Beer Dinner

Recently we were the fortunate recipients of a care package from Iowa. While that might not make most people giddy with excitement, it's all about knowing the right person in Iowa.

One of E's friends is an award-winning home brewer, as well as a loyal reader of Brim. You may know him as mrT. He was kind enough to send us some of his magic, and to celebrate the bounty we put together a very simple beer-themed dinner.

The first selection for the evening was a double pale. If my beer research serves me right, the "double" refers to adding twice the normal amount of malt and hops, which imparts a stronger flavor and a higher alcohol content. This beer clocked in at just under 10 percent.

You can see the color for yourself. The flavors were bitter orange with a nice balance of carmel malt and green hops. It was a big full-bodied pale ale that called for something rich to go with it.

To go with the pale ale, I put together some mini-pizzas with smoked salmon, caramelized Vidalia onion, goat cheese and sautéed asparagus spears. A very nice combination, I must say. Asparagus can be notoriously difficult to pair with wine. The bold ale paired nicely without overwhelming.

Next up was the Potter Porter. Having a beer named in our honor was enough to predispose me to love it, but there was plenty to love anyway. It was hard to capture the glory of the artfully designed label, but it proclaims this beer as "a marriage of wine and beer" and even features a photo from our own nuptials. I was speechless when I saw it.

Tasting it was even better. Infused with a California red blend, this had the most intriguing nose: raisin, roasted malt and a hint of anise. The flavor was dominated by the rich malt and chocolate with notes of coffee and raisin. The mouthfeel was very lush and smooth.


To pair with such an elegant brew, I cooked up a couple bacon-wrapped fillets (and made sure not to burn them). I know I'm a bit predictable with the balsamic reduction, but it's so damn good. I finished off the plate with some baby greens, chopped heirloom tomatoes, a dollop of potato salad and some crumbled bleu cheese. The smooth, rich beer was perfect, and the flavor opened up even more as it warmed.

The final beer was a chocolate porter, which we paired with a bit of dark chocolate. I served it a bit too cold at first, but as it warmed up the chocolate came through, along with notes of malt, toffee and nuts. It might have been my imagination, but I picked up some more carbonation in this one, which gave it a lighter mouthfeel.

The Potter Porter was our favorite, of course, but they were all exceptional. My beer palate is still developing, but I'm getting better at picking up on the nuances. You might notice the glassware as Riedel "O" red wine tumblers. I love drinking beer out of them.

Here's a great big "thank you" to mrT for sharing his hard work with us. It's amazing to see what's possible with home brewing, and it was lots of fun to match such amazing beers with food. I need to do it more often.

Cheers.

Chicken on the Grill

It all started when I started making my own spaghetti sauce instead of opening a jar.

Once you taste the difference between things made from scratch (or close to it) and things that come from a factory, you’re hooked. At least, that’s been the case with me.

Processed foods – even the best versions – taste processed. There are plenty of pre-made sauces, dressings and such that I truly like, but usually after I make my own version I just can’t go back.

I've recently made the switch from using bottled barbecue sauce to making my own. Of course, in my house "barbecue sauce" can mean either of two completely different sauces. Barbecue sauce can be sauce you add to pulled pork, or a sauce you brush on chicken, pork chops or ribs during the final minutes of cooking. The latter is really a basting or brush-on sauce.

Remember, this is Carolina. Barbecue is a noun, not a verb. If someone from the Carolinas asks you what kind of barbecue sauce you favor, what they’re really asking is: vinegar, tomato or mustard?

When I make pulled pork, I want a vinegar-based sauce (recipe at the end of this post). For a long time, I've been using Sticky Fingers, Sweet Baby Ray’s or Stubb's (or a combination thereof) as a brush-on sauce and – in a pinch – I’d still use any of those.

However, one night when I was out of bottled sauce I decided to make my own. It was easier than running to the store. From there it's all been history.

The other night I had a whole chicken I wanted to do on the grill. I started by removing the backbone and flattening it out. Whole chickens cook much easier that way. Next, I rubbed it down with a little spice mix. I'd tell you what the mix was...but I have no earthly idea.

My house spice mix tends to get a little out of control, and I lose track of what's in there.

Here's the chicken ready for the grill.

Removing the backbone from a chicken is easy with the right kitchen shears. These were my grandmother's. They're vintage Washington Forge with Bakelite handles. They slice through chicken bones like warm butter.

I'd show you the chicken on the grill, but I wouldn't want anyone to call the health department regarding my ancient Weber. Instead, here's the chicken, fully-cooked and brushed with sauce.

This is a very simple summer meal in the South: barbecue chicken with potato salad and a green salad (not pictured). I just cut the chicken in half to serve, because it was a pretty small bird. What we didn't eat made an excellent lunch for me the next day.

Something sweet and slightly hot like barbecued chicken calls for just the right wine. Garnacha is perfect. This little Spanish number has bright cherry and raspberry notes with a hint of white pepper. It was a great choice for this meal.

Altovinum "Evodia" Garnacha Calatayud 2007 ($9.99, Winestore)

Here's my sauce recipe. I know this sounds like a witch’s brew, but I swear it’s quite tasty.

John's #7 Sauce

2 cups ketchup
1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup red wine
1/4 cup mustard
1/4 honey
1/3 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup finely minced red onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan. Simmer gently for 30 minutes or so, until flavors meld.

Home Brew

I grew up in Delaware – Wilmington, Delaware to be precise.

It’s not a well-known state. Although our current vice president is a Delaware politician, he’s not a native. When I tell people I’m from Delaware, they usually say, “Oh yeah, I‘ve been through there on 95.” The swath of Interstate 95 that cuts through northern Delaware actually runs right behind where I went to elementary school.

Fortunately, my home state can now boast a distinction other than being someplace you pass through while running drugs to New York. It’s also the home of Dogfish Head.

Okay, Dogfish Head is in Milton, which is to Wilmington what Sagaponack is to New York City, but it’s still in the same state.

And, Dogfish Head is one of the best small breweries in the entire country, along with being a brewpub and, most recently, a distillery. Sam Calagione, the founder, is a certified madman, passionate brewer and marketing genius. If you love beer, you know about Dogfish Head.

Since it’s not available here in South Carolina, I’ve been bootlegging it in from Charlotte. Well worth the effort, I might add.

On my last run, I picked up a some of the India Brown Ale. Wow. This is the perfect example of their irreverent take on beer. It’s a three-way cross between a Scotch ale, a brown ale and an India pale ale.

Here’s a link to some info from the brewery and a quick video of Sam himself talking about it.

I’ll just say it’s currently one of my favorites. The balance between hops, malt and sweetness is sublime. The flavors lean towards coffee, dark chocolate and caramel malt without being cloying, and it finishes very clean and refreshing.

Go Delaware.

Something New

Change is good.

My wine drinking habits tend to fall into a rut rather easily. Making an occasional jaunt to Charlotte has been refreshing as far as finding different wines. Although I still gravitate towards the same types of wine, not shopping in the same place week after week makes me a bit more adventurous.

My go-to wine shop is a little weak when it comes to South American wines. I’ve worked my way through most of what they have, so I tend to ignore it except for the occasional bottle of malbec. Thus, I was excited to discover this wine at Winestore in Charlotte (I'll have more to say about this place later).

Urban Uco Torrontés 2008, ($8.99, Winestores)

Torrontés is a native to Argentina and seems to be gaining respect in the wine world. South America has amazing potential for winemaking, and it's nice to drink a native wine versus something made to satisfy the palates of foreigners.

The nose on this wine is wildly tropical with notes of melon and peach. There's more of the same in the mouth with pronounced banana and a refreshing mineral finish. A crisp acidity holds it all together.

It also showed wonderfully with our dinner. I was on my A-game this night, so I have to share some pictures.

Heirloom tomato salads with red onion, basil and goat cheese

Spicy scallops and roasted-garlic pasta

I did the pasta for this dish a little differently than my normal garlic pasta and it worked out pretty well. I roasted a head of garlic first. Then I made a slurry of two tablespoons of melted butter, one tablespoon of olive oil, the garlic, the juice of a lemon and salt/pepper. I tossed the cooked pasta with the slurry and a generous amount of chopped flat-leaf parsley.

It was not bad at all.

Cold Beer

Of all the things I’ve come to love about the South, the way people talk is certainly high up on the list.

The southern accent is great, whether it’s a country twang or a sophisticated drawl. My brother once told me that a southern accent can make anyone sound stupid. To some people I suppose it might, but – to my ears – a Yankee accent can make anyone sound like a jerk.

Southern people also say things that you just don’t hear anywhere else. A heavy downpour is a “gully-washer” or a “frog-choker.” A good looking woman is “hotter-than-a-$2-pistol.”

I used to work with a bunch of good-old boys (and girls) from Eastern North Carolina, and they schooled me in the finer points of Southern-Speak. I picked up enough colloquialisms to last me a lifetime.

Woven into the southern accent and local terminology is an ever-present hospitality. One of things I loved about going to college in the South was that you could walk into a party where you didn’t know a soul and you’d be welcomed – most of the time anyway.

You knew you were okay when somebody said, “Get ya a cold beer, man.” That’s pronounced as one word – colebeer. I like that – “cold beer” – as if someone would offer you a lukewarm beer.

Even though I’ve graduated from keg beer in plastic cups and 16-ounce cans of Natural Light, there’s still something appealing about really cold beer in a can. I once had a friend in the distributing business that would slip me free cases of Coors Light every now and again. After a hot day spent working in the yard, an ice-cold Coors Light tastes mighty good.

Nowadays I get my canned beer fix with Dale’s Pale Ale from Oskar Blues Grill and Brewery. Although I can’t quite bring myself to actually drink it out of the can, I do enjoy cracking one (or two) open after work – even if my work mostly occurs in an air-conditioned cubicle.

Dale’s is certainly in the running for the best beer available in a can. It has a nice balance between malt and hops with an earthy citrus flavor. I’ll definitely be trying the other beers from these folks.

It’s Friday. Get ya a cold beer (or other libation).

Good Wine, Bad Label

Dr. Jebediah Drinkwell's Meritage Paso Robles 2007 ($6.99, Trader Joe's)

Here's a great example of what Trader Joe's does well. They have some really good, inexpensive wines.

Despite the ridiculous name and cheesy label, this is a tasty bottle of wine. Why anyone would choose Yellow Tail Shiraz or the like over this is way beyond my comprehension.

Did I mention the cheesy label? Let me draw your attention to the back label.

I'm guessing the way it works with wines like this is: TJ's contracts with a big wine outfit (Central Coast Wine Warehouse in this case) that creates a custom blend and an exclusive label for the chain. To their credit, TJ's does a great job of picking interesting, drinkable blends (which I have a particular affection for).

This is a Bordeaux-via-Paso Robles blend of mostly cabernet franc with merlot, cabernet sauvignon, malbec and petite verdot in descending prominence. The flavors and aromas are black cherry, blackberry, dark chocolate and bell pepper with a firm grip of tannins at the end.

It's tasty and amazingly well-balanced for the price.

White Wine Is for Women?

This a follow-up to this post. I should have known that The New York Times would have the perfect quote on the subject. In his article, "Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch," Michael Pollan writes of Julia Child:

Julia never referred to her viewers as “housewives” — a word she detested — and never condescended to them. She tried to show the sort of women who read “The Feminine Mystique” that, far from oppressing them, the work of cooking approached in the proper spirit offered a kind of fulfillment and deserved an intelligent woman’s attention. (A man’s too.) Second-wave feminists were often ambivalent on the gender politics of cooking. Simone de Beauvoir wrote in “The Second Sex” that though cooking could be oppressive, it could also be a form of “revelation and creation; and a woman can find special satisfaction in a successful cake or a flaky pastry, for not everyone can do it: one must have the gift.” This can be read either as a special Frenchie exemption for the culinary arts (féminisme, c’est bon, but we must not jeopardize those flaky pastries!) or as a bit of wisdom that some American feminists thoughtlessly trampled in their rush to get women out of the kitchen.

It’s probably also worth mentioning that cooking — done correctly — can also be an act of seduction, whether you’re a man or a woman. Cooking is art and alchemy rolled into one. If I could sum up Pollan's article in one sentence, it would be: We should all be cooking more.

Thinking about the gender dynamics of cooking got me thinking about the gender and wine. As with cooking, I’m thinking about the way that wine is viewed in this country.

If you look around at most parties, you’ll see men drinking beer or liquor and women drinking wine. It depends, of course, on what kind of a party it is and what part of the country you’re in, but I’ll bet it holds true more often than not.

However, if you look at the wine business, you’ll find more men making wine and selling wine, more men working as sommeliers and even more men blogging about wine.

Just as with grilling is more masculine than baking, red wine is somehow more masculine than white wine.

It reminds me of a guy who came into the wine store one day and asked me to point him to the Arbor Mist. This big, burly guy picked up a bottle of Peach Chardonnay and said, “I know it’s not very manly, but on a hot day at the beach — there’s nothing better.”

I say, Go for it, brother. Drink what you like.

If I’m at a party, I don’t think twice about grabbing a glass of wine — red, white or sparkling. I make my choice based on what looks good and what I’m in the mood for.

Although, I won’t touch Arbor Mist. That’s just nasty.

Weekend Update

We're in the midst of the worst of summer here in South Carolina, which means that Friday night called for something cool to sip on after work. Dinner was salmon fillets, so white wine seemed too thin. Instead, I opened a bottle of Les Vignerons de Tavel "Cuvée Royal" Tavel 2008 ($12.99, Green's).

Tavel is arguably the best place for rosé in the world. This wine certainly supports that argument. It's mellow and sophisticated with flavors of dried cherries and herbs and a smooth, long finish. It was the perfect match for the salmon.

Speaking of which, here's dinner sizzling on my stovetop grill. A couple weeks ago, I was cooking crab cakes on the other side of the grill (here's the post). I've had the grill for years, but didn't appreciate it for a long time. I've finally figured out how useful it is.

When the weather isn't cooperating or I'm too lazy to fire up the grill, it's a lifesaver. I use it for French toast, burgers, crab cakes, fish, pancakes, potato croquettes and any number of other things. You can find it here, although my model didn't have a non-stick coating. I took me a while to season it properly.

Here's dinner in it's final form.

A hot summer Saturday at our house requires enough white wine for a couple glasses in the afternoon, a glass for an unexpected guest and some leftover to serve with dinner. Lenz Moser Grüner Veltliner 2008 1-liter bottle is the perfect thing. It's fresh, lively and uncomplicated with flavors of tart green apple and pear.

The subtle flavors and tight acidity were perfect with a simple dinner of spicy scallops and garlic pasta served with broiled asparagus (we had some we didn't use Friday).

Sunday has been a long day, as we made a jaunt to Charlotte for provisions. Dinner is going to be barbecue (pulled from the freezer) sandwiches with coleslaw, some sort of potatoes and a very simple salad.

Just as soon as I finish my beer.

Old Brown Dog Ale, Smuttynose Brewing Company, $9.29/six-pack 12 oz. bottles, Green's

Happy Sunday, y'all.

Wine Blogging Wednesday #60

Zinfandel has a special place in my pantheon of wines. When I was starting down the road to being a wino, I became friends with a guy who had been buying zins since the late 1970s.

Needless to say, being friends with a complete zin-nut exposes you some really great wines. He was a big fan of Ridge Vineyards, and I tasted some extraordinary Ridge wines and other magnificent zins thanks to him.

So, I was thrilled that Megan at Wannabe Wino selected zinfandel for the theme of Wine Blogging Wednesday #60. It gave me an excuse to seek out something new and different…and to spend a little more than my usual budget.

The wine I picked was Fritz Winery Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley 2005 ($17.99, Green’s). Dry Creek is a great region for zinfandel, and 2005 was a good year overall for California. It’s also an estate-bottled wine, which I always like.

Right next to the bottle I selected was a Fritz 2005 “barrel select” zinfandel for almost double the price, which had received a 91 point rating from one of the wine magazines. This told me that the winery most likely had a stellar vintage worthy of a top-dollar wine. That also told me that their front-line wine was probably pretty damn good.

I was correct. One whiff of the nose gave up a heady mixture of red and black fruits along with menthol and spice. The first sip was more of the same with a lush, rich mouthfeel and a wonderfully long finish culminating with a firm grip of tannin.

I don’t throw around that kind of wine speak lightly. It’s really good stuff.

Megan asked us to grill or barbecue something to go along with the zin, but rainy weather kept my cooking efforts indoors. I ended up pan-searing some tenderloin fillets and serving them up with my go-to favorites: balsamic reduction and some goat cheese to top the steaks, and roasted garlic mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach on the side.

Any longtime readers know that steaks are my Achilles Heel. I’ve been on a roll lately, so I was due for a screw up. For all my talk about being a decent cook, I've ruined more steaks than I care to think about, which is somewhat astounding because I like them pretty rare.

You wouldn’t think it would be that damn hard.

But, they were thin fillets, and I left them in the pan a little too long. The steaks ended up being served with an extra helping of profanity. Sigh. At least I had an excellent wine to distract me.

Over the course of dinner, the Fritz zin opened up even more. We tossed around descriptors as we sipped: strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, black cherry, raisin, cinnamon, anise, mint and few more I forgot.

Thanks to Megan for picking a great theme and to WBW founding father, Lenn Thompson.

Cheers, y'all.

Confessions of a Kitchen Bitch

In her recent article, “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off,” in The Atlantic, Sandra Tsing Loh writes about marital relations and divorce. Along the way, she makes a few snarky comments about men who cook or—more accurately—a certain type of man who is obsessed with cooking.

“To work, to parent, to housekeep, to be the ones who schedule 'date night,' only to be reprimanded in the home by male kitchen bitches, and then, in the bedroom, to be ignored—it’s a bum deal.”

She really hammers one particular man who is devoted to Cooks Illustrated and his "online fennel club," but you get the feeling she's going after a certain type of guy.

Since I’m a man who cooks (although not usually obsessively), this got me thinking about the gender implications of cooking. Is cooking a masculine or feminine thing?

In some homes, cooking has been traditionally regarded as “women’s work,” along with housecleaning and laundry. But, the world of commercial cooking has long been dominated by men.

Certain types of cooking are thought of as more gender specific than others. Baking is stereotypically feminine, while grilling is the epitome of manliness.

I grew up in a home with very traditional roles in the kitchen. Dad went off to work; mom took care of the kids and put dinner on the table every night. I have some vague memories of my dad doing something in the kitchen, but they are few and far between.

I’ve written before about my mom teaching me the basics of cooking. She was a firm believer in showing her three boys essential life skills such as cooking, cleaning and doing laundry. Such things were never considered women’s work in our house. She cooked because it made sense.

My dad is retired now and, ironically, has enthusiastically embraced some culinary activities. As a former chemical engineer, I imagine he appreciates the alchemy of cooking. He also likes to eat, much like his son.

I spent a number of years working in a café where the duties were well-defined: the women ran the register and the guys made the food. In the last kitchen I worked in, there was one female chef. Women in restaurant kitchens are fairly common these days, but men vastly outnumber them.

In the current era of celebrity chefs and TV cooking shows ad nauseam, lots of men are getting into cooking. Some might even be a little obsessed with it. I am certainly familiar with this phenomenon, although it’s probably a bit more common in Tsing Loh's social circle than mine.

I wrote just recently about cooking. I cook because I like to cook. E is a good cook, but she’s happy to sip wine and keep me company. True to the stereotype, she’s much better at baking than I am.

But, am I a male kitchen bitch? At the very least, E doesn't call me that publicly.

I don’t think cooking is either masculine or feminine. I do have to chuckle at a strong, independent woman like Tsing Loh mocking men for being overly interested in cooking, after so many years of women demanding more sharing of household responsibilities. Maybe it's a case of, be careful what you wish for.

I would encourage any young man (or woman) to develop some ability in the kitchen. It will reap major dividends for your health, your waistline and, quite possibly, your love life. Do not, however, forgo the affection of your wife, husband, partner or significant other for an evening curled up with the latest issue of Cooks Illustrated.

That just seems like common sense.

Cooking should be an act of love, regardless of your gender. It should be about providing delicious and healthy food for yourself, your loved ones and your friends. A good meal is also time well spent: talking, laughing, possibly drinking and enjoying the company of others.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back in the kitchen.

Pour Decisions

Thanks to one loyal reader (that's you, mrT) and one new friend (that would be you, J), I've gained a renewed appreciation for malted beverages as of late.

Beer deserves a place at the table, just as much as wine. As with sports and politics, most people fall clearly in the beer drinker or wine drinker category. I'm happy to say that I refuse to choose sides. I like both. Here are a couple brews I've enjoyed lately:

Mikkeller All Others Pale ($9.99, 22 oz. bottle, Brawley's Beverage)


Ten bucks for a 22 ounce beer is a little pricey for my blood, but I suppose it's nothing compared to what I'll spend on the right bottle of wine. The design on this label suckered me in.

It's very different from what I'd expect in an American Pale Ale, which it is an homage to. It's more woodsy than citrusy with pronounced dry hops and smokey barley flavors. I want to taste more from these crazy Danes. Be sure to check out their impressive Web site.

Smuttynose Brewing Company Star Island Single ($10.49, six-pack of 12 oz. bottles, Brawley's Beverage)


I can't say enough good things about Smuttynose. I've been (somewhat) slowly drinking my way through their line-up, and I've yet to find one of their brews I don't like. This ale is very smooth with flavors of orange peel, dried herbs and just a hint of sweetness. It's a bit different, in a good way.

Here's to beer.

(I have to apologize for the cheesy word play in the title of this post. Sometimes I just can't help myself. It occured to me that I could write a post called, "Poor Decisions," which would be about my 20s. But, that's probably best left unwritten.)

Full Circle

One of the first wines I loved was Chianti Classico. I read somewhere that they represented a very good value, so I started seeking them out. It was also a good match for the first thing I learned to cook—spaghetti with red sauce.

I thought of all this the other night when I made a batch of red sauce and opened a bottle of Rocca delle Macìe Chianti Classico 2006. This is a great time of year for my red sauce, because I can step out to the garden and snip some fresh oregano, thyme and sage. Toss that in with some crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes, olive oil, a little bit of ground beef, a splash of red wine and season with salt and pepper, and you've got some serious comfort food.


I can never remember what the black rooster (the gallo nero) means, so I consulted Wikipedia. They have a really good write up on Chianti.

The Rocca delle Macìe is dark and rich, with flavors of black cherry, licorice and dried herbs. It's the perfect match for a hearty red sauce.

Cin-cin, y'all.

A Word From Our Sponsor

There been lots of talk lately about bloggers, free swag, advertising and ethics. I don’t accept any advertising, although I do get the occasional pitch–even with my paltry site traffic.

I certainly don’t think there’s anything wrong with receiving sample wines and reviewing them fairly, assuming that you’re forthcoming about where they came from. There's really nothing wrong with putting advertisements on your blog either. Astute readers can easily spot someone who's just schilling for a corporate buck.

Because I’m not a big name blogger, it's been a long time since anyone offered up any samples. The last one came from Twisted Oak Winery (here’s the post). I can say without any bias whatsoever that any wine from Twisted Oak will be the best you’ve ever had, serving Twisted Oak wines will win you the admiration of friends and loved ones, and drinking Twisted Oak wines will add years to your life.

The wineries and businesses I write about are the ones I like and patronize. My job offers me ample opportunities to write a bunch of bogus junk for the sake of a dollar.

A couple years back, my brother and sister-in-law sent me a tasting pack of Balsamic Vinegar of Modena from Ditalia. At the time I knew very little about balsamic vinegar, except that some were better than others.

The tasting pack was great, as it gave me the opportunity to taste them side-by-side, which really shows the differences. For a good explanation of making and grading balsamic vinegar, take a look at this. I ended up ordering another tasting pack, before deciding to buy a large bottle of inexpensive stuff and a small bottle of the really good four-leaf stuff.

The cheap stuff is for making salad dressings, sauces and reductions; the good stuff is for dipping bread and drizzling on vegetables, cheese and whatever else suits you. It’s absolutely wonderful with fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream.

We ordered a new bottle of the good stuff a week or so ago from Ditalia. When it hadn’t showed up, a check of the Fed Ex tracking showed it had been left at our door several days prior. Apparently one of the neighborhood lowlifes had walked off with it. (I can just imagine him or her enjoying the heist with some fire-roasted tomato bruschetta.)

E contacted both Fed Ex and Ditalia. Someone from Ditalia immediately contacted her, apologized and told her they would send a replacement, which is what I expected would happen. However, neither of us expected the Fed Ex truck to roll up the next day with the replacement. They had it sent overnight.

Now, that is exceptional customer service. We would have been fine with waiting a couple more days, even though our current bottle was dangerously low. When a company goes above and beyond what you expect, that’s when it’s worth writing about.