Freddie's Old Fashioned Root Beer

This is gonna be another quick one. Sorry, but i have a bunch of these in my fridge and need to get through them. I presume some of you, my loyal readers, actually prefer to not read any of my blathering run-on sentences i've been writing about my life lately, but i guess i wouldn't know since i truly don't care to read any of your comments or just generally interact with you at all. So with that, let's talk about Freddie's Old Fashioned Root Beer. I found this at my local Fry's grocery store, which is my preferred grocery shopping market. Freddie's is bottled in Frankfort, KY by Buffalo Trace Distillery. I have heard a lot about Buffalo Trace Whiskey as they are frequent sponsors on the Joe Rogan Experience Podcast, but i have not indulged in the whiskey itself. I'm lead to believe that it's quite good, though i wouldn't know a good whiskey from a bad one if someone asked me. But it looks like this is the line of craft sodas that Buffalo Trace is responsible for. And since i can't weigh in on the whiskey, I guess i'll just have to see what this root beer holds.

The traditional 12 oz brown glass bottle has some fun labels attached, including one around the neck saying "Isn't that neat?". Well, it is in fact neat, as well as the little thumbs up on the cap and the profile image of a balding man wearing glasses and saying "Hey Daddy-o". It's fun and lively, so props for that Freddie's. A little harder to read at the bottom of the label is an informal ingredients list boasting the use of natural herbs, oil of birch and imported vanilla. The formal ingredients list says this stuff is sweetened with cane sugar and/or high fructose corn syrup. Not really sure how to take that. I guess they are covering all the bases with that statement. 

Well, whatever they sweeten this stuff with they did a decent job. This is a solid root beer all the way through. It has a classic, traditional root beer base with a sweet, creamy vanilla finish. The carbonation is a bit light for my taste, but otherwise it's very matter of fact. This is a root beer and it makes no qualms about it. Maybe my only criticism is that the flavor isn't distinct. I have no confidence that i could pick this out of a lineup. But that fact aside, i'm sure if i did a blind taste test of this root beer i would come to the conclusion that it's great even if i couldn't tell you what brand it was. 

My official review is that Freddie's Old Fashioned Root Beer gets 7 (seven) IBCs. Another great outing for a random root beer tucked away in my fridge. I am a fan of this stuff, and it seems to be popping up lots of places i have seen in my regional travels around the country so it is fairly readily available from what i can tell. Buffalo Trace is well known for putting a lot of time and effort into crafting their signature whiskey and i could say that seems to be the case for their root beer as well. Well done you. Go ahead and give this one a shot if you get the chance.

1919 Classic American Root Beer

This one will be short and sweet. Still on my quest to get through all the root beers in my fridge and this one was sitting right in front and looking so enticing. A friend of mine mailed me a care package full of root beers i have yet to review, which was very kind of her. 1919 Classic American Root Beer has been around since the beginning of Prohibition (which began in 1919) when breweries were faced with the dilemma of shifting operations to start making non-alcoholic beverages. Many breweries began making sodas, including the brewery that began making this one. This root beer hales from the northern MidWest region of the United States. New ULM Brewing and Beverage Co. operates out of Sleepy Eye, MN today and brews this soda to distribute to the surrounding areas. I got what is commonly referred to as a "tall boy" can, which is 16 oz. compared to the traditional 12 oz. can or bottle. That just means there is more of this to share with your wife and kids when you try it out for yourself. This is also available in bottles, growlers and even kegs if you're somewhere near where this is brewed. I really dig the label. It's simple but elegant and has bright pops of red to accentuate the design. Very tasteful.

Speaking of taste, this stuff packs it in. The recipe calls for real sugar and real vanilla, which gives this root beer a nice, solid, sweet and creamy flavor. The vanilla finish is a real treat. The website says this is great for root beer floats, which i don't doubt because this basically tastes like a root beer float already. In fact, it's so good that the website says it should only be had as a treat once in a while and shouldn't be consumed regularly. Kind of a refreshing take from the people who make this stuff. I'm really impressed with how good it is.

My official review is that 1919 Classic American Root Beer gets 9 (nine) IBCs. I mean... wow... this one is a treat. It's been a loooonnngg time since i've had a 9 come along and this one took me by surprise. My only wish is that i could get some locally, but i am nowhere near the northern MidWest region of the United States and don't know when i will ever get up to that area. So if you are feeling like making a pilgrimage or happen to stumble across some of this stuff then do yourself a favor and grab a few for a real solid root beer experience. 

Red Rock Root Beer

I'm gonna go on a bit of a rant here, but i gotta say this because it's probably the most important issue our culture is facing right now. 

Literally; in a literal sense or manner: such as
a) in a way that uses the ordinary or primary meaning of a term or expression.
b) used to emphasize the truth and accuracy of a statement or description.
c) with exact equivalence: with the meaning of each individual word given exactly.
d) in a completely accurate way.

This word (literally) has completely captured our cultural vernacular. This word is used everywhere by everyone all the time, and i'm here to say that it has to stop. The criticism against using the word "literally" used to be that it was being used incorrectly, i.e. "i'm so hungry that i could literally eat a horse." Clearly that's hyperbole and someone, regardless of their current stage of hunger, would not be able to consume and digest an entire horse in any reasonable amount of time allotted for a meal. So the correction was to use this word only when describing something in the context with letter b) above, to emphasize a point. But it has become over saturated at this point. Passively listen to any conversation. I mean any conversation. It could be watching a scripted TV show, or listening to a podcast, or overhearing people talking on the street or at the park or in a store. Count how many times one of the people in the conversation uses the word "literally" and you will see what i mean. Everyone is saying it. Everyone, everywhere, all the time (like that movie that came out recently that i didn't see). Your neighbor is saying it, your pastor is saying it, your news anchor is saying it, your child is saying it, you are saying it. Everywhere. All the time. It's crazy how captivated our culture is by this word. I was ruminating on this idea after witnessing my 4 year old niece say the word "literally" (in correct context mind you, i.e. to emphasize a point) probably 3-4 times in one short conversation with her mom. It's gotten out of hand. And i am not immune to this. I am saying this word all the time just like everyone else, but i'd like to stop. 

Here's the thing... people don't like being told what to do (or in this case, what not to do). So coming right out and telling people to stop saying the word "literally" likely won't have any effect. I think the only thing that can be done to draw attention to this issue is to double down. So now, whenever i hear someone say the word "literally" in a conversation i just repeat the word aloud for all to hear. For example, let's say i overhear you talking while standing in a line. I don't know you and i am just near you where i am in earshot of you and vice versa. You: "This cashier is so slow. I have been standing in line for literally (me: "literally") 10 minutes. I could have literally (me: "literally") been back at work by now." On it's face, it's annoying. Some weirdo you don't know chiming in on your conversation to just repeat the word "literally" after you've said it. You probably wouldn't think much of it. Now imagine the same scenario, but now everyone around you says it right after you've said it. You say the word "literally" in a casual conversation and then 10 or more people around you all say "literally" aloud for everyone to hear. It would carry much more weight and draw your attention to the scenario. I know it seems counter intuitive, but i think the only way out of this is through overuse and over saturation to the point where everyone is aware and everyone is sick of hearing this word. Now, that's Phase 1 of this plan. Phase 2 is much harder. You have to stop using the word yourself. Don't get down on yourself when you say "literally" to emphasize a point because it has completely invaded our psyche at this point and it's a natural go to when forming a sentence. We are all saying it which means we are all thinking it, so to correct this behavior we have to correct the way we think about how we speak. Like mentioned above, most of the time we are using this phrase to emphasize that what are saying is in fact true. I have tried replacing that word with something like "genuinely", "truly", or "sincerely". Or honestly, it's simple enough to just remove the word "literally" from whatever sentence you are about to say and your statement would not only be grammatically correct, it would still convey what you're trying to say. So how about it gang? Are we gonna do this?

Ok, rant concluded. Let's talk root beer. I think my friend Alysia sent this to me but i don't remember exactly where i got it. Red Rock Root Beer has been around since 1885 (according to the label) and hails from Atlanta, GA. There isn't much about this company from a simple google search and even the source of all truth has limited info about this company. Sounds like they started out with a ginger ale and were popular during the early turn of the 20th century but fell off almost entirely around the 1950's. Even the label is pretty sparse on the info. Speaking of the label, it's pretty cheap looking. It's just a clear sticker poorly affixed to a clear 12 oz glass bottle. Really no frills with this label. I actually like the little sticker on the neck of the bottle which seems more true to the 1950's style logos of that time. The new label is just so bland that i have nothing else to say about it. 

Cracking the cap released a pleasant enough aroma of caramel which is prominent in the taste. Other than that, it's quite "thin" (as i often describe the taste on these types of root beers) and has a not terrible but not great aftertaste. It is sweet from the cane sugar but ultimately lacks even a basic root beer flavor. It tastes like a soft caramel candy cube that my wife enjoys, yet it is still somehow less satisfying. I don't want to give the impression that this stuff is bad because it's not. But it's also not good. It's very... blah. Maybe why the company went out of business but doesn't explain why it was resuscitated. 

My official review is that Red Rocks Root Beer gets 4 (four) IBCs. It's not that i don't like the way it tastes, it's more that it doesn't really even taste like a root beer. It's just a sugar soda. I have already said more about this than the entire wikipedia entry, just more opinion and frivolous nonsense and less factual information. If you wanted to get this stuff i don't even know where to tell you to look. But i'd truly, sincerely, genuinely say don't bother because there are so many other root beers out there that are better than this. Literally. 

B.Stiff & Sons Old Fashioned Root Beer

My family is bad at communicating in general. My wife talks with her mom and sisters at least every other day if not everyday. I will send a text to my brothers and won't hear back until i track them down via a phone call or persistent pestering. On birthdays i will usually try and shoot a quick text to them not expecting to hear back and usually receiving no response. So when it came time for my father to turn 80 years old, which he did yesterday, i decided to put in more effort than just a simple text. I decided to be the good son and organize a little get together at my parents' house in St. George, UT. My brothers all agreed to make the pilgrimage from various locations both near and far to come and celebrate this momentous event in my dad's life. I didn't have a super close relationship with my dad growing up. I was the youngest of 6 kids and always viewed my dad as an uptight task master who didn't have time for me. But like many other people i have talked to at my age i would say my dad is a completely different person now. He's way more laid back and jovial as well as simply being a doddering old man. And frankly, part of what i wanted to do was to just acknowledge that my aging father is running out of birthdays so we should spend some time talking to him and gaining wisdom and insight from the man who raised and supported us. So i wrote out several questions i wanted to ask about his life and growing up. First of all, he told me he doesn't remember anything about his own life before 5th grade. My 10 year old son is currently in 5th grade, so that means by his own admission my dad doesn't remember anything from the first decade of his life. So i pivoted to ask some hard hitting questions about his later life. 

My dad's dad died in the Pacific Theater of WWII when my dad was just 2-3 years old so he has no memory of his biological father. Interestingly enough, my father was drafted into the Vietnam War at the tender age of 29, close in age to when his father enlisted in WWII. At the time he was married to my mother and had my oldest brother as a young baby. I noted how this paralleled with his own father's life and circumstances and asked if my dad ever thought about how he was leaving his young wife and new son to go fight in a war he may never come back from, repeating the cycle he himself endured. His answer to me; "Umm... no." Great. So much for wisdom and insight gained from decades of experience. That being said, we still had a lovely time and i think my father appreciated having all his children and grandchildren together in his house, regardless of the fact that it was to celebrate him. And i was happy it all went well and everyone enjoyed themselves cuz that means that by putting this all together i've cemented my place as the favorite child, which hopefully will pay dividends in the family will. Again, i'm the youngest of 6 so i gotta improve my inheritance however i can. 

I picked out this root beer for this review simply based on the name. B.Stiff & Sons Old Fashioned Root Beer is brewed by Oskar Blues Brewery in Longmont, CO. Like many local breweries they mostly deal in brewing beers and lagers but have a small line of craft sodas that they sell as well. I picked up a 6-pack of cans from a Smith's grocery store in West Jordan, UT while visiting my wife's parents a while back. I don't know much else about the brewery or the story of when it started or anything like that. Mostly because i couldn't find it on their website and don't care to look elsewhere on the internet. Some things i am content to remain a mystery to me, like this. And drag queens. I get they have an appeal and i am not negating their talents or passion, but i'm not their target audience. Mostly i think of them the way i think of Olympic curlers. They will grab my attention on first sight because it seems so new and novel. But after a few minutes of watching older men with beer bellies pushing stones and sweeping ice, i usually just end up thinking, "wait... these guys are Olympic athletes? Cuz... they don't look like athletes." And then i lose all interest. Just like drag queens. 

The can is loaded with images of mountain ranges and exhortations to recycle. Along the top of the can near the rim is says, "You can't handle the root!" and along the bottom it says "coloRADo USA". Just some fun little things about it i suppose. Other than that, it has a bland brown and black color scheme and a complete disregard for "one font to rule them all". I grabbed this one partly cuz i am talking about my dad in this post and the name of this is B.Stiff & Sons but also because it's one of the first ones i saw in my fridge. Don't know what the B.Stiff thing is about or why we have to bring his/her sons into this. I think the guy who owns the brewery is named Dale. So i'm missing the connection there, but again, i am too lazy or don't care enough to research it any more because i doubt the answer will be interesting. You know what else isn't all that interesting? The flavor of this root beer. It's a pretty standard root beer, sweetened with can sugar and a basic root beer flavor. It's a little thin and is reminiscent of several generic brands, but the nice thing is that it finishes well and doesn't leave a bad taste in your mouth. Outside of that though, i don't know that anything about this root beer makes it stand out, appealing or memorable. Just like drag queens. 

My official review is that B.Stiff & Sons Old Fashioned Root Beer gets 5 (five) IBCs. Like so so many other root beers, this one is perfectly average. Another bit of text scrawled along the rim of the can says "Nice Floats!" I wouldn't know because i didn't make or drink a float with this but i would imagine it would taste completely and wholly adequate. I don't remember the cost of this but i imagine it wasn't terribly expensive. Outside of that i don't really see a reason to ever get this stuff again. So congrats to you B.Stiff & Sons, you have achieved the height of mediocrity. 

Boots Sarsaparilla Root Beer

I recently heard an insane story that i have to share. Granted, this story is coming to me third-hand and i know none of the people involved. I heard this story from my wife's best friend Shasta. She relayed this tale to us from her sister, and this whole thing supposedly happened to one of Shasta's sister's friends. So with all that preamble i mean to say i didn't do anything more to verify this story than to hear it from Shasta so i can't cop to its veracity. Still, it's that good of a story that i have to pass it along. 
Shasta's teenaged sister has a friend that is a guy. His name is... (totally not making this up on the spot) Jamtillon, a real name. Anyway, Jamtillon is a somewhat shy kid but he has the hots for this girl in their social circle that sounds like should be named Gwendolyn. So Jamtillon works up the courage to ask her out on a first date. 

NOTE: this is a first date. Adds to the insanity. 

Jamtillon asks Gwendolyn to come with him on the Polar Express. Now, we all live in Mesa, AZ, which is a suburb of Phoenix. In Williams, AZ (the small town where i grew up) the Grand Canyon Railroad operates and serves as the lifeblood of that town by attracting tourists from all around the world and offering them an old-timey train ride up to the southern rim of the Grand Canyon for a real authentic 1800's experience. If i'm being reductionist about it i would say it's essentially turning a 1 hour drive into a 2 hour train ride for a fairly nominal fee. Anyway, to make even more money during the Holiday Season the railroad puts on a short 1+ hour ride just outside of town where they read the story of the Polar Express to all the families and kids, many of which are dressed in holiday pajamas. They have cookies and drink hot chocolate and sing songs and do that kind of stuff until they get to "the North Pole", which is just a cardboard cutout town with a few people standing outside and waving. It's both innocent and charming as well as a total waste of money and a humungous racket (again, that's the pessimistic reductionist in me talking). Anyway, it's a perfectly acceptable date except for one crucial fact. Mesa is a 3+ hour drive away from Williams, meaning they have to drive up, do the train ride, get something to eat and drive back. So you throw in a couple pit stops and bathroom breaks and this date (first date) is at minimum a 9-10 hour endeavor. Right there, this thing is doomed from the start.

Anyway, as the story goes, Jamtillon picks up Gwendolyn and begins the drive up to Williams. He is trying to be noble and avoid embarrassment by holding in his farts the whole drive. When he pulls into the train station in Williams he decides to be a gentleman and offers to get out and open the door for his date. But Jamtillon is a clever dog. He really just wants an opportunity to "blow off some steam" while his date sits in the car. What he doesn't account for is that while he walks around the back of his car to open her door, he blows off a lot more than steam. To be blunt, he drops a load in his pants. Panic washes over Jamtillon. This is a bad, bad start. But he recovers quickly when he tells Gwendolyn, "Let's go into the gift shop and get some pajamas to change into for the train!" Gwendolyn tells him she's fine in the clothes they have and doesn't want any pajamas. The train is leaving soon, so he doesn't have a lot of time to act. "Ok, well I'm going to go get some pajamas. Why don't i just meet you on the train?" He watches Gwendolyn board the train and turns to go into the gift shop. He finds a pair of pajama pants, purchases them and then proceeds to the port-a-potty outside because the bathrooms inside are being renovated. Gwendolyn grows concerned as she hears that the train is leaving soon and sees Jamtillon exit the gift shop and head into a port-a-potty. Jamtillon enters the port-a-potty and removes his pants and underwear, throwing them into the toilet as they are "unredeemable". He then unfolds his pajama pants and discovers... it's a sweatshirt. It's not pajama pants at all. He has bought the wrong thing and cannot get his pants and underwear back out of the port-a-potty. Gwendolyn looks around wildly as the train begins to pull out of the station. She keeps her eyes fixed on the port-a-potty until Jamtillon finally emerges. He is wearing the sweatshirt as pants and looks to the window where their seats are to make eye contact with Gwendolyn. And just then, the train pulls away from the station. When Gwendolyn gets back from the trip to the North Pole, Jamtillon is gone. Clearly, this is the only recourse he has at this point. No voicemail or text, no indication that he was coming back. He just ghosts her. She has to call her family to drive the 3+ hours to come pick her up. 

Now... that is the worst first date i've ever heard of, but given all that happened i think that's the only natural conclusion it could possibly have. But again, going back to the fact that this first date is at minimum 9-10 hours, i could have told you from the start that this was going to be a disaster. Which is what i thought about this root beer prior to drinking it. Boots Sarsaparilla Root Beer is brewed and bottled in Bellville, TX. The Boots Beverage Co. began as Bellville Bottling Works and was purchased by a German immigrant named Ambrose Kristen. His image is displayed on the label of the bottle along with a small snippet of the tale of his journey to Texas. Boots has a variety of flavors, each inspired by members of Ambrose's family. Ambrose earned the honor of having the root beer flavor carry his name. 

Looking at this root beer, it has all the apparent signs of a bad root beer. It's not even really trying to look its best or be enticing to people. The label is colorful and professional with all the hallmarks of several generic root beer brands. The root beer itself is also quite pale. And when i cracked the cap, the aroma i get is faintly medicinal. Not a good track record based on other root beers with similar telltale signs. I took one look at this and pegged it for pure trash. But i gotta tell you... i really was taken back by this root beer. This stuff is truly a solid root beer. It's very sweet and creamy, heavy vanilla flavor, and it's sweetened with cane sugar which gives it a nice finish. It almost tastes like a root beer float. 

My official review is that Boots Sarsaparilla Root Beer gets 8 (eight) IBCs. I really would never have looked at this without tasting it and thought it would be a top contender, and yet, here it stands among the greats of root beer. Truly as shocking to me that this is good as i am that Jamtillon would have the hubris to take a girl on a 10 hour first date. And we all see where that landed him... in a mobile toilet wearing a shirt for pants. So i admire the boldness of Boots to determinately stake their place in the root beer pantheon. This one is surprisingly one of the best root beers i've had in a long time.  

Hosmer Mountain Sarsaparilla Root Beer

On a recent visit to Bear Lake, ID for a family reunion i was formally introduced to a game from my wife's childhood called Loopin' Louie. I say formally introduced because i've heard about this game incessantly whilst never having played it on account that the childhood set belonging to my wife's family lay in a tattered box under my bed for the majority of my marriage, filled with half missing/half broken parts. It was, needless to say, useless, and as such, trash. In fact, that is where my wife rescued it from soon after we were married and she discovered that her father had thrown it out. Unrelated, my wife really likes that show Hoarders. She's seen 'em all...

Anyway, it was significant to her because it was a game she played with her now deceased grandfather with whom she had a very loving and close relationship. So i understand that. What i have a harder time understanding is the lore of the game Loopin' Louie itself. For the uninformed, Louie is a middle-aged pilot who is vaguely Germanic looking and flies an old WWI/WWII era prop-plane, and for whatever reason he really really hates chickens. Oh and also, just an aside, when the game is assembled it slightly resembles a swastika. It's a 4 player game of which the object is to protect your chickens from Louie as he blindly follows his innate instinct to fly his plane directly toward them to presumably murder them. Each player is outfitted with a different colored paddle to bump Louie's plane up and over the chicken coop to prevent a grisly death when the chickens met the business end of a propeller. Some members of my wife's family assert that the color of the paddle makes the difference. Several are in the camp of "red always wins", and indeed the winner of the family tournament was using the red paddle to claim victory. But i contested that there was no way red has an advantage. Everyone had the same opportunities and limitations because the game is pretty simplistic at the core. Yes, the only hope we had was to nudge Louie out of the way on his murderous tirade and hopefully guide him toward our opponents, inwardly hoping the death of their chickens will satiate his bloodlust for at least a few moments. But it never will... It never ever will... Louie just loops around and around to tag each chicken coop again and again. He just loops. He loops and he loops. He's Loopin' Louie. And he won't rest until every chicken is dead. Every... last... one. 
While the question of Louie's motive quickly jumps to mind and whose answer is still a mystery, i found a more interesting line of inquiry when my brother-in-law posited the question of what role we the players had in this debauchery. Were we farmers trying to protect our flocks from an insane pilot in the early stages of dementia? Were we the chickens fearing for our own lives and narrowly escaping (and sometimes not) the stinging blades of death raining down from the heavens above? But the answer, i told my brother-in-law, is so much simpler than that. You see, we're the paddles. We don't control the paddles, we ARE the paddles. It's plain to see. It doesn't matter what color you are because Louie only sees one color. Red. Not the red paddle, the color of blood. And once you realize that, only then can you truly understand Loopin' Louie. 

Like my wife with this game, i have a long and sordid relationship with the root beer. I wouldn't call this my white whale but it's been on my most wanted list for sure. I can't remember when i first even heard of this root beer but it's been at least 5 or 6 years. That makes it sound like this is some legendary root beer of yore, and i don't intend to ascribe it that. I simply mean that this is one that i have heard of but i have found difficult to find through my regular channels. Hosmer Mountain Sarsaparilla Root Beer is brewed and bottled in Willimantic, CT. This is one of an extensive line of sodas crafted by the folks at Hosmer Mountain Springs Bottling Co. The company has a long history in the area and began making sodas in 1948. It started as a family business and i think it is still run by the sons of the guy who started it. I will give them credit for longevity and adapting the business as the times dictated. And i know i'm late to the game with this one and all, but they point to a specific root beer review for confirmation of their standing within the industry, and i just gotta say... come on... we all have the same credibility here. This is just a vanity project. No one takes these things seriously, but if they did then this is really the only review that should affect the layout of your website, that's all i'm saying. 

The shape of the glass bottle is fun, it's a little different, dare i say elegant even. I like the old school paper and glue label, sticking to the old ways of doing things. The clear glass gives me a good look at how pale looking this root beer appears, though it may be no different than others. When i cracked the cap i got very little aroma and most of the carbonation escaped leaving this on the more flat side of the beverage. Not my favorite thing, but it does well to make up with the taste. This soda is sweetened with both white and brown sugar and flavored with a sarsaparilla extract. The label calls this a sarsaparilla root beer but they also offer a sarsaparilla flavored soda in their line. I wonder if any distinction is made other than the name or if they simply are identical in taste and only differ in the marketing. Regardless though, that's a good classic flavor for root beer. It feels a little thin, but still has a refreshing finish to it. I would say that by any reasonable standard this is a solid root beer. 

My official review is that Hosmer Mountain Sarsaparilla Root Beer gets 7 (seven) IBCs. This is a close contender for a score of 8, but i think it just lacks the little something to nudge it over the edge. Solid showing though, really showcasing the abilities of the Hosmer Mountain Bottling Co. I'd be very interested to try more or their 30 flavors of beverages. And perhaps if Louie had refreshed himself with a cold Hosmer Mountain beverage it may have finally abated the carnage he is destined to unfold upon all chicken-kind.

But it never will. It never ever will. Cuz Louie? Well... he's just gonna keep loopin'.

Zia Root Beer

From Aug 2000 to Aug 2002 I lived in Ontario, Canada while serving a mission for the church I was raised in. I was in my early 20’s at the time and for a 9 month stretch I lived in a medium sized city called Burlington right on the shores of not-so-beautiful Lake Ontario. Our days consisted of a pretty regimented schedule of tasks and duties, one of our mandates being to provide service to the communities we were placed in for a few hours a week. We did service for individuals and organizations in a number of different ways, including visiting elderly people and assisting in nursing homes, volunteering at food banks and blood donation centers, a lot of cleaning and organizing of personal homes and storage spaces, and being in Canada we did a fair share of snow shoveling. But one of the most memorable people we provided service for was a man named Hassan. At the time he seemed so much older to me but he was probably only in his mid 50s at the time. He was an immigrant from an Arab nation, I don’t remember which, who had grown children but lived alone and was basically house bound. He stayed in his small apartment on the top floor of a 3-story walkup and I don’t recall ever seeing him go outside at all. I don’t even think he had a TV, though he may have had one in his bedroom. When we were in his apartment he would just sit in his chair and chain smoke while we talked. I image it was that way when we were not there as well. We would do simple things for him, like collect his mail and run small errands. When he discovered I had my own set of hair clippers he requested that I begin cutting his hair at regular intervals, and by cut his hair I mean he just wanted me to buzz his head. English was his second language, if not third or fourth, and he didn’t have a very good grasp of it. He called me Krumy-nicker, a phonetic spelling of the way he would say my last name (hint: roll the “r” at the beginning for the authentic experience). He would endearingly refer to my set of hair clippers simply as “the machine”, and I still find it endlessly amusing when he would ask for a haircut on our next visit by simply saying, “Krumy-nicker, can you bring the machine?”. Grocery shopping for Hassan was always the same. He would send us to get 1-2 loaves of processed white bread and a case of Pepsi from the basic grocery store down the road. Additionally, he would send us to a small shop in a strip mall which sold halal foods. We would present a piece of paper with his order to the person at the counter and they would hand us back a clear bag containing what I can only describe as a few lumps of sweaty cheese soaking in brine and filth. That’s all this guy ate, ever. He once asked me to go get him cigarettes, and when I told him we wouldn’t buy those for him it was the only time I saw him get upset with us. But it passed quickly and he was generally grateful for our visits and our help and we developed a nice relationship with him. Three times I thought I may be transferred from that area to another town and each time I told him he broke into tears, including the time I really did get transferred. He would give me a big embrace at the end of our visits and would tell me, “Krumy-nicker… I love you too much.” I will always remember him and the strange but comfortable relationship we had together. I respected him and he appreciated us. I heard he had passed away a few years after I had come back home, which was 20 years ago this August.

That story really has nothing to do with the root beer I am reviewing today. I just figured it needed to be written down somewhere so I don’t forget it. But like Hassan, I was a stranger in a not-so-strange land when I tried Zia Root Beer. My wife (and kids) presented this root beer to me on Father’s Day this year while stopping at my in-laws house in West Jordan, UT on our way up to Bear Lake, ID for a family reunion. She said she picked it up at the local Smith’s grocery store there, though the bottle says this root beer hails from New Mexico. The very visually pleasing label is adorned with several Native American symbols common to the New Mexico region. Zia Root Beer is just one of several, uh… unique flavors offered by the Zia Beverage Co. using ingredients local to the area, like prickly pear cactus and piñon nuts. In fact, the root beer flavor is steeped with ingredients like yucca root, anise, mint and cloves. Sounds delicious, right? Hold on to that thought while we dig in a little more.

What exactly is yucca root? Turns out it’s basically a type of potato. Does it make for a good flavor in a “root” beer? In my expert opinion, the answer is a hard no. 

Though the initial crack of the cap released a fairly pleasant aroma of root beer, the flavor was heavy on the anise/licorice, heavy on a Necco wafer taste (but only the bad ones), and lacks almost any actual traditional root beer flavor. The ingredients say this also contains vanilla but I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that. Additionally, it was nearly flat but still packed a little sting in my mouth that was neither irritating nor satisfying. They use natural cane sugar to sweeten it and I get small hints of mint that I had to search for after reading the list of ingredients. Overall though, it just tastes bad. Someone more familiar with the root may simply say this root beer tastes like yucca, to which I reply, “you can say that again.” This stuff is yucca for sure. 

My official review is that Zia Root Beer gets 3 (three) IBCs. I like the label and the idea of the fun and funky regional flavors, but just because it’s called a yucca root does not mean it translates into a root beer. Overall the taste in my mouth just feels dirty, even a little gritty. Perhaps those yucca roots need to be washed a little more before throwing them into the brew. So the score is mainly based off the originality and the fun label doing the heavy lifting because the flavor just aint bringin it. My suggestion would be that if you are dead set on using yucca you might need to find some more complimentary secondary ingredients. Dial back the clove, dial back the licorice and find a way to make this something I would ever consider getting again because as it stands now this is a one and done situation.