beverage of the week – Syndication Server

Suerte’s canned tequila cocktails are basic in a good way

Except for the ranch water, which is 33 percent too simple.

Welcome back to FTW’s Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.

In the land of canned cocktails, tequila is crown regent.

There’s something about the agave-based spirit that seems to adjust to aluminum preservation better than whiskey, vodka or gin. Maybe it’s the brighter mixers that tend to accompany these cocktails. Zesty citrus travels well, and in a simple drink like a margarita or paloma it’s allowed to shine a little more brightly than in a more complex beverage.

Either way, tequila makes for an easy to-go drink. Suerte saw this as an opportunity — a way to bring its tequila to new audiences while highlighting how it mixes. Each of the company’s three canned cocktails features its tequila blanco, clocking in at a line-straddling balance between hard seltzer and high gravity at seven percent alcohol by volume (ABV).

I’m not super familiar with Suerte, but I’m happy to give it a try. Let’s see how it turns out.

Margarita: A-

It pours with a little more effervescence than you’d expect from a margarita, but that’s a feature, not a bug in the world of canned cocktails. It smells strong. The first whiff off the top is buttery tequila blanco. Even though it’s only seven percent ABV, it feels heavier.

Fortunately, the first sip leans in a different direction. The tequila is prevalent, but not overwhelming. Instead, the headliner is crisp, tart lime. This isn’t citric acid, which leaves a bready aftertaste behind. This is the real thing, which gives the impression of a fresh made cocktail. That tartness fights with the agave nectar a bit, releasing a sweet-and-sour braid that serves as the barge that floats the Suerte tequila along.

That tequila is clean and tasty, a light rush of baked agave and minor hints of spice. By those powers combined, you get a refreshing, easy to sip canned cocktail that offers something poundable for someone looking for a quick pre-game drink and a little complexity for someone looking for something to drink over the course of a half hour.

It loses a bit of its charm out of the can — pouring it over ice allows the lime and tequila to shine a bit brighter. Sipping from that aluminum is more of a “B” experience. But with a little preparation this is an A- cocktail — not quite elite, but pretty dang good.

Paloma: B

It pours a faint pink and smells both boozy and juicy. At 160 calories you’re getting a little more natural juice than your typical slim can cocktail and a noticeable uptick in booze at seven percent compared to the usual five. There’s a certain amount of… I guess for me it’s chewable vitamin vibes that come with the smell of canned grapefruit. It’s not my favorite, but it’s not a bad thing.

The first sip starts strong and finishes sweet. The grapefruit is pleasantly balanced between sweet and sour like the lime in the margarita before it. The tequila is notable but not harsh, imbuing the cocktail with a healthy amount of agave, though it could be a little more flavorful. There’s even a dry finish; nothing compared to a salted rim, but enough to snap off each sip after it leaves your tongue.

There’s nothing about it that really stands out. It’s just a solid, simple cocktail — bubble water, grapefruit, tequila. It’s dry but crushable. Strong but not overpowering. Clean and crisp. A perfectly cromulent drink.

Ranch Water: C+

There are only two ingredients here, carbonated water and tequila blanco. Not even a squeeze of lime! Well, it smells as boozy as you’d expect. It’s bubbly, light tequila after all.

And, yep, that’s all it is. The tequila is solid enough. It’s tangy and a little sweet. It doesn’t burn despite the ramp up to seven percent ABV. It’s simple and moderately low calorie (120) and totally fine. It’s not my cup of tea, but it’s not a problem either.

I kinda wish I had a lime. But no, no, this is fine. It’s fine.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

This a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Suerte’s canned cocktails over a cold can of Hamm’s?

The margarita for sure. The paloma isn’t too bad either, though it wouldn’t be the first thing I reach for in the fridge. The ranch water wasn’t my style, but it was well made even if I was looking for a bit more flavor.

Breckenridge’s Christmas Ale doesn’t taste very festive, just malty and pretty dang drinkable

Plus, Shock Top’s Twisted Pretzel … is makin’ me thirsty.

December is the perfect time for a spiced beer. Like most of Christmas-time’s indulgences, it’s rich, vaguely unhealthy and a little overwhelming. These beers aren’t anytime beers, even if they still hold up for a bottle or two come March. They’re best consumed slowly recovering from eating a dozen reindeer-shaped sugar cookies on a couch, testing the limits of how far your stomach can stretch.

My go-to in the category is Great Lakes’ Christmas Ale; a beer so good it effectively stopped me from looking for other examples. Milwaukee Brewing Company’s Plowed In winter ale hit the spot as well, but their beers have exited the circle of trust since their buyout. Either way, there’s an issue here. Costco doesn’t sell either of these in five-liter kegs.

Breckenridge, however, is a December staple between bulk underpants and rotisserie chickens across the concrete floors of America’s finest warehouse retailer. The Colorado-based brewer has several recognizable beers, but their Christmas Ale extends the biggest reach — it’s too seasonal to be a flagship ale, but it’s unmistakable on liquor and oversized shopping store aisles alike.

Is it worth dropping $15 to $20 on a little keg that holds roughly 15 beers? Let’s find out.

Oh, and let’s see is Shock Top’s Twisted Pretzel Ale is any good, too. Tis the season, after all.

Breckenridge Christmas Ale: B+

It pours a dark caramel with a slow-forming head that rises up to about a quarter of an inch before slowly receding to a thin tan line. It’s all malt coming off the top of the pour with a little bit of allspice and maybe some nutmeg toward the end. That’s awesome for me; I love a malty beer. It’s not exactly what I’m used to from a Christmas Ale, but I’m not about to complain.

That malt remains the headliner, creating a dense but ultra smooth sip carried away by carbonation that isn’t quite crisp but very notable. It gives way to a little pale hoppiness. Nothing is bitter, but it is a bit bready.

The spices you’d expect aren’t there. That’s a bit of a bummer for a holiday ale, but it doesn’t stop the beer from succeeding. It drinks much lighter than its 7.1 percent alcohol by volume suggests. It’s still a heavier beer, owing to that density, but at no point does it feel like more of a chore than your average lager.

Without those spices, it’s very replayable. The roasted malt makes it better for colder months, but there isn’t anything especially festive. It’s just a well made beer that does a great job with the flavors I like most from my brews.

That said, a littttttle spice wouldn’t hurt fulfill the promise of the “Christmas” in big letters on the front of the bottle.

Shock Top Twisted Pretzel: B+

Speaking of malty things you’d find at Oktoberfest, here’s Shock Top’s newest seasonal. Pretzels and beer are a no brainer combination, and a wheat beer is an easy palette to drop some salty, doughy goodness into. Shock Top isn’t exactly a favorite of mine — I think the last time I had it was as a $2 beer in grad school — but I’ll admit you could do much, much worse at your local draft house.

It pours a color true to its inspiration, dark brown with a white ring of foam that lingers at the top. It smells — wow — salty. A bit like a pretzel but more like bar popcorn. If you closed your eyes and someone placed this in front of you, you’d think it was some moderately fresh kernels hastily scooped into a paper boat. I’ve never smelled a beer like this and, honestly, it’s kinda great.

The first sip is malt and salt and sweet and, hot damn I do not know why or how but it works. This is a weird beer that leaves behind a true pretzel aftertaste. It’s dry and, in the spirit of Cosmo Kramer, feels meant to leave you thirsty. But it’s bready and light at the same time, making it extremely drinkable for a darker ale.

It’s a nice effect to wash away the pale wheat that opens each sip. Instead of a lemon, you get a different kind of bar staple. It’s toasty and unique and, man, this was a weird swing that really worked out for Shock Top. Like the Breckenridge there isn’t much to set it off as a holiday seasonal, but it stands out nonetheless.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

This a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Breckenridge’s Christmas Ale or Shock Top’s Twisted Pretzel over a cold can of Hamm’s?

Yeah, I could mix these two into my routine without issue. Neither will supplant Great Lakes atop my Christmas beer wishlist, but that’s just because I do like those festive spices a few times per year. Both the Christmas Ale and Twisted Pretzel offer more replay value in warmer months. The latter in particular feels like a fun fall beer for here on out.

Berczy’s spiked teas don’t really taste like tea, but still work out OK

Berczy does a great job of hiding its booze content, but the result doesn’t always taste like tea.

Welcome back to FTW’s Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage (or food) that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.

It was a little strange when Berczy waded into the hard seltzer market. This was a brand that prided itself on its London roots despite the fact that, well, why would we care about a London-based White Claw? It’s not like the British Isles are known for their commitment to fizzy water.

Tea, on the other hand? OK, that makes waaaaay more sense. I trust someone in Great Britain to know the hell out of what makes a good tea and how to booze it up properly.

That’s the Venn diagram in which Berczy is trying to land square in the middle. That’s a delicate balance, especially for a company whose seltzers were reasonable, but not great. Tea provides a softer backdrop capable of covering up some of the flaws laid bare by the brand’s uninspired flavors.

Does it work?

Lemon tea: C+

It pours with a stage whiskey color and little carbonation thanks to the promise of “gentle bubbles” on the can. It smells like lemon tea but there’s no denying the vodka lurking underneath. It’s not overpowering, but it’s more noticeable than your typical High Noon vodka soda. At 7 percent ABV, that makes sense.

The tea itself is sharp and tart. The lemon is a bit overpowering, coming off right from the first sip and lingering for a decent while after it’s cleared your throat. The tea is minimal; it’s a low current that staggers underneath but never really stands out on its own. The finish itself is a bit stale and dry, but nothing that would turn you away from it.

That leaves this stuck between sour lemonade and tea. It’s easy enough to drink and doesn’t feel especially boozy. There’s a bit of a disconnect since the lemon is so sharp, but it’s still fine.

You could crush a few of these at a tailgate, especially on a warm day. But if you’re looking for tea you may be disappointed.

Peach tea: B-

There’s way more fizz involved here, which makes me think maybe my lemon can was maybe a little more dinged up than I realized. The scent off the top is straight peach gummy rings with a solid iced tea imprint. On those merits alone, it seems like an easier sell than the lemon tea, which was decent but unusual. All I’d like from this is big, dumb sweet tea flavors and a decent supply of booze.

Once again the fruit flavor is the headliner on the first sip. The peach is easier to drink than the lemon, owing to its sweetness rather than a sour profile.

The bubbles leave little to snack on once you take a swig, but that’s a benefit with a tea rather than a bug. Toward the end of each sip you get a little bit of that vodka, but nothing close to a burn. Instead, it’s a soft reminder we’re dealing with adult iced tea.

That tea does clock in a little more notably than in the lemon flavor, even if it’s still not as obvious as I’d like. The sweetness of the peach leaves you with a sloppier finish than the dry lemon, but the aftertaste is minimal and fades quickly. It’s a little worse over ice — watering down that flavor, coincidentally, tends to bring out more of the vodka flavor — but again, it’s drinkable.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

This is a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Berczy’s hard teas over a cold can of Hamm’s?

There’s something to be said about the extra booze here and how well Berczy covers it up. Their hard teas are a weird mix, but never an unpleasant one. I’d have one of these at a tailgate, sure. But I’d switch back to Hamm’s soon after.

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Red Bull’s sugar free watermelon and strawberry apricot are simple energy drink perfection

No, it doesn’t taste like fresh fruit. Which is exactly what I want from my energy drinks.

I was a little afraid of Red Bull at first. Granted, this was 2002 and I’d just been diagnosed with a heart murmur that kept me from running cross country in college (not anywhere good, mind you). There was a concern, in the back of my brain, that the caffeine could short circuit me, lead to palpitations, whatever.

This was, of course, silly. Red Bull may have pioneered the energy drink marketplace, but it’s not excessively energetic. Its 80 milligrams of caffeine per can feels quaint next to the 300 milligram payloads of competitors like Rockstar or C4, though those come in a larger serving size.

This shifted my concern about Red Bull elsewhere; to its calorie content. In my early 20s I traded regular Coke for Diet Coke, understanding I no longer had the metabolism to fire down a pound of sugar each day without spilling over the top of my cargo pants or stretching the limits of whatever already-thin 1980s-era t-shirt I’d happened to find at the thrift store that week. Red Bull only had one sugar-free option for a long time, and it was in the classic, ground-up SweetTarts flavor.

Finally, there is rain in that desert. Red Bull debuted new sugar-free options this summer, a standby energy drink flavor (watermelon) and a new twist I haven’t seen before (strawberry apricot). Together, they promise a coffee-adjacent jolt without the shame of dropping four Splendas into a cup.

So do these new, fancier Red Bulls reinvent the genre? Or are they the artificial tasting, slightly acidic and totally poundable monsters we’ve come to love and appreciate? Or are they, in fact, bad?

Well, only one way to find out.

Watermelon: A

It smells and looks exactly like you’d expect a watermelon energy drink; like candy and neon red. There’s obviously value in having flavors that are true to the source, but when it comes to jump-starting my day with caffeine and taurine I’m not looking for organic garden flavors. I want a drink that tastes like someone blended up a bunch of sour gummies.

Red Bull thoroughly crushes it on that metric. The sweetness here is full bodied despite the reliance on sugar substitutes. There’s a gentle acidic tartness that snaps that off before it gets overpowering, leaving you a nice balance that keeps you coming back for more.

That’s sorta all there is to it. The carbonation helps enhance that balance between sweet and sour. It’s exactly what I’d hoped.

Strawberry Apricot: A-

A new challenger emerges! Apricot is a terribly underserved fruit in the beverage business — especially one that constantly tries to make passion fruit a thing even though it tastes like old rubber.

This also smells and pours familiar — though instead of candy, this is strawberry Fanta all the way. The bright pink liquid is both troubling and reassuring, and I gotta hand it to whichever food scientists handled the dyes for this round of sugar free drinks. They look awesome.

The taste, like the smell, is much more strawberry forward than apricot. But you do get that peach-adjacent flavor toward the end, adding a nice twist at the end of a simple sip. There’s no mitigating citric acid here to balance things out, so you get sweet-on-sweet before there’s a little bit of earthy apricot to round things out.

I drank the watermelon and strawberry apricot back-to-back on a coffee-less morning and honestly feel kinda great. 160 milligrams of caffeine is my sweet spot — enough to brighten my eyes, not enough to discount another energy drink or Coke or whatever later on.

I’m not sure it qualifies as “wings,” but I’m less tired and not jittery. I just feel like I got the extra hour of sleep I missed out on when I woke up at 4 am to think about whether or not my high school crush ever liked me back and I was just too oblivious to notice it.

I think the answer is that she did. I’ll never know. Drink Red Bull.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

I’d drink it on the way to the tailgate to ensure I’m alert for the eight Hamm’s I’m about to drink before UW-Platteville and Wartburg kick off, I can tell you that much.

Komos doesn’t taste like a premium tequila, and that’s a bummer

Komos has gorgeous bottles and a hefty price tag. Can it live up to that standard?

You’ve probably seen Komos tequilas before, even if you don’t realize it. They’re the premium-priced Mexican spirit in ceramic bottles that look either like an elongated bell or the Iron Sheik’s old Persian clubs, depending on how old and/or wrestling-infected your brain is.

My press kit didn’t come with those big, beautiful bottles, which makes a lot of sense because shipping $400 of alcohol through the mail is a pretty big risk. But I still wound up with three of Komos’s best sellers — a reposado aged in wine casks, a cristalino that leans into the growing trend of purer, clearer tequilas and an anejo. A quick run through my local Woodman’s suggests the price on these fifths *starts* at a shade over $100, which, hooooo buddy.

Can Komos live up to that price tag? There’s only one way to find out.

Reposado Rosa: C+

Let’s start with the tequila that’s closest to my beloved bourbon. A barrel aged reposado offers a mellower sip thanks to oaky flavors imparted from a few months of barrel-aging. You get a little bit of that from the smell wafting off the pour. It’s buttery, a little fruity and a little spicy. It doesn’t seem especially fancy, but that’s tough to parse from a sniff alone.

The first sip is sweet and fruity. There’s a little burn toward the end. The space between is … kinda hollow. There’s a place there for spice or vanilla or oak or stone fruit and instead you just get a little pale agave and not much else.

The end result is a bit generic. For a spirit aged in French wine casks you don’t get much of that influence. It’s not bad by any means, it’s just not anything you’d remember after the fact. “Have you tried Komos?” “Yes.” “How was it?” “Tequila.”

That’s not a problem, except, well, you probably want more for $130 per bottle. It’s just sorta boring.

Anejo Cristalino: C+

It pours clear as expected. There’s a little patchy stickiness on the side of the glass, It lacks the buttery, fruity smell of the Reposado Rosa. It’s a little boozy but, strangely, doesn’t smell like tequila. Between that and the lack of color, there’s a minor vodka vibe to this. Dig your nose in a little deeper and you get some roasted fruit, which is pleasant.

There’s a sweet and buttery undercurrent that moves this along. It’s a little sugary and sharp, but not harsh. There’s more vanilla here than I expected, especially after the barrel-aged reposado didn’t offer much.

Ultimately, it’s a bit basic. I like it, but there’s little to focus on here. It’s a perfectly fine $40 tequila that’ll cost you $100 per bottle. There’s just not much do it, but it doesn’t burn so … that’s something.

Anejo Reserve: B

This pours a richer shade of mahogany. It smells similar to the other two Komos in that it’s not especially rich or tequila-y.

Fortunately, it breaks from the rest of the pack when it gets to your lips. There’s a fresh, crisp agave flavor that leans into sugar and spice, creating a warm impression that lingers long after it’s cleared your tongue. There’s vanilla weaved into that braid, along with a little cinnamon to give everything more depth than we’d seen before.

That gives it much more sippable replay than the other two. It’s still slightly underwhelming for a $100 bottle, but this is the most justifiable purchase of the three. It’s got dessert flavors that linger throughout each dram, giving you something to think about from the moment it hits your lips to when it clears your uvula.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

If they were cheaper, sure. But at $100-plus dollars per bottle, I’m all set.

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Bawi Agua Fresca is juicy, bubbly water that works when its base flavors are brightest

There’s a fine line between seltzer and soda. Bawi walks it well.

There’s a dense middle ground between full-send, high fructose corn syrup sodas and their zero-calorie counterparts. That’s where Bawi Agua Fresca set up camp.

Agua frescas are not something I’m especially familiar with having lived north of the Mason-Dixon line the majority of my life. They’re a combination of a little bit of sugar, water and then grains, seeds or, most often, fruit juices. The combination creates a lighter, sweeter drink than a straight-up juice. And also, horchata, which it turns out also hits that agua fresca standard.

Bawi doesn’t offer horchata, a drink I still haven’t figured out whether I like or not. But the Austin, Texas-based company brings three classic flavors to its mix pack — pina (pineapple), limon (lime) and maracuya (passion fruit). Let’s dig in and see if they can offer big taste and refreshing sips at a reasonable calorie count.

Pina (Pineapple): B+

This pours a pleasant light yellow and with a small, but dense head that suggests there’s a fair amount of juice involved. At 60 calories compared to 40 for the other flavors, the nutritional facts back this up. Ope, and right there on the can it says 33 percent fruit juice. Well, there you go.

The smell off the top of the pour is pineapple, but it’s muted with a bit of a … melted butter scent? A little weird, but maybe that’s just me.

The first sip is crisp and clean. The pineapple is well balanced with the carbonated water, allowing it to make its mark without sticking around for a sloppy aftertaste. The bubbles come and get it, avoiding the aftertaste that can come with a sugary juice like pineapple.

That juice does a lot even though it’s a minority in the drink. It’s tart up front before dissolving into something sweeter before that dry finish. It’s not as sugary as a soda but has much more flavor than a seltzer, making it a viable middle ground between the two. It’s a tightrope, but Bawi walks it well.

Limon (Lime): B

Rather than the bready, citric acid scent of artificially flavored lime seltzers, Bawi smells fresher and cleaner than its closest comparison. It’s the Outkast version of a La Croix.

That lime juice is as tart as you’d expect. A little sweetener could turn this into a limeade. You do get that acidic tang up front, but like the pineapple it’s tempered by the bubbles around it. In this case, instead of softening a sweet, syrupy juice the carbonation teams up with the lime to give this the kind of bite of which Barq’s root beer could only dream.

Again, you’re left with a drink that has too much flavor for a seltzer and not enough sweetness to be a soda. And, again, Bawi does a solid job balancing the two sides. This would probably be great with a shot of tequila and some triple sec dropped in. But on its own, it’s pretty solid too.

Maracuya (Passion fruit): N/A

Look, I don’t like passion fruit. I don’t think I can rationally review this. It’s acidic and sour and, like most passion fruit flavored things, tastes a little rubbery and stale.

But hey, if you can handle passion fruit, have at it. It’s sour and tangy and a little tough to drink. That’s about as far as I can take you.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

Yeah. I’m a little bummed my mix pack had passion fruit and not guava, Bawi’s other flavor. But I enjoyed the pineapple and lime, both of which were acidic and tart and clean and sweet in stages. Paired with crisp carbonation, Bawi is a solid soda replacement for folks who, reasonably, don’t think most seltzers actually taste like anything.

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Mango Shotta is sweet and spicy and just a little too much

Tequila with mango and jalapeno. What could go wrong?

My experience with tequila as a shot ruined it for me through my formative drinking years. Still, few spirits quite thrive 1.5 ounces at a time like Mexico most famous export. Only bourbon comes close.

Shots are no place for subtlety. As a result, we’ve seen an influx in flavored versions of these liquors. They’re infused with fruits or spices or, somehow, peanut butter or barbeque sauce. This is all an effort to leave a distinct impression once chilled down and slugged in a second or less.

That brought me to Mango Shotta (don’t worry, Chica-Chida peanut butter tequila, your time here is coming soon). The Sazerac-backed liqueur makes sense at face value; a tropical spirit blended with tropical flavors — in this case, tequila with mango and jalapeno peppers.

I’m generally a big fan of sweet and spicy drinks (my local brewery had a very good chocolate habanero stout before the whole place took a turn. I won’t name names, but if you’re in Wisconsin you can probably make a reasonable guess). But there’s a fine line that needs to be walked for the whole thing to work.

Does Mango Shotta balance on that razor’s edge? Or will it be too sweet, too spicy or too messy to stand out? Let’s pour a glass and find out.

Straight up: C

This smells … interesting. I brought it up to my nose and literally said “oooh.” There’s fruit and spice, like a fresh cut jalapeno dropped into concentrated juice. Underneath that spice is more spice, as the agave of the tequila lingers even at 52 proof.

“I gotta be honest, that tastes like my college frat,” the friend I poured a fellow shot for. He’s not wrong. There’s a lot going on here; some creamy mango, then spice. A few different levels that linger long after it clears your lips. It’s a little thick and sticky, which makes it at least a little off-putting.

The aftertaste is syrupy sweet, battling it out with the capsaicin of the pepper inside. It’s a nice idea, but it’s a bit too sloppy for my liking. There’s a lot of “this is what I had on hand to make this bottle of Pepe Lopez more tolerable” in the process.

Maybe a little ice will thin it out and make it better. Let’s see.

On ice: C+

OK, this smells better up front. The spice is a little more muted, which gives off less of a “I’m drinking pepper spray” vibe.

Still, the first sip is more jalapeno than mango. The sweetness lingers, but it’s stuck in a battle with that heat. The good news is you’re not getting any bad tequila burn here. The bad news is you’re getting a different heat and it’s a little weird.

I’m happy to give Mango Shotta credit for its originality. It’s nothing I’ve seen before in the bottle space. But it’s not for me. Too thick, too sticky, too schizophrenic in its execution. It’s not undrinkable, and it might be your jam. But this bottle’s gonna get brought to a tailgate and conveniently forgotten afterward.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

No thanks. I might do a chilled shot if everyone else is, but without peer pressure I’ll stick to my beer.

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Costco has its own barrel-aged vintage ale now. Is it any good?

Pairing with Deschutes and a $10 price tag makes it an easy pickup. Is it worth it?

At some point in your life, you let down your guard. You embrace the mundane, because trends are exhausting. You find the truest, safest spot in a weary world; the Costco food court.

My salvation came, as it does for most of us, around the time my child arrived. A labyrinth of bright colors and free samples were enough to keep her occupied. Trips began with a hot dog and three to four Diet Pepsis and ended with soft serve and possibly a second hot dog. Judgment does not exist between the concrete floors and fluorescent lights of Costco; it is merely a place to exhale in between bouts of frustration with snack mongers setting a manatee’s pace between each sample station.

This quiet sense of security bred an appreciation of all things Kirkland Signature, Costco’s in-house brand. It began, as it does for many of us, with handles of booze that clocked in at $12 and tasted suspiciously like the more famous brands whose labels they aped. It expanded from there, reaching its pinnacle the moment I truly became a dad: when I purchased Kirkland brand sweatpants.

With my Costco alliances laid bare, it’s time to get to the meat of today’s review. There is a barrel-aged Kirkland Signature stout on shelves across our great nation. Unlike the spirits you have to sip before debating where they’d been distilled, this vintage ale offers no such mystery.

It’s a collaboration with Deschutes, the Oregon brewery responsible for trusted airport tap beers like the Fresh Squeezed IPA. More germane to this conversation, however, is their The Abyss imperial stout — a brew with tremendous reviews on Beer Advocate and a glowing sigil of hope that, once again, a Costco house brand might be secretly awesome.

Will the 2024 vintage live up to that lofty standard? Let’s dig in.

2024 Kirkland Bourbon Barrel-Aged Imperial Stout Vintage Ale: B

It pours the expected heavy black. From the depths bubbles a creamy, tan ring of foam that lingers long after the beer has settled. It smells pleasant, but a little light. There are a few signs this is a 12 percent ABV brew, but it’s not overpowering from the top of the pour itself. It looks more like a heavy, seven-to-eight percent stout.

The first sip itself isn’t especially complex. It’s a little smoky, a little heavy and very smooth. Like the scent bubbling off the pour, there’s little here to suggest it’s as boozy as it is. It also feels much lighter than it pours; the texture here is almost effervescent and easy to drink, which is not something you’d expect from a barrel-aged beer with this gravity.

Part of that is because you aren’t getting much of the bourbon influence in each sip. You get a little bit of that grain and the warmth that comes with it — there’s a sweet rye feel for sure — but it’s not as pronounced as some of the other beers in this genre. That leaves it to come off lighter than, say, Goose Island’s winter Bourbon County offerings.

That might be a bummer to some. It’s slightly generic, which doesn’t mean it’s bad, just that it’s gonna leave a few beer nerds hanging. You get some solid porter notes here — roasted chocolate and a little bit of coffee — but nothing overpowering. It’s more of a broad appeal beer than some of the other bourbon-barrel stouts out there. That makes sense, even if I wish it went a little harder.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

Yeah. It hits all the hallmarks of an aged stout even if it doesn’t go above and beyond what’s advertised on the label. It’s a Deschutes beer, so you know you’re getting quality here.

But if you’re a beer nerd, you may be better off waiting for this year’s run of Goose Island’s Bourbon County stouts for more complex flavors. I’ll have a rundown of those beers this time next week.

Does it bring the boom?

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Ammunition bourbon is a wine-forward whiskey that punches above its weight class

Cabernet barrels create a unique profile. But is that a good thing?

I love whiskey. I’m ambivalent to wine. That made Ammunition’s cabernet-barreled bourbon a slightly weird call for me.

While I’m used to Scotches aged in unique casks to impart flavor, it’s not something I’ve seen with American bourbons all that often. With a Scotch, wine or sherry barrels impart calming fruit sweetness to pair with the salt and peat of the spirit itself. But bourbon is already a little sweeter to begin with; would this be too much? Not enough? Wine-tainted whiskey? Whiskey-tainted wine?

Either way, it was an interesting proposition. Ammunition is aged at least four years and clocks in at my local Woodman’s at about $40. The Cask Strength is roughly double that price — expensive, but still not near the top of the stupidly expensive American whiskey market. While it isn’t a bargain bourbon it’s still relatively cheap in a landscape where other new spirits are prohibitively expensive. But none of that matters if it tastes like a bar mat at the end of the night.

Let’s see how it is.

Ammunition Bourbon on ice: B

This pours with a rich caramel color that seems a little too dark to be purely barrel-added, particularly for a four-year malt. It undeniably looks great, however, and some of that rich color can be explained by the six months it spent in Bordeaux wine casks.

The wine influence creates a noticeable lightness on the nose, which smells clean and inviting. There’s red wine, fruit and grain swirling together that lets you know this isn’t your typical glass of Kentucky whiskey.

The first sip is solidly smooth. The spirit inside wouldn’t be old enough for kindergarten, but it tastes wise beyond those years. The warmth of a cask strength whiskey is there, but there’s no burn. Admittedly, that may be because I’m starting with a glass on ice, but this is supremely mellow.

That wine is prevalent in each sip. I’m not a wine guy, but this aged grape flavor profile undoubtedly helps cover up any of the flaws that come with a younger malt.

The issue there is that it doesn’t really taste like a bourbon. The sweetness isn’t from the oak, it’s from that grape profile. The depth isn’t quite there. It’s a good sipper, a proper dram that’s easy to drink. But it’s not quite what I’m looking for if I’m pulling from a bottle of whiskey.

Maybe I did this all wrong. Lemme try it neat, like I probably should have to start.

Ammunition Bourbon neat: B

You get more of that boozy warmth off the top without the ice, but the headliner here remains the wine cask influence. This is a bourbon, sure, but you can’t escape those grapes.

The taste is wine forward, which means you get those notes of aged grape and oak before the familiar whiskey tenets roll in. There are other fruits at play here; a little cherry, maybe some peach — but mostly, yeah, grape.

That leaves a lingering sweetness that sticks around after the sip. There’s no clear end to this; no demarcation between taste and aftertaste. Something like the muted salt of an Islay Scotch would do wonders here. Instead, you get a spirit that’s undeniably smooth but not especially complex.

But hey, if you like bourbon and wine, look no further. And at $40 (or $80), it’s not quite a bargain whiskey, but it feels like it’s more expensive than it is.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

Yeah, I like it well enough. You can find better whiskeys at a lower price, but Ammunition is unique and well suited to anyone who likes bourbon and wine similarly. It’s a solid sipper that isn’t overly pretentious, which is a nice change from the spate of other new, higher-end whiskeys on the shelf.

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HappyPop! is quirky and a little weird, but it woke me up so it’s OK

The colorful energy drink promises “mood boosting.” Is that just code for caffeine?

I am not an energy drink connoisseur by any means, but I’ve been around the block.

Basically, anything that gets down to about $1 per can at Costco or my local Woodman’s gets purchased. This has led to a stockpile of good (Monster, Rockstar, Red Bull, Zoa sometimes), bad (Venom, Xyience) and weird (Gorgie, the C4 pre-workout cans that make my skin feel like a beehive).

That generally disqualifies HappyPop! from the conversation at roughly $3 per 8.4 ounce can. The brand’s buzz led it to my fridge anyway with promises of “mood boosting” ingredients and the idea rainbows are, deep down, made of tropical fruit.

Can it meet my energy drink desire of “sweet, fizzy and slightly acidic while propping up my eyelids an extra centimeter?” Let’s give it a shot.

Rainbow Drip: B-

I’m not sure I could start anywhere else but the flavor I know absolutely nothing about. “Rainbow Drip” is some nonsense but the can is pretty and, upon closer review, promises tropical fruit flavors that should start my morning off nicely.

Cracking the can unleashes a heavy current of pineapple, strong enough to be surprising. That’s a good sign, for sure. It pours a rich magenta, with a thick and heavy form forming on top to pay tribute to the fruit juice inside.

The taste is a little dry for an energy drink. There’s a sweetness that’s lacking, especially given the “pop” on the label. If I had to guess, I’d chalk that up to the tart cherry juice within. The flavors themselves are dense; you do get bit notes of pineapple and orange here and, at the tail end, that dry sour cherry.

Pouring it over ice helps thin it out, and since I typically water down my energy drinks anyway — yeah, I’m a weirdo — a little H2O keeps that flavor intact. It does lead to a bit of fatigue by the end; I wound up happy these cans are only 8.4 ounces instead of 12 or 16. I’m not sure I feel like I’m in a better mood after drinking them, but I’m alert and moderately focused so, not bad.

Ginger Spice: B

You get a kick of ginger root right from the can after you crack it. Like the Rainbow Drip, it pours with a dense, juicy head. The color isn’t super appealing, but most people will be sipping straight from the can so it’s tough to criticize.

That ginger kicks off the first sip with expected crispness. Then comes the lemon, which adds to the overall clean flavor profile. It also leaves a bit of a sticky aftertaste that isn’t 100 percent pleasant, but also not really a problem.

Unlike the Rainbow Drip, this gets better as it goes. the balance of spice/sour/bubbles snaps each sip off more cleanly than its predecessor. And I do feel like I’m in a better mood after two. Maybe a little manic, but it’s a different feeling than most high-caffeine energy drinks would provide (in this case, 200 mg over 16.8 ounces).

I don’t know that I’d stake my wellbeing on it, but it does seem like it would be a good chaser after hydrating the morning after a night of drinking.

Tangerine Dream: B

This pours a fainter orange than I expected and the dense foam of the last two cans is lighter and fizzier this time. It smells great, like sweet, fresh orange juice.

The first sip is a little underwhelming. The flavor starts off with big orange notes, then sorta fades into nothing. You’re left with a stale, citrus aftertaste that lingers longer than I’d like.

It’s less of a problem from the can, where the orange is more focused and sweeter. And same from sipping with a straw, so I’ll chalk that up to a too-watery sip at the top of a glass filled with ice. Don’t do that.

On its own, the citrus flavor is potent and runs 75/25 sweet vs. acidic, which is right where I want it to be. This has the broadest appeal of the bunch. It’s personally not a flavor I’d seek out, but it’s solid enough that I’d pick up a can on a Saturday morning to get through my kid’s swim class.

Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?

Eh, maybe the next morning after a few Hamm’s. Ultimately the drink doesn’t quite live up to its price. But if you’re looking for something closer to an artisanal energy drink, then you might have a better time than I did.