A brassy blast of holiday music is just what I’m craving about now, but I’m trying to hold on to those last falling leaves while resisting the urge to lasso them with gold tinsel Wonder-Woman style. That’s why my November beer of choice is the Sierra Nevada Oktoberfest.
I know. Oktoberfest came and went in thrusts of beer steins, masked to the hilt in socially distanced beer halls, laced with scents of sauerkraut and some kind of sausage. But I had my fill of pumpkin beers and cinnamon schnapps (adult Halloween candy) last month. So, I need to go back to that month of October to get what I missed—back to the days when it was still light out at 3:30 p.m., and it was already happy hour (still is). Back when all of the pretty leaves still clung to trees and children threw pumpkins at them.
While there are very few pumpkins with their noggins still intact in my neighborhood, I can find a few boxes of Sierra Nevada Oktoberfest beers on the shelves. They come in a festive can, decked out with fancy diamond patterns over a field of sky blue, which makes you want to drink this beer in a grassy knoll, look up at the clouds, and guess the shapes they’re making: Teeth? An airplane? Is that a race car with the face of a clown that morphs into an elephant?
When you visit the Sierra Nevada Oktoberfest beer website, you’ll see the following slogan/mission statement: “Prost like a pro! OKTOBERFEST. Brewed for the biggest party on earth.” They have no idea that the biggest party in my little corner of the earth consists of drinking a beer while making dinner and the cat tears through the house. Also, Nate comes home with the dry cleaning, which is like the ball in Times Square dropping on New Year’s Eve.
In any case, according to the website, I’m supposed to taste honey and “biscuity bread,” along with caramel and graham cracker. I suppose I do taste all of those things, but the beer itself is also delightfully smooth. It’s a party that my home-body self, surrounded by books and a notebook on a rainy day, can actually handle. And for that, I’m grateful. So, Merry Prost and Happy New Pumpkin! May all of your beers be spectacularly out of season.
Cecilia Kennedy once taught Spanish and English courses in Ohio for many years. She now lives in the Greater Seattle area, and writes horror stories. Her blog (Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks: https://fixinleaksnleeksdiy.blog/) chronicles her humorous (and perhaps scary?) attempts at cooking and home repair.