Ah, 2017. You had your terrifying lows, and your... slightly less terrifying highs? It was a pretty unique year, is what we're saying. And now it's time to leave you behind. Here's what our writers will be drinking this NYE to cap things off.
Ben: New Year’s Eve is not to be trifled with. I trifled with it last year. I got too hoppy too early and I paid the price. At 4am, while I was vomiting into my parents’ sink, I resolved to cut down on the extreme beers next year. So now next year is here and I’m keeping things simple with a local easy-drinking ale – Sample Pale Ale. It still has a kick at 35 IBU, but it’s not going to leave you explaining yourself to your mum in the morning.
Luke: What's that? You're too good for rosé? Worried that friends and loved ones are going to mock you for the crisp, refreshing pink liquid filling your glass? Concerned that the heady combination of dry, acidic white and full-bodied red wine flavour is going to cast you as being somehow unmanly? Well, you know who drinks rosé? Gangster rapper Rick Ross and according to his music he has almost definitely killed a man. So drop your pre-conceptions, pick up an $18 bottle of Madfish shiraz rosé or if you're feeling fancy, anything from Provence or a Spanish rosado. Show the people at that NYE BBQ what a real wine drinker looks like.
Wilf: I usually adhere to the maxim 'drink what’s on hand', but passively aggressively ensure I only end up drinking in establishments selling great craft beer so my beer snob needs are met. Pact Beer’s Mount Tennent Pale Ale has been a godsend to thirsty punters in and around Canberra, but my other faves are Big Sur by The Grifter (great designs by these gentlemen, who also run Passport Skateboards), and I’m delighted to see Young Henrys are re-releasing their You Am I collab, Brew Am I. Hoppy New Year indeed.
Chris: My colleagues have played it safe this year. Pale ales. Rosés. More pale ales. Pft. It’s New Year’s, guys; live a little. I’m going to grab a couple bottles of Angry Peaches and enjoy my damn self. This is less balls-out crazy than Garage Project’s usual fare, but it’s still got a lot going on. The name is a bit of a misnomer – there are no actual peaches in the bottle – but notes of stone fruit are detectable thanks to the amarillo hops. What even are amarillo hops? Couldn’t tell you. But I can tell you that it tastes good. Even more so the next morning, during my yearly hair-of-the-dog ritual.