The Wizard of Oz just might be my favorite story. (And I really like stories.) Every Christmas, for as long as I can remember, my dad gifts me a different Wizard of Oz ornament, I have a framed copy of the movie poster at right, my brother and I were obsessed with The Wiz as kids, and I’ve read Wicked and seen the musical. (If you haven’t seen The Wiz, do so ASAP: Diana Ross is Dorothy, a young Michael Jackson is the Scarecrow, Nipsy Russell is the Tin Man, it’s incredible.) So when I saw a beer whose name nods to The Wizard of Oz, 7 Locks’ Surrender Dorothy, I had to give it a try.

7 Locks is a brewery in Maryland, just outside my city, but this was the first time I’d heard of them. Surrender Dorothy is easy to drink, with the rye offering a little spice to an otherwise classic IPA, balanced between citrus and resinous hop aromas (which is a nice respite from the too-many super juicy Hazy or New England IPAs out there right now).

The can has this to say about the connection between a rye IPA and The Wizard of Oz:

As the monotony of the Beltway winds west, toward the land of a witch not so nice, weary travelers round a bend. Suddenly, spires sprout in the distance, and a message from the witch herself lurches into view, beckoning us to surrender our ruby-hued comrade… now clutched in our hands after the long road home became a little more golden.

I’m assuming that the “ruby-hued comrade” refers to redness that rye might impart to an IPA? But I’m not sure, since the beer is just barely copper. But close enough: if it gets us to The Wizard of Oz allusion, I’ll take it.

No matter, since as you can see if you look very carefully at the cover of the book in the above image, Dorothy’s shoes aren’t really red/ruby, either. (Look just under the Tin Man’s foot and you can see her own little silver toe peeking out.)

Nope, in the book, in fact, Dorothy’s slippers are silver, not ruby. The Wizard of Oz is an allegory for late-19th-century Populism. The lion represents William Jennings Bryan (get it, Bryan=lion?); the Scarecrow, American farmers (like Dorothy’s Uncle Henry); the Tin man, American factory workers; and the yellow brick road and Dorothy’s silver slippers, the debate between the gold and silver standard.

Even though Dorothy’s silver slippers are an important piece of the allegory, MGM thought that red would film more dazzlingly. After all, while The Wizard of Oz was not the first movie to be shot in Technicolor, it was by far the biggest Technicolor production to date when it debuted in 1939, and the shift to color as Dorothy enters Oz is a hallmark of cinematic history.

So ruby the silver slippers became. Which makes Surrender Dorothy and The Wizard of Oz more of a beer-movie pairing than a beer-book pairing, considering the rubiness of the beer and of Dorothy’s slippers, but close enough. Like I said, I’ll take any beer that alludes to my favorite story, whatever form that story may take.

P.S.: After writing this entry last weekend, I popped up to 7 Locks to visit in person and drink a Surrender Dorothy on draft (pics below). The beertenders there are super nice, they currently have outdoor seating that is perfectly socially distant, and Surrender Dorothy tastes even better on draft than it does in a can: A bit more hop bitterness to complement the rye’s spice.