Sounds like something you'd drink on a dare

I have really been craving a root beer float for several weeks (and haven't had one for years), so when I passed by a nearby cafe and saw it listed on the sandwich board, I didn't stand a chance of resisting the temptation. Once inside, I took a second glance at the menu, and noticed that something was not quite right: there was a word missing from the bold text indicating the name of the dessert, and that word was "root." A quick perusal of the description confirmed that this was no mere typographical oversight. Instead, the item in question consisted of three scoops of vanilla ice cream swimming in a big frosty mug of actual beer.

Needless to say, my first reaction to these words was disgust, as unpleasant memories of previous experiments with grown-up juice and dairy products swirled around in my head. But, I must say, there was something seductive and intriguing about this concept as well. The very idea of one-stop shopping for my sweet tooth and my woolly-headed "where-did-I-put-my-keys" party tooth, well now that was a potent argument in favor of trying the quaff. And even if it ended up being a horrendous taste experience, at the very least it would provide a suitable story for this blog (hey, what can I say, it was a slow weekend, and Gaby has been having trouble finding internet access on the road). So I sat down, closed my eyes, and pointed at "Beer Float" on the menu when the server came over to take my order.

And do you know what? It was really good. The beer was a local microbrew in the porter style, and it is good enough on its own, but the ice cream really brought out the chocolate and toasty notes latent in its alcoholic bath. Furthermore, the creamy meltoff contributed to a rich frothiness that was a textural delight. I highly recommend giving this one a try to anyone who can get past the repugnant mental image of beery ice cream. Just don't attempt it with a Budweiser. That will lead only to misery.

In fact, I am so thoroughly charmed by this sweet treat that when Gaby arrives tomorrow, I may succeed in convincing her to try one too. As Gaby generally dislikes beer, that would be quite a coup, but she is kind of a sucker for ice cream, and this may end up being one of the few beer incarnations that are acceptable to her - the other being the prohibitively expensive Lindeman's brand of lambics. And if she hates it, then I can have two of them. See? Everybody wins.