JAN 30, 2025 | FEATURES | By Megan Burich and Izzy Roe
Welcome back to another week of drinking beer! This week is a Megan takeover from Italy, where she is studying for Block 5. In a foreign nation, we still feel the ramifications of Trump’s election. With surprise Executive Order No. 115, signed on Monday, Jan. 27, Trump is now requiring two men to supervise every Beer for Babes article, hence, why Theo Tannahill ‘25 (one of the infamous copycats, Three Wine Bros) and Jack Veenstra ‘25 have joined Megan and another guest, Noa Mor ‘27, for this article. Another catastrophic loss for women this year. We have also been informed our column name will be changed to Beer. Our title got too complicated for our male readers, so welcome back to Beer!
Strict enforcement of the patriarchy led us to the Kronenbourg 1664 Blanc, 5% ABV (a French beer, not even Italian). We indulged in the lobby of the hostel we were staying at, surrounded by our kind, American college students visiting Florence for the weekend. It was not the most authentic abroad experience, but we realized that’s exactly what it is. In the home of Leonardo Da Vinci, we learned the true nature of going abroad may simply be the reclaiming of unsuspecting cities by those who attend the University of Michigan, eventually turning said cities across the globe into personal sinks for Papa’s AmEx Platinum card. Or, as it’s known stateside, a deep personal growth experience. We’re kidding, of course. Florence was beautiful. Anyways, back to the beer.
This brew was delightful. It was orange forward, light and slightly creamy. In other words, an orange creamsicle was swirled back and forth a few times in a Pilsner. It was reminiscent of the drink you bring to the first darty of the spring, as the sun warms your arms and the sound of some over-exuberant frat bro stumbling out of 1020 and falling into the fence calms your mind. Alternatively, it’s a beer you might want to have with your breakfast if that is your morning drink of choice. The orange contributed a mimosa-esque nature, which matched the relatively thick consistency of the drink. Chug-wise, there were slight issues. Nothing a powerful man’s throat couldn’t handle, though (Trump-mandated addition).
However, it was still very light on the tummy, a welcome quality as we pre-gamed for the massive bowls of pasta that awaited us at dinner. It was also cheap! We may have expected this, but it’s still a win in terms of efficiency. This beer paired well with conversations of the art (the butt of Michaelangelo’s David) we saw that day and the people watching (flocks of shockingly loud Boulder students in identical black leather jackets and slick back ponytails).
This was overall a super great beer, or as Theo would describe it, ‘it’s a beer you might reach for that won’t remind you of the awful night you had before.’ For us, that was needed. We saw a man, a boy really, stumble out of the bar, projectile vomit a plate of pasta onto a five-thousand-year-old wall, take a lap around the block, vomit again, and go right back in, ready for a study abroad special, four drinks for 14 euros. A scary sight, but a telling reminder. Back to Iowa State Pi Phi buddy, Europe isn’t for everyone (did that sound pretentious enough?).
Thanks for tuning in to a slightly different article this week. At Beer, we want to thank our valiant men for providing such amazing comedic additions. Where would we be without them? HELP HELP HELP PLEASE HELP. Anyway, see you next week!