Mug shots: Most undesirable beer in Oregon
Mark Organ
Issue date: 11/12/09 Section: Student Life
"Hey Mark, look what I got," My big brother said as he proudly produced from his pocket a bottle labeled Ruedrich's Red Seal Ale. My 12-year-old self greedily asked, "Is that beer?" My brother nodded reverently. I held the wonderful beer in my hands and could immediately tell that something was wrong. "Why is it so warm?" I asked accusingly. My brother shrugged, feigning ignorance.
Meanwhile, we each whipped out our handy-dandy Swiss Army knives, (Thanks, Gramma!) and proceeded to gouge / saw off the cap. Finally, the 'phssst' sound of success. I was EXCITED. Oh boy, was I excited. I wrapped my lips around the bottle, expecting a taste like Kool-Aid. I gulped eagerly… the horror! My eyes bugged and watered, foam geysered out of my nose and chokingly I lied, "That's really good." Without further elaboration, we'll just say it was bad.
Fast forward a decade or so and suddenly, out of nowhere, a muse smacks me on the cranium with a 2x4. "Aha!" I shouted, "I will travel through time and space and once more experience 'Red Seal'." Isaac Newton, eat your heart out. After many calls to dozens of purveyors of fine, beery beverages, my research team located the last bottle of Red Seal anywhere. I trekked to Portland to locate this last dusty jewel. After purchasing said dirty gem, I decided to use my very own scientific method to mimic every nuance from the past. So I sat on the bottle like an expectant chicken while I drove home.
As I stepped out of the car, out came the Swiss Army knife. A resounding 'phssst' echoed throughout the garage. I gulped… and immediately threw up. Apparently my 12-year-old self was correct. He had drunk the worst beer in the world. The moral of this story is twofold: First, drink what tastes good. Second, don't drink Red Seal.
Meanwhile, we each whipped out our handy-dandy Swiss Army knives, (Thanks, Gramma!) and proceeded to gouge / saw off the cap. Finally, the 'phssst' sound of success. I was EXCITED. Oh boy, was I excited. I wrapped my lips around the bottle, expecting a taste like Kool-Aid. I gulped eagerly… the horror! My eyes bugged and watered, foam geysered out of my nose and chokingly I lied, "That's really good." Without further elaboration, we'll just say it was bad.
Fast forward a decade or so and suddenly, out of nowhere, a muse smacks me on the cranium with a 2x4. "Aha!" I shouted, "I will travel through time and space and once more experience 'Red Seal'." Isaac Newton, eat your heart out. After many calls to dozens of purveyors of fine, beery beverages, my research team located the last bottle of Red Seal anywhere. I trekked to Portland to locate this last dusty jewel. After purchasing said dirty gem, I decided to use my very own scientific method to mimic every nuance from the past. So I sat on the bottle like an expectant chicken while I drove home.
As I stepped out of the car, out came the Swiss Army knife. A resounding 'phssst' echoed throughout the garage. I gulped… and immediately threw up. Apparently my 12-year-old self was correct. He had drunk the worst beer in the world. The moral of this story is twofold: First, drink what tastes good. Second, don't drink Red Seal.
Viewing Comments 1 - 3 of 3
Martin
posted 11/16/09 @ 6:25 PM PST
Mark, your article is kind of cute and I am sure your journalism career will exceed Walter Cronkites! Problem is you obviously have a bad palate and clearly are not qualified to write about beer. (Continued…)
Billy
posted 11/17/09 @ 6:16 PM PST
Settle down, chief. Everything will be alright, even if a college student isn't the biggest fan of Red Seal. Why are you cruising college newspaper Web sites for beer reviews anyway? Think about it. (Continued…)
essay writing
posted 12/03/09 @ 12:34 AM PST
I think that Red Seal doesn`t taste to author like the true beer. But maybe someone like it. It it the quastion of taste.
Post a Comment