I love you, Yellow Rose, but we need to talk [Lone Pint to bottle date Yellow Rose!]
Dearest Yellow Rose,
My love for you is well-documented. When you first arrived, you finally answered the question: “Why do I tick so many beers?” The answer: to find a beer like you. Since your creation, I’ve drank my weight in the stuff, possibly many times over. Yellow Rose, you have been my menu beer (a beer to drink while perusing the menu), my go-to beer whenever I’m at a place that has you on tap, and a serious vexation to me whenever I’m at a place that doesn’t. I have chosen where to eat based on your availability. I am obsessed.
But then I moved, Yellow Rose, away from the lovely home we call Texas, to a place far away and, sadly devoid of your incredible elixir: Brooklyn. And as a beer drinker, I found that Brooklyn is no desert, with myriads of amazing beer, including the occasional mosaic-hopped beverage to attempt to quench my thirst. But you have no substitute; you are a beer that stands alone. So I resorted to doing what any obsessed fan would do: import bottles.
When I’m in Houston, as I am this week, I drink you, Yellow Rose, as often as possible. And then I export bottles back with me to NY in my checked baggage. When I’m not in Houston, I have friends pick up and ship bottles to me. This has gone on for long enough that I feel it’s time that you and I had a chat.
You know I love you, Yellow Rose. You know we’ve had some great times together. I can picture the Valentine’s Day “Bae” snapchat I sent my friends with only a picture of a pint of you. I can still recall my glee when you won the first inaugural Houston Beer Bracket. You know I love you, Yellow Rose. But we need to talk.
See, while you’re amazing on tap, there’s a problem with your bottles: I never know your age. Am I drinking you only a few days out of the bright tank, or a few months after your delivery to a store that doesn’t move product fast enough? Other beers, they are forthcoming with their age, but you, you hide it, with no bottle dates to be seen! It’s disheartening, and it makes me feel like you don’t trust me, to tell me the truth of your age.
I know that Aaliyah taught us that “age ain’t nothing but a number,” but in this case, I feel like that doesn’t apply. In this case, age ain’t nothing but an indication of how fresh your mosaic goodness is. And that indication is important.
So, Yellow Rose, we might need to take a break. It pains me to say it, but I don’t think I can drink from the bottle any longer until you have a bottle date. What I’m trying to say is, perhaps we need to see other people/beers when I’m not in town.
p.s. What’s that? You say that Lone Pint just got a new bottling line for 500ml bottles and that they’ll soon be bottle dating you going forward? Incredible news, Yellow Rose! Disregard all the stuff above, I would never reject you! Welcome, Yellow Rose, to the world of bottle dates!