Friday, November 25, 2011

Black and Tan Friday

As you can see, it’s been over a year since I’ve updated here. I can make excuses for all the reasons I’ve been lazy. New job. The Wife works late and I have a lot of stuff to do around the house. Whatever. They’re all true. And they’re all excuses.

But regardless, I’ve always meant to write something about what I’m eating/drinking/doing. So even though the title of this blog might seem a bit narrow given the my passion for wine, food and beer—order not indicative of preference—I’m going to try to make this little corner of the interweb a place where I blab about all of them.

Today is Black Friday. Now, given that I’ve been to business school, I know that the term comes from the fact that today, the start of holiday shopping hysteria, typically turns a retailer’s year from the red to the black, or profitable. But for those that weren’t aware of the origination of the term, please go on calling it African American Friday as not to offend anyone.

My holiday shopping is done from home, from the comfort of my computer, comforted by a tasty adult beverage. The only time I’ll venture out to the mall this time of year is when I’m sure that my destination gift wraps. Without that service, I’ll keep my competitive shopping avoidance skills up my sleeve.



But alas, we’re not shopping today. Treasa and I are taste testing within the bounds of the holiday spirit though. We’re comparing Yuenling Black and Tan and Saranac Black and Tan.

I really like each of these beers and will buy each of them again. The Yuenling is the more mild of the pair. The Yuenling Lager seems to come through. It’s thicker than a ‘typical’ beer, but has a thinner feel than the Saranac. Treasa liked it best. This was fine with me as I preferred the Saranac. It was more robust. It had more of a malted prominence, reminiscent of the Irish stout it’s made with. To me, I thought it was more of a porter-ish flavor, but I’ll trust the brew master on this one. Because of its complexity, it would make a wonderful leisurely afternoon beer, which it did.

The afternoon went on, and we kept trading off sips on each other’s beers. It was a good system until Treasa accused me of stealing the last sip of her beer. She responded by drinking the last swig of mine, to which I responded, ‘Aha! Now that’s the pot calling the kettle African American!’