[His head cants up toward Castiel. His chest continues to glow, but he knows that he's unlikely to make the bottle too cold. The contents inside, though unlikely to freeze in the first place, definitely won't. He doesn't have the juice. Not yet. He just doesn't know how much juice he does have. Thus, taking some beer out for a chilly stroll. So to speak.]

Instantaneous, sure, but I'm not sure if it'll get the contents cold enough rapidly enough. I'm not sure if there's a limit. [But if there is one, Sam's exactly the kind of person to find it. To push himself toward it. Making things cold isn't exactly impressive. But making them ice cold, to the point of frost bite? That's where he can see this going in time.]

As for feeling ... [He inhales a large breath and exhales it slowly: the Sam Winchester Signature Sigh.] Mostly I feel cold. I'm not immune to the effects. At least not yet.