So where does the name come from anyway?  In 1835, Texas, then a province of Mexico, sat on the brink of revolution.  As tensions rose, Mexico thought it best to reclaim a loaned cannon from the town of Gonzalez.  The town refused to return the weapon and, in defiance, rose a white flag with a painting of the cannon and emblazoned with the now immortal words, “COME AND TAKE IT.”

This moment holds a special place in the hearts of Texans even today and shirts, stickers and tattoos of the flag are common.  It’s that spirit of resistance that gave rise to the Republic of Texas for which the Lone Star means independence.

While the story behind the name is one of legend, the story behind the brand is not.

In Lewisville, Texas sits North Texas Distillers, the creator of 1835 The Lone Star and 16 other brands of spirit, 10 of which are vodkas.  Where are they all coming from?  Lone Star doesn’t have its own distillery or its own offices.  It doesn’t even have its own webpage.  So, what’s the story behind Lone Star?  If the ginger beer is any clue, it’s possible that it’s not much more than a wrapper.

The can will tell you the drink originates in Pilot Point, Texas, a tiny speck north of Dallas with less than 5000 people.  That’s the home of the Western Son vodka distillery.  Western Son crafts their own ginger beer too—previously reviewed—right there in town.  The highly distinctive ingredient list—consisting of rarities like high fructose corn syrup, caramel coloring and several additives and preservatives—sticks in the memory for its unusual nature.  It was a surprise to see it repeated on the side of the Lone Star can.

The can itself lacks inspiration, unlike the name.  A black field surrounds a grunge-framed white rectangle.  The logo floats within, comprised of a condensed western font.  A lone bronze star sits awkwardly in the lower right.  The design holds little presence and looks a bit budget, quite different from Western Son’s striking use of type—which is important because this is Western Son Ginger Beer in a different can.  No, not even a different can since the design is actually printed upon a plastic wrap hugging the can.  The liquid fills each blank can in a long train.  Then the cans get wrapped in livery based on however many of each are needed.

The Western Son review contains all the information but here’s a quick summary.  The darkly colored liquid holds a whopping 225 calories and tastes of sweet ginger and citrus.  It’s tart and tangy.  The development though is static, with little change in the experience throughout the progression.  There’s also the unfortunate (though mild) sensation of syrup pressing down on the tongue.  So while the flavor is nice, the texture isn’t. 

This ginger beer sees a much narrower distribution than its accompanying vodka so acquiring it isn’t easy.  That means stumbling across it is rare so it’s probably worth picking up to try it.  However it’s likely that adjacent to it rests another, more familiar selection that might prove a tastier choice.  Stick with what you know or go on an adventure: that decision is yours.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased locally at: Spec’s

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Eventually Rackensperger moved to a better location and launched a new root beer.  Acceleration: the business soared as their new concoction flew off shelves and soon it became available nationally.  With the windfall Rackensperger bought up competitors and restaurants.

40 years after its inception Frostie was sold and it bounced around until the current owner, Detroit’s Intrastate Distributors, bought it in 2009.  Though it no longer enjoys the success of its heyday, Frostie root beer can be found easily across the nation.  Their ginger beer though is a little bit harder to find.

Their winter-themed label highlights this clear, 12oz, heritage-style bottle.  Interlocking triangles of alternating shades of green make up the background while the snow-capped, 50’s-style logo features up front.  Longtime mascot, the earmuffed elf, leans in just behind while a barrel — clear to let the liquid show through — sits just below.  It is retro through-and-through and nods to the origin of their famous root beer.

To carbonated water and cane sugar is added the ambiguous “natural flavor” and citric acid.  Sodium benzoate keeps it shelf-stable while quillaia extract piles on a little extra foam.  Tally them together and the sum is a whopping 200 calories for the bottle.

As can be seen through the glass, the liquid is light-colored and opaque with no trace of sediment.  Generous fizz generates when poured and in the glass it gives off the scent of ginger and substantial sweetness.  Those hints on the nose are dead-on as sweet hits right off the bat.  Ginger rushes in quickly, heat tagging along.  The abundant sweetness builds and builds as a touch of tart joins in for the climax.  There’s a burst of sugary sweetness before fading into the finish, accompanied by a subtle ginger.  Prickles jig upon the tongue, the residuals of a hefty heat.

While there’s nothing outlandish about it, Frostie does take a chance with its sweetness.  This is a sweet-forward ginger beer, likely too sweet for some, but the considerable heat attempts to balance it.  Both are above-average which imparts an intensity to the flavor.  This take on the formula can be called bold and interesting but the sweetness is ultimately a bit much.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased at: Beverages Direct | Also available online at: Antiqology, Soda4u, Specialty Sodas.

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Today Stoli is a stalwart in the American world of fine spirits having been fully embraced by people who, in another time, might have scorned it.  The flavors of Stoli vodka seem innumerable but also in their portfolio appears a ginger beer.  A year after its introduction, a bold, new, limited-edition flavor entered the market, this Fire and Spice Ginger Beer.

The can design aims to be a variation of the standard ginger beer, black where the original is red and with a flaming “Fire & Spice” front and center.  The only other major difference is size.  Instead of the normal 12oz can, this one is a smaller 8.4 ounces (248ml).

Those 8.4 ounces count as a single serving with 100 calories which pro-rates to 143 calories for 12 ounces, almost exactly what the regular ginger beer holds.  Cane sugar sweetens the drink while flavor comes from ginger extract and “other natural flavors.”  Citric acid and salt contribute a little and a couple preservatives keep it fresh.

The liquid is perfectly clear and, unlike its counterpart, generates little fizz.  The nose offers ginger and sweet cinnamon, smelling almost exactly like Big Red gum.  The taste experience begins pretty much as usual with sweetness preceding the arrival of ginger.  The two build to a climax where the fireworks start to fly.  The cinnamon bursts in, sweet and feisty, reminiscent of a Hot Tamale, a candy tough to find outside of a movie theater.  Heat from the ginger prickles a bit and the cinnamon launches a quick salvo of spice as it washes over the tongue.  The cinnamon then glides away on the finish, leaving a cottony sweet feeling after it’s gone.

It’s a one-of-a-kind sensation, this cinnamon ginger beer.  Balance is well-executed with the cinnamon never suffocating out the ginger even though it should be counted as the forward flavor.  While most flavored ginger beers intend to elevate the drink, dress it up a little, this one could be considered a bit unsophisticated or even gimmicky.  But that doesn’t mean it’s bad.  Some people love the taste of cinnamon candy and would find a place for Fire and Spice in their heart.  Others could find it distasteful.  Ultimately, it’s a well-crafted ginger beer, more skillfully done than the slew of overpoweringly flavored ginger beers out there and whether or not it’s good will most likely come down to personal preference.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased online at: Soda Pop Shop | Available there in singles and 4-packs

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John’s son Peverel now oversees the venture which has grown into an international phenomenon.  Belvoir features creative beverages, including John and Mary’s original Elderflower Cordial, all made with the Vale’s own spring water.

Their ginger beer can be found in curvy little 8.4 ounce (250ml) bottles and larger 750ml varieties like this one.  The clear glass holds the silhouette of a wine bottle or maybe a spirit with an embossed logo swooping across the shoulder.  Orange is the branded color for the ginger beer with the label and seal both printed in it.  About the label, it’s uneven at the top and bottom, looking carefully torn and is adorned with the elegant script typically employed by Belvoir.  Seeing this on a shelf offers an impression of an upscale product but laced with warmth, personality and friendliness.

Belvoir was born amidst a growing concern regarding artificial ingredients so they carry that with them even today.  The label declares it to be free of preservatives, gluten, GMOs and assures readers it’s vegan.  Carbonated spring water kicks off the list.  Organic cane sugar provides sweetness, organic lemon juice provides tartness and organic fresh root ginger infusion provides ginger flavor.  Ginger extracts are also used.  Citric acid is present as is capsicum extract. An 8.5 ounce serving carries 110 calories, equating to 155 for 12.

The bottle must be tumbled before pouring as a layer of sediment rests at the bottom.  Afterward the color is tinted by ginger juice with the barest hint of an orange hue. A significant amount of light comes through, rendering it translucent.  The nose is of a soft ginger, accompanied by a bit of lemon.  Carbonation is virtually nonexistent.

Sweet notes arrive at the outset, joined shortly by the duo of an earthy ginger and sharply tart lemons.  The heat comes on, not the prickles of ginger but the jab of capsaicin.  Ginger falls away, leaving lemon to close the curtain.

The earthy ginger never stands in the spotlight, instead mingling as an ensemble.  It’s the soul of the progression with the lemon brightening the experience and at times taking over.  The heat weaves through without dominating but rapid fire sips will ignite the mouth a bit.  It’s an unusual take on a ginger beer but not necessarily a bad one.  Ginger beer enthusiasts might find it lacking however.  It could use more ginger and certainly more carbonation but as-is it’s satisfying and refreshing in its own right.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased locally at: World Market. | Available online at: BritSuperstore, World Market

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With the renewed interest in the Moscow Mule, demand for ginger beer skyrocketed and visionary distillers like Western Son saw an opportunity to not only expand their bottom line but to showcase the spirit they’d worked so hard to create.  Enter Western Son Texas Ginger Beer.

The can design (printed on a plastic wrap and not directly on the can itself) builds off the branding of their vodka bottles with its bold type on a field the color of aged paper.  It gives the impression of an Old West wanted poster and catches, holds the eye.  Black rings the lower third of the can, providing a pleasing contrast.  Around back, the reason the drink exists is made plain.  It’s the recipe for a “Western Mule,” consisting of Western Son vodka and Western Son ginger beer. 

The uninspiring ingredient list also graces the back of the can.  Anything delectable sits locked behind the amorphous “natural flavors” while preservatives and additives get spelled out.  The list includes sodium benzoate, potassium sorbate, gum acacia and ester gum.  While sporting a couple of these is common, seeing them all is unusual.  What’s even rarer is the use of high fructose corn syrup as the sweetener.  A review encountered it only one other time.  Also present, caramel color richens the presentation.  Water and citric acid round out the list, which amounts to 150 calories for an 8oz serving, a staggering 225 for the 12oz can.

As expected, the liquid appears darker than most ginger beers with what seems to be a fine sediment suspended within it, not floating but locked in place.  Few bubbles ascend during the pour.  The nose detects a light ginger with a hint of citrus.  Tasting, a flash of sweetness precedes the almost immediate arrival of ginger and citrus.  A constant undercurrent of sweetness runs beneath the floating haze of the ginger.  The sharpness of the citrus is pronounced but not overpowering.  There’s a mild syrupy quality laying upon the tongue.  Heat never arrives.  The finish offers more of the same, tart and ginger running parallel.

Overall there’s not much of a progression.  What it is in the beginning is what it is in the middle is what it is in the end.  Other ginger beers play a bit more in the mouth but this is content to sit still.  The balance though between the ginger and citrus sets it apart.  It’s perfectly tuned and the two flavors complement each other well.  The energy here comes from the tang but it could use a touch of heat and a bit more carbonation to really make it dance. 

The mouthfeel is odd too.  The thick feeling pressing upon the tongue gives the sensation of drinking a flat soda.  It’s mild though and not a huge issue.  The citrus and ginger mostly make up for the concerns but that 225 calories equal a steep price for a flawed treat.  One of these is enjoyable but one of these is enough.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased locally at: Spec’s

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But why stop at beer?  Randy began brewing many years before, after his return from military service in Germany.  He was as versatile as he was knowledgeable and so in 1988 added brewed sodas to the company’s repertoire.  Root beer and cream soda were first off the line but a ginger beer followed later.

Sprecher ginger beer rests in a 12oz. brown-glass, long-neck bottle with a defined curve at the shoulder.  An ombre paints the label’s background, yellow to orange to brown, highlighting the roaring lion crest at its center.  Oddly, metal-look edges border the top and bottom, complete with screws.  Old English type makes up the logo sitting above the crest.  The design conjures thoughts of Germany, sitting at long wooden tables with cold mugs in hand.

Carbonated water leads the ingredient list as expected with glucose syrup acting as sweetener.  Real ginger and natural flavors make up the taste, along with citric acid.  Sodium benzoate keeps this 150-calorie beverage tasting fresh.

Pouring into a mug generates a generous fizz and even an ephemeral head which hangs on for a handful of seconds before dissipating.  The liquid is a light, transparent golden hue with a nose of twining sweet and ginger.  Sweetness touches the tongue straight off, preceding the advent of the ginger.  The ginger amplifies in strength building to a startling strike of sour, nested in botanical notes.  Heat settles mid-tongue, depositing a trail of prickles.  It’s sharp, above average.  The sour-ginger medley fades through the finish with the sour hanging on long after.

The label cries, “Craft soda with a bite,” and this one’s all teeth.  The astonishing arrival of the sour marks the most memorable moment of the progression.  It’s the climax of an unusual flavor profile that’s initially objectionable but soon grows on you.  Daring describes this wholly original ginger beer, the type of flavor that generates opinions.  It’s certainly not for everyone but it does have its merits.  There’s an ocean of competitors out there and in its vast reaches Sprecher’s divisive punch will not be forgotten.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased at: Beverages Direct, though it’s no longer available there. | Also available online at: Sprecher, Antiqology

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Whoever lies at the heart of Wild Spur gave the world a 170-calorie ginger beer, made with familiar ingredients like carbonated water, sugar and natural flavor as well as some unusual too, like modified food starch, glyceryl abietate and brominated vegetable oil.  The latter three sound arcane but they essentially keep the liquid from separating and thicken it up just a tick.

There’s a western theme to the label on this 12-ounce, long-neck bottle.  A shiplap background underlays a rope-wrapped illustration of a mounted cowboy at sunset.  Nautical stars float nearby.  The logo is as western as a cattle drive with a boot-shaped “L” and a spur branching off the “U.”  Taken as a whole, the label certainly drives home the idea of a drink from another era.  It’s not inspired design but it gets the message across just fine.

The bouquet is sweet ginger with a hint of spiciness.  A pour reveals generous carbonation but no sediment in this apple-juice-colored beverage.  Tasting immediately takes an unexpected turn.  Wild Spur begins drier than the scent would suggest though still mildly sweet.  Ginger then envelops the tongue, carrying a notable dose of heat and prickle interlaced with a bit of citrus.  The finish offers another twist as the sweetness implied by the nose finally shows up.  Heat lingers on the tongue and lips.

Some ginger beers stretch their legs a bit, mixing in unique flavors like apple or salt.  Like the label design promises, Wild Spur eschews that adventurousness, delivering a traditional flavor experience.  It delights with a well-tuned level of heat, above average for sure.  It possesses substantial body, with a bit of a cola feel and is pleasant to drink.  While it can’t be called a stand-out, it is quite good, somehow deepening the mystery of its origins.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased at: Beverages Direct | Available online at: Antiqology, Binny’s

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But it wasn’t always about bottles.  Chicago Draft Style first appeared in kegs back in 2006 but generated so many requests for individual servings that a plan for bottling materialized.  Delivering them to their destination became the next obstacle.  Founder Bill Daker approached several beer distributors with zero luck so he did what had to be done.  He added some sales people to the team, bought a truck and drove the bottles anywhere they needed to go, which nowadays means all over Chicago and the surrounding area.

Those bottles are brown-glass, 12oz, softly curved long necks adorned with an unusually low-slung label.  The ginger beer label gets a golden background with a slightly metallic sheen.  Search lights scan the skies, framing the Willis Tower.  A retro look offers some personality.  The goal was to shout that this is a Chicago product and that can be counted as mission accomplished. 

The 190-calorie liquid flows from the bottle a rich amber color, with no cloudiness, and wafts a scent that’s softly sweet but also with a nose-prickling spiciness.  An easy sweetness greets the tongue first.  Then the ginger comes on accompanied by a crescendo of heat that adheres to the tongue and roof of the mouth.  The earthiness of the ginger presents itself before a sweet and spicy finish.  The heat sticks around, spreading to the lips and top of the throat.

The centerpiece of this ginger beer is the heat.  The amount of ginger flavor present doesn’t seem enough to produce this level of heat which then feels almost like a solo act because there’s not a similar intensity of sweetness either.  But it works.  The cumulative effect tastes pleasant and feels nice to drink, even though it can’t be called perfectly balanced.

Bearing the name Chicago makes this ginger beer a de facto representative of the Windy City.  It carries that mantle well.  It’s a solid take on a traditional formula and Chicagoans should be glad to have it.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased at: Beverages Direct (in 6-packs and 12-packs) | Also available online at: Specialty Sodas

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B. Stiff & Sons Old Fashioned Soda Pop Company is the non-alcoholic arm of the Oskar Blues empire.  The brand name pays homage to a friend of founder Dale Katechis.  Brian Stiff was an avid biker who died suddenly, leaving behind a family including two children.  A fraction of the profit goes towards supporting them.

The original 2012 B. Stiff offering grew to be the fastest-selling craft root beer in Colorado and in 2016 it was joined by four more flavors, all with vintage appeal.  Among them came this ginger beer but also released were cream, orange cream and black cherry sodas.

The can is bewildering to behold.  Every inch of space has been crammed with something, from a portrait of a bird soaring over the Rockies to witty phrases like “Mary Ann and Ginger Beer” and “Try It, Mule Like It.”  There are starred ribbons, comedic capitalization and two prominent logos front and center.  “B. Stiff” appears in a circus font, “& Sons” in a grunge font and “Old Fashioned” is in script.  It’s insane.

There’s some sciencey-sounding words in the ingredient list for this 150-calorie soda like sodium benzoate and sucrose acetate isobutyrate but no point getting carried away.  They’re harmless.  The first preserves flavor while the second prevents separation.   The real attention-getter is ginger puree.  Not “natural flavors;” not even extract.  Puree!  With cane sugar providing the sweetness, expectations ride high.

In the glass the opaque liquid tends toward the white end of the ginger beer color spectrum and gives off only a mild scent of ginger.  The first performance is given by a dull sweetness which hands the stage to a very mild ginger with absolutely no prickling sensation.  Lime speaks, softly.  Just prior to the finish is an earthy, botanical blip, likely a product of the puree. 

The progression is a cloud.  Everything is soft with no hard edges.  Smooth throughout, no heat from the ginger, no tart from the citrus.  No excitement either.  It’s altogether pretty standard, feeling like a ginger beer developed in a focus group.  Absolutely inoffensive. 

Though the can is quite shouty, the taste is anything but.  The hype of ginger puree quiets after sampling, lacking the expected zing of fresh ginger.  But all is not lost here.  Disregard any expectations, judge it on its merits and here is found a gratifying experience. No, it won’t inspire backflips but it is pleasant, smooth and easy to drink and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased locally at: Spec’s

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Introduced in 2016, the newest addition to the Boots line is this, the Lucky Ginger Brew.  It begins with carbonated water.  Added to that are “natural flavors” and a little phosphoric acid for tang.  Pure cane sugar does the work of sweetening and 170 calories are counted in the final product.

The container is a green-glass, 12-ounce, long-neck bottle with a quite busy label encircling it.  The logo sits high and defines the center; “Lucky Ginger Brew” is of course significant, appearing over ginger root, over ginger leaves, over a diamond pattern, over a sparkling golden liquid background.  As with all Boots bottles, there’s a bit of family history included.  Aunt Emma’s vintage visage runs down the right side of the label with just a little blurb describing her, the youngest of Boots Kristen’s sisters.

A honeyed sweetness nudges the tongue, followed by the emergence of basil notes.  Then a fire ignites in the mouth.  The ginger’s bite is significant, swarming the tongue and back of the mouth, sometimes rising up into the nose.  When it eases, the basil returns, having been temporarily shouted down by the insistence of the ginger. Soy joins in for a savory finish with the two flavors curiously reaching their peak intensity a second or two after the swallow.  The heat lingers on, even building with subsequent sips and easing its way down the throat.  Finishing the bottle, the mouth is left mildly stunned, like the feeling after overindulging on the salsa at a beloved cantina.

This admirable commitment to spiciness ultimately sits imbalanced, overpowering other flavors on the palette.  Ingredients can work together to produce a unified taste but here the fire competes (and wins) versus other, more understated contributions.  Those who seek and enjoy hefty helpings of heat should certainly take notice as this could fast become a favorite, but others who long to explore the nuances and progression of a ginger beer’s flavor could here find their desires thwarted.

Boots Beverages comes with a rich history it proudly celebrates with every bottle sold.  Becoming a part of that history means being memorable and Lucky Ginger Brew is definitely that.  While other ginger beers may be tasted and forgotten, Boots bounces around in the head long after that final sip.

Final Decision: Third Tier – Enjoyable

Purchased locally at: HEB | Online availability at Antiqology

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