“Old socks,” my friend Duncan says, squared into a dark corner of Croxley’s Ale House, chowing on wings, “again.”
I am finding that there’s not much to say about these beers that one simply has to get through. (There are plenty better choices on the menu here, but they will have to wait their turn in the calendar.) Duncan initially confused this with our Saranac Oktoberfest at Copperfield’s and indeed there’s much in common. Both served in a glass, both the bar special, both a basic brown (although Saratoga supports a stronger head), both from upstate.
And both like the taste of musty athletic socks…so, now I’ve found the matching pair.
Rating: same as Saranac Oktoberfest