Every week in The Man Who Invented Beer, Adam Cowden talks the latest in craft beers, American and otherwise.

’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was drinking, except Santa Klaus.
For after he slipped down the chimney with care,
He went to the fridge, just to see what was there.

And ‘lo and behold, sitting there by the bread
Was a beer so exciting, he knocked his old head!
A holiday lager, his favorite at that.
From those folks up at Lakefront who never fall flat.

For up in Milwaukee, the land of beer batter,
There once were two brothers — home brewing mad hatters.
Born into a family with old ties to Schlitz,
These guys knew their beer, young Ross and Jim Klisch.

1987 they gave it a go,
They founded their brewery, which started to grow.
And one decade later, Jim said with a tear,
“We brew so much beer, Russ, we just can’t stay here.”

And so those two moguls, ingenious and quick,
Bought up an old coal plant, and that did the trick!
Today they produce lots of beer to their name,
30,000 or so are the barrels they claim.

But what Santa saw on this night in the kitchen,
Was a Holiday treat, a special edition.
With spices and cloves, but wait, that’s not all!
Oranges and cinnamon, in parts none too small.

And then there’s real honey, in ample supply,
To crank up the strength—yes, the ABV’s high.
‘Cause sugar ferments into booze in the brew,
The sugar in honey, that’s what’s warming you.

Not quite 10 percent, but just 18 proof,
This beer always made old St. Nick such a goof.
Stuffing a few in his sash, oh that clown
He grinned to himself, “For tonight on the town.”

Or maybe he’d save one and place it beneath
His Christmas tree next year, wrapped up in a wreath.
For since it’s so strong, as we’ve said already
This beer never spoils, and never gets smelly.

But first that old man took a glass from the shelf,
And poured from the bottle a treat for himself.
Admiring the color—mahogany red,
St. Nick topped it off with a cream off-white head.

He took a big whiff, it was one of his quirks
Banana and honey, nutmeg and the works.
And as for taste, it was much like the nose,
but bigger and bolder, and warm to his toes.

Wow, what a drink, boy it sure whet his whistle!
Up the chimney he shot, and was off like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, so loud all could hear,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good beer!”

Rating: 8/10