Shiner Bock -- in hand

In the past couple of weeks of travel, I was home one evening for a brief turnaround. I had about 8 hours to repack, sleep in my own bed, and drive back to the airport. But, what joy! I had a message from Cincinnati that my Shiner Bock had arrived. (Excuse me, while I go get one from the refrigerator and enjoy it while I type this. ... Ahhh, much better.) I was worried since the message could have been as much as a week old. I rang them from the airport in Chicago the next day, breathless that they'd sold my order already. I could envision Shiner beer-starved Texans screaming behind barricades with money in their fists. They assured me they had 100 cases and mine was safe until I returned this week.

Today, I made the road trip to Cincy to pick up my beer. Now, let me say, the place I went is apparently a Cincinnati institution -- Jungle Jim's. Part amusement park, part grocery store, and garden center, I think. I was prepared for their self-proclaimed "International Foodie's Delight". I was greeted with Disney-like parking and a grocery store that was somewhere between a Meier and a giant Trader Joe's. All I can say is it was just a giant grocery store. All regular products. I saw nothing that I couldn't find here in Indy -- and a surprising few specialty international items. (I wasn't impressed.) I also saw the largest selection of cheap wine I've seen in a long, long time including an entire aisle of jug wine. Now that's class. (And this is coming from a girl who lives in Indiana!) The Shiner Bock was pallet stacked in the middle of the beer section. I was so overwhelmed by the sheer size and craziness of the place that I didn't even take the time to look for any good lambics or frambrois. It took me 10 minutes to find the checkout lanes. Luckily, my biggest decision was two cases or three. I chose three.