Many people just don't understand that the mixers used for drinks are just as important, if not more so, than the spirit used. An icky sweet ginger beer or sour tonic will ruin your drink and create a tear in the fabric in time.

Here at Highball Hijinks, we are all about trying to create quality experiences. I would rather have one fantastic G & T than a pitcher full of swill that attempts to pass for it. 

One mixer I use often is ginger beer. I enjoy Moscow Mules, London Mules, Berry Mules, and other mules in general. I am a mule gal. My one true rule for ginger beer is that somewhere in the list of ingredients on the bottle/can, it MUST say ginger in some form be it extract, ginger root infusion, or ginger root. It has to have actual ginger in it. I also won't buy anything ever at all at any time that has HFCS in it. Just say no.
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​As you can see in the picture, I went a little nuts bringing together different ginger beers for this taste test. There are so many from which to choose; it can be sort of intimidating, but I was totally set on forcing my testers to run the ginger beer gauntlet. And run it they did. Three of my kiddies and I spent a delightful afternoon smelling, tasting, and swishing these ginger beers. The opinions are solely ours. If there's a brand we didn't particularly love, but you do, then that's great. You do you. When we say a ginger beer is spicy, we don't mean it's spicy hot; there's just a lot of spice affecting the taste.

Back in the day when I was a novice drinker, Coors came out with a "refreshing citrus beverage" called Zima. I vividly recall sitting on the deck with my father drinking a Zima spiked with cinnamon schnapps. It was the 90s, be nice.

​In 2017, Zima was re-released. I tried quite hard to get my hands on some, just to wax rhapsodic about my youth which is slipping away at an alarming rate. I digress. I did not manage to find any. My memories of my pops and me sharing a quiet afternoon sipping ice cold cinnamon Zima would go forever as just that: memories. ​However, the other day in the liquor store I spotted Zima in the cooler. Could this be true? Was it a mirage or wishful thinking? NO! Lo and behold, Zima was there on the shelf, just waiting for my arrival and subsequent rush of father/daughter memories. I was the proud owner of six bottles of the elusive elixir of my youth. Two shooters of cinnamon whatnot and I was headed home with my spoils.
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​I was genuinely worried that I had romanticized this whole thing in my head. It wouldn't be the first time I had done so. Was it really quite as delightfully refreshing as I recall? It was all a horrific possibility.