In our never-ending quest to uncover and discover all things Schaefer we sometimes find ourselves in unfamiliar surroundings. Such was the case this week when I found myself at The Adour in
(the boss is gonna 'Schaef' a gold
meat-axe when he sees my expense report) comparing our honest nectar alongside
something called a Schaefer Graacher Himmelreich Riesling Spatlese. I can't
pronounce those words, it took me five minutes just to type them and spell
check only approved of 'Schaefer' (no surprise there, everybody and everything
approves of Schaefer), so I just called it The Schaefer Grabber. New York
That did not get me off on the right foot with my counterpart, the eternally snooty Bartholomew Chadwick Barrington, a
wine expert who stubbornly insisted on being called by all three names. When he
asked how I would prefer to be addressed I replied, "My friends just call
me Willard; you know, like the guy in the movie with all the rats." New York
Before ordering our meals Bart (sorry dude) carefully opened his Grabber to "allow for the proper breathing time". I immediately chugged an ice cold Schaefer-it tastes best when cold. As we perused the menu my dilemma worsened. It was all in French and I had a good idea hot wings and jalapeno poppers were nowhere in sight so I chugged another beer while pretending to ignore the sneers of those around me. Just for the heck of it I added a third and by the time our waiter returned I was feeling good enough about myself to give him permission to surprise me with my entrée as long as it didn't consist of snails and had no eyes.
Once we began the 'tasting' it went something like this:
Bart: "The extroverted delight on this nose makes me think it would have been louder than one of my shirts when it throbbed with youthful baby fat."
Me: "This smells like a good ol' Schaefer. It reminds me of tailgate parties at race tracks and UGA football games." I resisted the urge to bark at him.
After a few careful sips by him and a few more chugs by me-
Bart: "The lime fruit is delicious and ripe. There is a totally exhilarating extravagance to the palate: focused and direct citrus fruits that are very intense. Its acidity is so powerful it is etching its signature on my teeth all bundled up in a tight ball of compelling energy."
Ol' Bart was making me kind of nervous at this point.
Me: "The great thing about a Schaefer beer is the clean, crisp taste. Maybe a bit sweet for some tastes but, for me, this is what closes the deal."
Bart: "Extravagant it may be but there is nothing dodgy about its harmony-great fruit, fine acid and succulent sweetness are working to create a totally balanced whole."
Me (After two more): "Bart, Dodge ain't racing next year and you sound like you've been dropping acid...and what the hell is a balanced whore?"
Bart: "The refinement this shows is abso-mesis-lutely spot on for Riesling Spatlese of the very highest quality."
Me (Yep, two more): This Schaefer is abso-freakin-lutely some swingin' stuff!"
Finally, the meals arrived and the beauty of Schaefer Beer won out. Bart's credit card was maxxed out and I had a wide open expense report to work with. I have no idea what I ate but it tasted great with Schaefer Beer-but, hey, what doesn't?
At this point, Bart had two choices: drink water or Schaefer. I'll give him credit for being a good sport because he chose the good stuff and, after a brief hesitation took a timid sip that was followed by, "Hey, this stuff ain't bad!"
Boom! Converted another one-We had a few more, went out looking for a couple of balanced whores and, thanks to Schaefer Beer, I never got to strike three.