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.