Rose Garden, a.k.a. Bloody Ho

Some beers are okay, even pretty good, on their own. But sometimes they get much better when you stick them together. Such is the case with the drink known to Yard House patrons as the Rose Garden, or to my friends as the Bloody Ho. My friends are crude people, you see.

This is my drink of choice besides cider, and so it is my taste buds that will do the talking here. To make a Rose Garden, take about equal parts Hoegaarden and Lindeman's Framboise and pour them into a glass. That's it, as far as I know, although there may be fancy bartender secrets to which I am not privy.

Hoegaarden (pronounced Who-garden) is a witbier, or white ale, light and relatively clean and crisp. Lindeman's Framboise is a lambic, so instead of hops, fruit is added to activate the yeast that makes the alcohols that makes you drunk. In this case, if you speak any French, you'll already know that the fruit is raspberries. If you don't, you just got told. This particular lambic is pretty sour and tangy, what I would call a sharp flavor, almost acidic, in addition to having the expected fruitiness. It tends to be too strong for me to drink it alone, although their apple lambic is delightful.

When their powers are combined, the beers are unstoppable. The Hoegaarden cuts into the sour tang of the Framboise and smooths it out, while the Framboise gives the Hoegaarden a delightful raspberry overtone. They were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly, like Abbott and Costello, like fish and chips. It's a refreshing drink with barely any hop or malt content. If you aren't a huge fan of beer, this drink may be what you are looking for. If you love beer in all its hoppy glory, you might not dig this, but give it a try. You may be pleasantly surprised.

Just don't ask for a Bloody Ho because someone may look at you funny.

Widmer Hefeweizen

Last night I had the pleasure of hanging out at the Yard House after work with a couple of friends. We pretty much only go during happy hour because it's a damn expensive restaurant otherwise, but it's hard to argue with the prospect of over a hundred beers on tap. Yes, on tap, not just waiting around in bottles or cans. My good bud Alex loves beer but feels that her taste buds are insufficiently refined and wants to work on understanding what the different flavors are and how they operate in her mouth. To this end, she grabbed one of their samplers, which comes with around two ounces each of six different beers. Don't worry, they each get a separate review.

The first beer of the night for her was the Widmer Hefeweizen, an American wheat beer in the German unfiltered weissbier (white beer) style, which mixes about half and half wheat and barley to make a light colored, cloudy ale. It's a good beer to start with because it's relatively light compared to, say, an IPA or a stout, which were also awaiting her attention.

This brew was sweet and full-bodied for a hefeweizen, somewhere between a pub ale and a Belgian according to Eric, but it was also easy to drink. Smooth as a baby's bottom, as the saying goes, although perhaps it is more like smooth as Salma Hayek's leg when she pours tequila on it for Quentin Tarantino to drink. Somehow the idea of a baby's bottom probably shouldn't be anywhere near beer. But I digress. As it's a hefeweizen, it's not too hoppy or malty, and it's basically the kind of thing you could drink for a while without getting full or queasy.

Still, whether you would want to drink it for a while is debatable. It's a solid beer but not spectacular, comparable to a Sam Adams Coastal Wheat but not as good as Bell's Oberon. If you've got it, drink it; if not, and you're looking to be impressed rather than sated, consider reaching for something else instead.

Just the facts, ma'am: Widmer Hefeweizen, Widmer Brothers Brewing, Oregon, hefeweizen, 4.9% alcohol by volume, 30 IBU.