My beer buddy Don Russell, aka Joe Sixpack makes a lot of sense in his column today about one of the unsung heroes of beer--red ales. So with a tip of my fedora to Don, I plan to savor this baby on St. Patty's Day, where, at my house, the tradition has not faltered for two decades: Green dyed 7-Up for the lads (when they were younger, of course) a fine ale or stout for me, some cookies, snacks and a DVD of the best St. Patty's day movie ever made--Darby O'Gill and The Little People. ( I still can't decide whether the gal lead is blind or not.)
I confess that Guinness was my choice of libation only once in twenty years, preferring Mackeson's XXX, Lancaster Milk Stout, or some other, higher ABV offering.
And don't be surprised if the youthful Sean Connery's delightful Irish aire ( as performed rather puckishly by my now-grown progeny) implants itself in your head, either.