A nearby grocery store stocks a number of import beers. Each time I go through that aisle I pause to contemplate a six pack of Strongbow. Its a dry English cider that I sampled years ago as an a early teen.
While living in England as an army brat, my dad took me into a small pub in Richmond, North Yorkshire.
We each had a pint. As I recall, that was an amazing day, ending with my old man and I bonding over a cold one. That was thirty years ago...and the one and only time I had Strongbow. I always remembered the taste fondly. Smooth, tart, dry, with a hint of apple sweetness.
I'm not much of a drinker these days and rarely buy alcohol, but a few nights ago the pull down memory lane was to great to resist. As I found myself passing the imports, I barely slowed down as I plucked a six pack from the shelf. At the self checkout I was almost giddy with anticipation. As soon as I got home I grabbed a bottle opener and pried the cap off the first bottle. I made myself comfortable and with a brief pause to reflect on the moment I raised the bottle to my lips and allowed the cool liquid to splash along my tongue and down my throat....as that first swig hit bottom I pursed my lips almost involuntarily and shivered from the inside out.
My mind searched briefly for a descriptor appropriate enough for the experience but surprisingly, all it could come up with was "This tastes like shit."
All those years had passed and I remembered that stuff as one if the best drinks I had ever tasted. In reality it probably rates a close second to stale urine mixed with sour apple juice. YUK!
Maybe next time I'm offered the opportunity to have a taste of the past I'll be wise enough to stick with the memory.

