Photo by Nicholas L. Hall

A Jul-Tide Must!

​Other people's Christmas Traditions are weird. I mean, let's be honest, here. Nobody thinks that Catalonia's Caga Tió - an anthropomorphic, candy-shitting take on the yule-log - is normal. The same can probably be said for the Dutch Zwarte Piet, whose black-face shenanigans are as beloved in the Netherlands as they are shocking to, well, pretty much everyone else. Of course, odd as we may find some traditions, the other always breeds curiosity, and so I found myself trying Julmust, a traditional Swedish holiday beverage.

A strong part of Swedish culture since its creation in 1910, Julmust was originally intended as a non-alcoholic beer-alternative. It's not that. People in Sweden are serious about it, nonetheless, even putting it up to age for a year or more - to enhance the musty goodness, I suppose. I'm going to follow suit with my remaining bottle, stashing it next to my actual beer, to see if the Swedes are onto something with their vintage Julmust.

More >>

Photo by John Suh

The green soda can ubiquitous in Vietnamese households

​What is it?

Often made from carbonated water, corn sugar, and coconut extract, coconut soda tastes like a sweetened club soda with a hint of coconut milk. They are packaged in typical aluminum soda cans and come in packs of six.

More >>

Do not believe her swaying promise of fruitful bounty.

​Simplicity is a good idea. With simplicity comes focus; with focus comes deliciousness. At least that's the theory. It's certainly what lead me to pick up a bottle of Waialua Soda Works Pineapple Natural Soda the other day.

I was milling around the deli area of the Midtown Spec's, trying to grab something quick to bring home for dinner, when the jaunty hula girl on the label grabbed my attention. The label feeds into the retro schtick that seems to go hand in hand with many craft sodas, as if by virtue of subdued color palettes and 1950s graphics, the soda harkens to a simpler, more wholesome time. Because, as everyone knows, soda was better for you back then, when you had to get it from the general store for two bits, after walking a mile uphill both ways.

For me, the pursuit of better soda has nothing to do with health benefits, and everything to do with flavor. The simplicity of pineapple soda called out to me, offering freshness, vibrancy, and clearly defined flavor. It did not follow through on its promises.

More >>

Anything with opening instructions this detailed must be delicious!

​Back in middle school, a bunch of my peers got deeply, dorkily involved in Japanese pop culture. Cartoons, toys, various scholastic accessories; if it was Japanese, it was cool. I never really got the appeal, finding many of the cutesy icons unpalatably silly. Perhaps, had I paid more attention while my friends were shopping for manga, I would have discovered ramune sooner.

As it is, my first experience with the Japanese soft drink was a recent accident. While shopping at the newly face-lifted Disco Kroger (I hate the new design; it's like shopping in a Martha Stewart catalog. I know, I'm weird.), I happened upon a small display of bottles next to the sushi counter. There were two varieties available. With cartoonish strawberries adorning the bottle, one was fairly clear about its flavor. I chose the other bottle.

I didn't look up any information on the beverage before drinking it; I wanted to be surprised. If the pictures on the bottle are intending to be telling, this one was meant to taste like children. You know you would have opted for the child-flavored soda, too.

More >>

Simply delicious.

​My parents always had a fairly progressive attitude toward drinking. From a fairly young age, we were allowed a glass of wine at dinner, if we really wanted it. A champagne toast at the New Year? Not a big deal. While I'm sure it's a controversial notion, I firmly believe that their treatment of alcohol consumption, both modeling responsible drinking and refusing to bestow upon it the glamor of the forbidden, was a wise choice.

Lest you think that my mom was sending us skipping merrily along with gin in our sippy cups, let me assure you that "a fairly young age" means about 12. Before that, our de-facto tipple on special occasions was sparkling apple or grape juice. It looked the part, with its corked 750ml bottles and thrilling effervescence, allowing us to feel like we were participating, while reserving the real thing for when we had mustered a bit more maturity.

More >>

Curse you, Cost Plus World Market.

​I have sort of a hate-hate relationship with Cost Plus World Market. I hate that my wife seems physically incapable of not buying their crap, and I hate that I secretly like most of it. Don't tell her I said that. Either part, really, but mostly the part about me liking stuff. That would totally ruin the curmudgeon thing I'm going for.

At any rate, I find myself dragged there semi-regularly, to shop for odd textiles, wooden toys for our nieces and nephews (not to mention our own kids), and the occasional random food item. My wife is fond of bringing home odd candies, chips from foreign lands, and tins of ill-advised flavored coffee. Me, I go straight for the sodas.

More >>

​One of my favorite cocktails at Hearsay Gastro Lounge contains a mixture of vodka, champagne, and dry lavender soda. I like to try a drink at a restaurant or bar and then later try to recreate it at home, and though I could clearly figure out the first two parts of the drink, the dry lavender soda completely eluded me. That was until I found it sitting on a shelf at Randall's.

Dry Soda is a Seattle-based brand of beverages that come in very cool, simple glass bottles. They look like fancy, uber-modern water bottles, and there are a variety of refreshing flavors like cucumber, lavender, juniper berry, vanilla bean, lemongrass, kumquat and rhubarb. They were on sale for $1.25 a bottle, so I splurged on a four-pack of vanilla bean, lavender, juniper berry and lemongrass.

More >>

​Each Tuesday and Thursday for the next few weeks, we'll be taking a look at alternatives to cokes for the sticky Houston summer that lies ahead

Yes, that's right. Leninade. According to the bottle, it's "a taste worth standing in line for." And that's not the only pun the kids at Real Soda have come up with for their latest product...

All along in the bottle in pale yellow sans serif font, strikingly reminiscent of Soviet propaganda posters, are one-liners like "A party in every bottle" and "Drink, comrade, drink! It's this or the gulag!" They're worth an easy -- if small -- laugh. Remember Communism? That was funny 'cause it was a long time ago! seems to be the entire schtick here.

But I found one of the slogans to be more than just lazily funny. It was a bit misleading. "Get hammered & sickled!" it reads across the top of the Soviet symbol.

Hammered? Perhaps if there were alcohol in this -- a hard Leninade, if you will -- but the only thing you'll find in this soda is water, sugar and mostly natural flavors. I was vaguely annoyed.

Until I spotted one of the final one liners in a very unexpected place.

More >>

​Each Tuesday and Thursday for the next few weeks, we'll be taking a look at alternatives to cokes for the sticky Houston summer that lies ahead.

I was prepared not to like Ironbeer from the start.

I don't like the packaging. It looks too reminiscent of Dr Pepper and, therefore, like a knockoff.

I don't like things with "beer" in the flavor if it isn't actual beer. That includes you, root beer. You taste like medicine and summer camp (not the fun summer camp; the grueling YMCA summer camp that your parents send you to if they don't want to tolerate you during the month of July).

I don't like the constant touting of the "Original 1917 Flavor!" and the "MORE THAN 80 YEARS" all over the can. I get it; you're old. What else do you have going for you?

But Ironbeer completely surprised me.

More >>

Yes, that's a Build-A-Bear in the background.

​Each Tuesday and Thursday for the next few weeks, we'll be taking a look at alternatives to cokes for the sticky Houston summer that lies ahead.

And so here we are.

A Cooler Coke has finally hit (pardon the pun) a roadblock in attempting to discover the origins of HiT. I found this odd, green-colored, glass-bottled drink in the refrigerated drink case at Phoenicia. I think it's from Spain, as far as I can tell from the inscription that reads "Importado Por: España: Marindus S.L." And that's about it.

Searching for the drink on Google or any other search engine turns up little else except for a drink that's also called Hit, but seems to be unrelated in both its provenance and spelling to HiT Lulo.

What's more interesting, however, is what the drink is made out of.

More >>