – the only thing I didn't really like about it.  Either way, I would happily give it a second go for the sake of being thorough in my research. Mammoth Imperial Root Beer gets a high 3.5.

Root Beer Field Trip: Galco’s Summer Soda Tasting 4 – The Great Root Beer Taste-Off

(July 20, 2014)

As one of Southern California’s few root beer-dedicated bloggers**, I regarded it as nothing less than my solemn duty to attend Galco’s Summer Soda Tasting 4 a couple weeks ago, so advertised as The Great Root Beer Taste-Off. Were the sunny weather and free-pouring sugary beverages of a typical Galco’s Summer Soda Tasting not already reason enough to draw the masses, certainly the soda inspiring (possibly) the most variation and (possibly) the most polarizing opinions amongst the pop-pantheon would be sufficient motivation to party hearty, wouldn’t you think? 

**a position that is, admittedly, self-bestowed and simply based on the fact that most of the other root beer blogs that I personally follow are based elsewhere in this great nation – that having been said, if you are also one of Southern California’s root beer-dedicated bloggers, I’m really not trying to take any more credit than I’m due, so please leave me a message in the comments so that maybe we can start a Southern California Root Beer Meet-Up Group, or something like that, or at least compare notes and run-on sentences.

Believe you me, with an infant in the house, the complications that merely getting out of the house entails needs some serious incentive to make worthwhile, so I don’t say this lightly.  Clearly, infant-ed and non-infant-ed alike shared my sentiment (the former, not the latter)(well, probably the latter, too) – a volunteer at Galco’s pointed out that this was the highest turn-out to date for one of the Summer Soda Tastings. Observe:

With no fewer than 49 root beers represented – not including 6 birch beers, 7 sarsaparillas, and a sad, lonely table of 9 diet root beers (and a table inside the store serving up Jones Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda…) – it was indeed a good time. …not to mention a serious sugar high... Had even a single hot dog vendor had the foresight to set up shop on the sidewalk outside, he/she would have made a killing. As is, we needed to head into the store to grab some salty snacks, where I ran into John Nese’s doppelganger.

Mr. Nese was actually around, but understandably quite occupied, keeping order inside the store as well as keeping tasting stations stocked outside. Since there was no particular order in which we were directed to hit up the tasting stations, we decided to start with Galco’s/Highland Park’s very own White Rose.

From there, we flittered about, eventually camping out in front of the “Flavored Root Beer” table, which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that it was in the shade.

Consequently, we also ended up spending a considerable amount of time partaking of the sarsaparilla and birch beer stations immediately adjacent.

Otherwise we kept it respectable, each downing probably the equivalent of 2-3 bottles of soda, one 1.5 oz shot at a time. Here’s the full lineup:

Did I mention that this was all for a good cause (besides keeping local dentists in business)? The entire event was a fundraiser for the Friends of the Southwest Museum Coalition, who are trying to get the nearby Southwest Museum reopened on a more regular basis. Currently, the museum is operated by the Autry Museum and is only open one day a week – and only for a few hours, at that. You’ll recall that this is the same Southwest Museum that a portion of the proceeds from White Rose soda sales goes towards (there’s a little more information in my White Rose post from way back when). So even if we didn't feel so good afterwards about ingesting so much sugar, we could at least feel better that it was for the greater good of our community.

Until next year, then…