Once were the days when I could pull my rusty old Ford F-150 into the gas station parking lot on a Friday night, $40 bucks left in my payday pocket, and I’m looking to chug a few 40 ouncers of the cheap, good stuff with my fellow-coworkers: Pure, unadulterated, U.S. Grade A Malt Liquor.
Those were the days. Memories.
It appears that the big City boys and their fancy cars, their fancy glassware and their up-turned noses and lofty phraseology, have now bastardized an American classic.
Here you have it.
Barrel-Aged Malt Liquor. Aged in Bourbon nonetheless, as that is the new rage. Not good enough to ruin wine, not it must poison the liquor.
I love the tasting notes:
“Corn is heavy upfront, but the addition of floral hops and the smoothness of vanilla and wood from the barrels makes this classic style something worthy of exploring once again . . . .”
But nay, it cannot be enjoyed chugged out of a can. They recommend a snifter as the appropriate glassware. Not to be paired with gas station pizza and Doritos, either. Hours d’oevres and chocolates are the recommended pairing.
Robert, I can tell you’re upset, but I have found the wine for you. It may just calm your Rolland-savaged nerves. Rhone mix (80% syrah, the rest petit syrah, mouvedre and grenache), 35% whole clusters for little of your stem fetish, only 48% new oak.