The Old Broke Rancher Reviews Eggnog

I think I've got an eggnog problem.

There, I said it. I hope you won't judge me. Anyway, I'm more surprised by it than anyone.

When I was a kid, I hated the stuff. Maybe because of the titular eggs. I didn't know what nog was, and I still don't. Maybe, I thought, "nog" was something you did to an egg. And having done it, the egg was now nogged, and eggnog was the result. I didn't want to picture what it took to nog an egg.

Now, I say nog my egg, and be quick about it, old boy.

Maybe you think that I love eggnog now because of the booze. Well, that's uncharitable of you. Just because I discovered a passion for eggnog in what I choose to call my late late late late late adolescence doesn't mean it's because of the booze.

In fact, I don't really like eggnog with booze mixed in. I find it ruins the otherwise perfectly slippery texture of the drink, not to mention greatly mars the uncanny sheen of a really good glass of eggnog which, if you like your egg nogged the way I do, should look as shiny as if it were molded out of plastic and sold by Mattel.

No, reader, I like to have my whiskey, brandy, or rum first and have the eggnog as a chaser.

Or, I guess I should say that I sometimes drink a little booze with my eggnog, but not always. Almost as if (I'm just discovering this as I write it) I like eggnog more than booze. This seems crazy, but I feel in my heart it is true. I'm beside myself with amazement.

I even put it in my coffee. Maybe you do too. Well, congratulations; that's entry-level eggnog addiction. But can you dig this - I have taken to pouring it onto my Wheaties.

I like the way the eggnog coats the surface of every individual flake. It must be the nogged egg that does that.

It's gotten so bad that I've started lying to my family to make excuses for myself. Like last Tuesday, on which fell our weekly observance of Taco Tuesday.

"Oh, ouch, ouch, ouch! These tacos are very spicy!" I shouted at my family, who started in surprise at my vehemence. I had only put on a few drops of hot sauce, after all.

"This simply will not do," I shout, rising out my chair and groping for the handle of the fridge. "I need something to salve the heat which is now burning in my mouth! What will quench this fire?"

A glass of eggnog will, I decided, and poured myself one as my family rolled their eyes.

Last week after church I approached the pastor with an idea.

"Pastor Mayhew, I don't know if it would be sacrilegious, but what do you think of the idea of replacing the sacramental wine with eggnog just for the Christmas service? It would be sort of festive, don't you think? I don't think God would mind, would He? It's His son's birthday!"

The good Pastor was not amused. If anything, he was concerned. I hope he doesn't notice when I sneak a flask full of eggnog into the service next week. Also, do you have any idea how hard it is to suck eggnog out of the impossibly slender neck of a metal pocket flask? Either do I, but if you do, please tell me so I know what to expect.

Then there's cooking with eggnog. Everyone's made eggnog pancakes, or eggnog muffins. But have you tried Eggnog Stroganoff or Eggnog Sausage? Are you brave and pioneering enough to consider Eggnog Mashed Potatoes?

But that's enough of a preamble. I present, with no further ado, the Old Broke Rancher's reviews of popular eggnog brands:

Darigold Eggnog:

Delicious. Thick and creamy. I had two glasses. Five stars out of five.

Meadow Gold Eggnog:

Exceptionally eggy. The experience of drinking this eggnog is like hosting a Christmas ball in your mouth, and every single one of your tastebuds are invited to the party. Each is then given a beautiful gift bag containing a $1,000 in hundreds. Five stars out of five.

Lucerne Seasonal Eggnog (available by the half gallon):

Rapturous. Let's say that, in between me and a carton of Lucerne Seasonal Eggnog, Godzilla stands in all his terrifying hugeness. Well, get out of the way big guy, because I'm coming and there's no stopping me. I'm going to be standing atop your big, lousy carcass, having a celebratory sip - ah hell, who am I kidding: a monster-sized gulp - of Lucerne Seasonal Eggnog. Five stars out of five.

Lactaid Lactose-Free Eggnog:

Incredible. If I had the power, I would put a glass of this profoundly delicious elixir into the hands of every man, woman, and child on this earth this Christmas, bar none. And if any of them didn't like it, I would personally kick them in the shins, first one and then the other. Five stars out of five.

Southern Comfort Traditional Eggnog:

Astonishing. What if the Three Wise Men, rather than a light in the sky, had followed a giant, floating carton of SoCo Traditional Eggnog? Would they still have arrived just in time, or would they have arrived a week earlier, with gingersnaps for dunking? We can only speculate. Five stars out of five.

Southern Comfort Vanilla Spice Eggnog:

Superlative. What if the Three Wise Men, rather than a light in the sky, had followed a giant, floating carton of SoCo Vanilla Spice Eggnog? Would they still have arrived just in time, or would they have arrived a week earlier, with gingersnaps for dunking? We can only speculate. Five stars out of five.

Bolthouse Farms Holiday Nog:

Yum yum. I wish they hadn't given in to the nightmarish War on Eggs that's gripping this country and obscured the "egg" from their name, but thankfully there are eggs in it, and the flavor is good enough to make you want to gain a hundred pounds, grow a big beard, and say "ho ho ho." Five stars out of five.

Shamrock Farms Pumpkin Spice Eggnog:

I don't like pumpkin spice, and I would still trade all of my happiest childhood memories for even a one in ten chance of having a few more precious drops of Shamrock Farms Pumpkin Spice Eggnog wrung out of a greasy rag and into my waiting mouth. Five stars out of five.

Silk Soy Eggnog:

Disgusting. Abominable filth. Zero stars out of five.