Drinking the 'Yellow Snow' at Longbeards

Sage advice like "don't eat the yellow snow" is not very meaningful on the Grand Strand, even if it lives on in the memory of some of our retired Yankee transplants.

Rogue Brewery, a left-coast beer maker with a sense of humor, offers us the opportunity to drink Yellow Snow, or Yellow Snow IPA, to be exact. I found it on tap at Longbeard's Bar and Grill, 5040 Carolina Forest Boulevard, which has one of the most incredible wood interiors I have ever seen in a restaurant.

IPAs, or India Pale Ales, can be a bit prickly for the novice beer drinker, and Yellow Snow certainly has its full-flavored impact. Fortunately, it's not as pungent as its namesake and accompanying pale, golden color would suggest - far from it. Like most brews from Rogue, I'll order it again.

Of course, we all know what "yellow snow" really refers to - it is snow that has turned yellow because either a dog took a leak or someone poured out a can of Busch Light.

Breckenridge Brewery's Agave WheatDuring my session at Longbeard's, I also tried Breckenridge Brewery's Agave Wheat. I haven't decided if I like it yet. It's an American-style unfiltered wheat beer made with the nectar of the Salmiana Agave, which makes for a distinctive taste.

I was treated to a taste of another Breckenridge brew on tap at Longbeard's, this one the Avalanche Ale, an American amber that goes easy on the hops and leans on the maltiness.

I enjoyed Longbeard's, its atmosphere, its beer, and its turkey melt. I'll be back.

In Carolina Forest, a big glass of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat

A cold and rainy Saturday afternoon does not tend to inspire the drinking of summery wheat beers, but after a morning's work I went to Buffalo Wild Wings in Carolina Forest (between Myrtle Beach and Conway, S.C.) and realized that the only thing on tap that I hadn't tried, or at least wasn't sure I had tried, was Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat. The Jacob Leinenkugel Brewing Co., based in Wisconsin, has made some small distribution forays into the Grand Strand.

I have this problem lately - I'll think about ordering a regular pint and then hear words like "the 23-ounce, please" coming out of my mouth. The barkeep brought an extra tall glass of glowing gold.

The weird thing about Leinie's Sunset Wheat - or, more likely, the weird thing about me - was the undeniable taste of blueberries that continued through the last ounce. Can taste buds hallucinate? Later, I read through the Leinekugel Web site's description of the beer a few times, and never saw the word "blueberry" in it.

So I'm crazy. But by the time I got to the bottom of the glass, I had associated the taste in my mouth with the blue tap handle and made the assumption that blueberry juice was added to the outstanding wheat beer.

The bill was $4.34. I can deal with that price for 23 ounces of a Leinie.

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