Thirsty Thursdays: Stagmosa

| Staff Writer

In this first installment of “Thirsty Thursday,” Student Life writer and discerning gastronomic expert Harry Hall infuses the plebian popular culture term (and more recently, popular hashtag) #thirstythursday with a generous serving of taste and sophistication. Here, in the inaugural column, he details the subtleties of the “Stagmosa.”

Any alcoholic gourmand will appreciate the refreshing flavor of a summer shandy (beer and lemonade, in most any ratio), but few have similarly savored its quiet cousin: the Stagmosa. It’s derived from the mimosa, whose credited origin story traces its legacy back to 1925 and the Ritz Hotel in Paris (not surprisingly, a London bar claims a competing story of invention). For all we know, the Stagmosa may have been whetting informed palates just as long, though it has existed quietly without the ritzy reputation of its namesake.

stagmosaIllustration by Josh Zucker and Ethan Jaynes

Local honored brand Stag Beer makes the base of this cocktail, with any orange juice filling in the remainder. In 1851, Stag was first produced as “Kaiser” beer in Belleville, Ill.—just athwart River Mississippi—and it was formally christened “Stag” in 1907 (brewers had begun to hear rumblings from the Rhineland). Since its creation, the beer’s bracing barley flavor makes it stand out from other comparable lagers.

The brass tacks for a Stagmosa call for equal parts beer and orange juice, though a 2:1 or 3:1 ratio also works well if one feels especially daring. In any combination, the drink promises a libation smoother than the screwdriver and less highfaluting than the mimosa. The sweet citrus elixir blends well with a malty ale like Stag and makes for pleasant drinking evening and morn.

But I don’t mean to state idiom without reality. Well-documented evidence supports the popular assumption that a steamy shower will accentuate the subtle aromatics of both oranges and conventional beer, and this humble writer sees no reason why the two could not be united in a chilled Stagmosa to wake one up and cool one down during one’s weekday morning dorm ablutions.

A bit of saloon etiquette: One may feel compelled, having read this well-informed column, to impress upon one’s modest tender of bar a desire to enjoy a beer and orange juice (take the deer by its horns, as we used to toast) but with a lager other than the noble Stag. One may feel, having become cognizant of the aforementioned cocktail’s portmanteau, that one may submit a request for a “Budmosa,” perhaps a “Millermosa” or even (my heart feigns to imagine whoever might consider it) a “Rolling Rockmosa.” Be forewarned: Such orders would represent to any self-respecting tapster either a serious breach of decorum or simple balderdash. Rather, the informed tippler will order a “Stagmosa with Budweiser” like a true gentlewoman or man. That is, if she or he so wishes to stray from the original celestial compound, the sweet and hoppy Stagmosa.