I've had a bottle of
Anchor Steam Christmas Ale sitting in my basement for a few years now. Its previous owner had it a few years before that: it was
brewed in 1996. After 11 years, I figured it probably wasn't going to get better. Perhaps it was already firmly established on the drinkability downslope. I shined one of my strongest LED bike lights through the bottle. No light emerged. Even at the neck, there was only a hint of transparency. "Good dark glass bottle," I thought, "this might still be good."
I asked my wife, "What are the odds that we wake up tomorrow blind from drinking the mix of organic chemicals in this thing?"
"Zero," was her answer. No hesitation.
OK. All doubts swept aside, we opened the bottle with ceremony when our friends arrived. It make a small pffft as the cap was freed, and out poured a chocolate colored brew with a tiny-bubbled head.
I dared the first sip. Not toxic tasting. No overpowering pine bough bitterness as I'd imagined might derive from years of cellaring a holiday ale that sometimes features strong contributions from christmas trees. It was good. Like a mild porter, smooth, with the lightness of an ale.
We enjoyed it greatly. And the company of our friends until 11:45. Then we went our separate ways, our kids to bed as the midnight fireworks and whoops of celebration sounded across the neighborhood.
Happy New Year to all.
