BAR PILOT Blog

Festival Report

Spring Beer and Wine Festival

Lots of brews and no lines = bliss

Posted by: John Chandler on Apr 06, 2010 at 11:00AM Speech Bubble 5 Comments

Photo: Dan Cronin

Who needs the sun? The Spring Beer and Wine Festival is a good excuse for indoor imbibing.

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No two ways about it, the annual Spring Beer and Wine Fest is a horse of a different color. It’s held indoors within the cavernous confines of the Convention Center, and instead of the bronzed brew believers milling about in sunglasses and cargo shorts that characterize summer’s Oregon Brewers Festival, there is an altogether more furtive air that pervades the spring gathering. After all, my skulking brethren and I had come to guzzle beer at noon on a Friday. I realize that this represents a stain on my permanent record. My dreams of higher office have been scrapped.

And while there are fewer brews at this event than at OBF, the lines are almost nonexistent, and that’s a major blessing for folks like myself who were born without a scintilla of patience. In fact, I’m now forbidden to stand in lines due to an unfortunate incident that I’m not at liberty discuss until a settlement can be reached with the injured parties. These are litigious times we live in.

“It’s like Costco in here—except with beer!” This observation came from my giddy photographer Dan Cronin, who was on hand to snap some Kodak moments for my blog. True that. It was free admission for the first two hours of the fest, and along with regional purveyors of beer, wine, and assorted spirits, there were abundant samples of everything from fried asparagus to Barbie-sized pies to industrial strength habañero beef jerky. A sample of the latter—dutifully cooked in an active volcano for six months before being slathered in napalm marinade—compelled me to chug three vases of daffodils from a nearby flower vendor. Too bad we didn’t get a picture.

Portland is a town sadly bereft of actual celebrities, but I did manage to chat with local notables who included Brian Butsenschoen head of the Oregon Brewers Guild; beer judge and homebrew pioneer Fred Eckhardt; Horse Brass owner Don Younger; and Portland’s ambassador of Happy Hour, Cindy Anderson, who was on hand promoting her latest guide to good drinking in PDX.

On the beer front, the power players—Widmer, Bridgeport, Full Sail, Laurelwood, Ninkasi, Lompoc, and Deschutes—were in the house with a healthy assortment of ales. Ninkasi’s Spring Reign, a clean and sturdy American pale ale with shades of citrus, caramel, and nuts, was especially memorable. Consider this a plea from me on my bended knee: may this super seasonal be promoted to Ninkasi’s regular rotation. Our parting would be sorrowful indeed.

The presence of young and hungry micro brewers served as a potent reminder that even our big beer barons came from humble roots. And if the ales proffered by the likes Astoria Brewing, Oakshire Brewery, Fort George Brewing, and Panty Dropper Ale (gotta love that name) are any indication, the spirit of competitive brewing is alive and kicking.

I’m a sucker for beers sporting offbeat ingredients and I was rewarded with a few innovative jolts. MateVeza Brewing from Ukiah, California, featured a Yerba Mate ale that set my pulse racing. Far and away the tastiest and most intriguing beer I tipped all afternoon was the Black Mamba Ale from Gilgamesh Brewing in Turner. Instead of hops, this crackling brew was made from black tea leaves. Sounds weird, but it was love at first sip, and I’m already jonesing for more. Maybe I’d better check the list of active ingredients and make sure there’s nothing in it from Columbia.

Without further ado, please enjoy our web exclusive slide show from the Spring Beer and Wine Fest. It was fun! Where were you?

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Tags: Beer, Beer Festivals, Slideshow

Happy Hour

Happy Hour of the Week

A fish feeding frenzy at Rose & Thistle

Posted by: Joseph Manuel on Apr 02, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 6 Comments

As my buddy and I meandered toward Rose & Thistle on Northeast Broadway, visions of fried fish swam dreamily through my head for the hundredth time that day. See, in order to prepare for my Happy Hour report I’d done my best impression of a religious martyr and fasted (for five entire hours!). Needless to say, by this time I was ravenous as a damn werewolf. Upon our arrival I made note of the exterior: dark green and done up like ye olde public house from merry ol’ England, with carved sign hanging in front. I was tempted to run home and snag my tri-corner hat in order to better mingle with the natives, but my mounting gastric distress wouldn’t hear of it. Good thing, ’cause technically The Rose & Thistle is a Scottish pub. Sadly, my kilt was still at the cleaners.

I’ve always wanted to enter a tavern like Arnold in Terminator 2—come in with nothing and leave with a motorcycle and shotgun. Alas, my inner Schwarzenegger stayed put, as my tentative entrance got zero style points. As if to reinforce customer civility I eyeballed rows of medieval weapons plastered on the wall, that seemed to announce “no funny business” to any potential rough-housers. My lupine appetite then delivered a resounding dope-slap to my gut, bringing me back to reality and reminding me that I was here on a fishing expedition. We were greeted and seated by an amiable server with a string of potable prompts, and, after inquiring about the happy hour specials, she informed us that only drinks, not food, were discounted. Still, a 20-ounce “royal pint” for $3.50 (well drinks a paltry $2.75) is nothing to scoff at.

Among the ten offerings on tap was Fearless Scottish Ale, a brewskie from Estacada that I was unfamiliar with. In an attempt to pass myself off as a fellow Pict, I ordered up. Best decision I made all day. After my introductory sip, I was inspired to bust out the phone and text three friends, my grandmother, and Charlie, the family pitbull (Molly, our Yorkie, prefers Italian table wines), with lavish praise for the bold bite of Fearless. Bitter aroma aside, its sturdy and buttery profile could make even a totalitarian teatotaler take notice. Tasty though it was, my hunger continued to howl for fish.

After staving off starvation by gnawing on the napkin holder, I finally spied our enchanting hostess approaching with steaming platters so I did my best to mop up the drool pool in front of me. A word about the waitress: she was welcoming, informative, and attentive (but not annoying, like that flair-rockin’ fool from Office Space), generously dropping knowledge on us about what makes R&T regulars return like swallows to Capistrano—and that would be the Scotch eggs, sausage rolls, and trivia night. Oh yeah, and the fish. The glorious fish.

My twin slabs of fried goodness ($10.50) were gi-normous, as if removed from some legendary sea beast rather than your ordinary, run-of-the-mill cod. The kraken perhaps? If so, it was some cracking-good kraken. Tender and bursting with the same sea-salty allure that has lured mariners to watery graves for centuries. It comes with tartar sauce, but I didn’t bother. The fries crisply done and held their own, but didn’t keep me from focusing on the fish.

Tasty cod snarfed, my final drop of Fearless a sweet memory, and the free verse on the men’s room wall dutifully critiqued and edited, my friend and I were ready to exit and in doing so I almost forgot to pay for my Hemingway-worthy fish. I attributed my amnesia to the R&T’s cordial ambience. It’s a neighborhood pub but the clientele won’t look at you funny if they’ve never seen you before. Especially if you’re stuffing your face with the fish.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Beer, Northeast

Road Trip

Fond-a Wakonda

Coastal micro brew is worth the gas and traffic

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 31, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 6 Comments

Photo: John Chandler

The magnificent pint of Wakonda Beachcomber Cream Ale that kick-started my quest.

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“Nooooo!”

This was my none-too-clever cry of dismay as the half-gallon jar of beer tumbled over in the back seat of the rental car and began spraying in all directions like an enraged sprinkler. I could only watch in horror as my beloved Wakonda Beachcomber Cream Ale lost its precious fizz in front of my teary eyes.

“Whyyyyy?!”

My sincerest Nancy Kerrigan impression erupted as I attempted to reseal the foamy jar and wrap the whole mess in my sweatshirt. I cradled the leaky vessel as if it were a colicky infant, my spirits plunging down the elevator shaft to the next stage of grieving—as per the Elizabeth Kübler-Ross model.

I like to think of myself as a pretty stoic guy (many others do not). But no sooner had I left the Wakonda Brewing tasting room in scenic Florence, Oregon, bearing my growler of beer, than a sharp turn in the road caused my world to implode as I recalled the words of Wakonda brew-mistress Juanita Kirkham: “Once you open it, you’re going to have to drink it all down.”

Instead, I tightened the lid with every last ounce of vein-popping vigor I could summon and sent off a quick prayer to Silenus, the Greek god of beer, that my special little brew would retain the lion’s share of its carbonated zest.

Wakonda Brewing is barely a blip on Oregon’s beer radar. Producing about 350 barrels annually since 2004, it’s about as mom-and-pop as it gets. Co-owner Kirkham, a friendly and garrulous woman of modest ambitions, is usually parked behind the bar of the wee tasting room, located near the Florence airport in a thoroughly unremarkable office park. Yet this anonymity lies in marked contrast to the worship-worthy beers served at the tasting room, which is open Wednesday-Saturday from 5 PM till 10-ish. It’s worth the Google search, believe you me.

The big kahuna of the bunch is the Beachcomber Cream Ale, a velvety butt-kicker that brings perhaps the finest balance of malt, spice, and fruit accents (orange and lemon principally) I’ve tasted in quite some time—hence my Homeric lamentations over the blown growler. Beachcomber saturates the palate in languorous fashion and dries off after a respectable duration. It’s an awesome bear.

The Timber Beast IPA fairly crackles in the mouth with its judicious blend of hops, though Kirkham tells me that this particular batch “is more like an accidental amber ale.” Accidents happen, but rarely are the results so satisfying.

The two people at the bar looked at me as if I’d just beamed down from an intergalactic roller disco after announcing that, no, I’d never had the Sneaker Wave Pilsner. “It’ll sneak up on you alright,” one of them laughed. I was pressed for time so I was only able to entertain a small sample, but it lit up my palate like a 100-watt bulb. Slightly bitter, full-bodied, and lightly spiced, the Sneaker Wave has potentially addictive properties and I’m afraid that an intervention might be in order if I were exposed to its bountiful charms on a regular basis.

I’m not normally a fan of stouts, but Wakonda’s Black Elk is a very drinkable and earthy brew with deep streaks of chocolate and toffee.

Sadly, I had to bid farewell to Kirkham and her little operation. She tells me that the tiny tasting room was only opened to offset their grain storage expenses, but that word of mouth about the beer has resulted in doubling Wakonda’s output.

Now if we can just get us a pipeline to Portland. There is a part of me, however, that revels in Wakonda’s scarcity. Kirkham and her crew make beer that they like to drink and to hell with market research and the latest fleeting trend. And that’s why it’s so damn yummy.

Last night I polished off the entire growler of cream ale. It gently lightened my spirits and cloaked me in a cozy sense of wellbeing that was snug as Grandma’s quilt.

And this morning? Not even the whisper of a hangover. Thank you Silenus. And thank you Wakonda. As a pre-gubernatorial Schwarzenegger once quipped, “I’ll be back.”

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Tags: Beer, Out of Town

Suds Survey II

Tapping the Source

What are you drinking? It’s research, baby

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 25, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 8 Comments

It was recently pointed out to me by an authority figure that we can better serve our readership if we periodically took their pulse about what they’re eating, drinking, reading, watching, listening to, driving, and smoking. (OK, skip the last one.) Readers with elephantine memories may recall that many moons ago I wrote a less-than-scientific feature for this very magazine about the tastiest summer beers being concocted by our local beer barons.

What we’re gunning for today is an update on the state of craft beer—specifically beer that’s brewed locally or from somewheres in Oregon. We’re all up to speed on Widmer Hefeweizen, Bridgeport IPA, Dead Guy, Mirror Pond, Hammerhead, and all the rest of the usual suspects. What I want to know about (nay, demand to know about) are the little fish. The up-and-comers from artisan breweries in the area that have taken your taste buds hostage. The local brews that haunt your dreams and cause incidents of sleepwalking to the fridge. The IPA’s you drink in the shower. The ESB’s you pound after a hearty meal. The golden ales you quaff while in front of the TV, effectively shutting out spouse, offspring, and other reminders of the many tragic mistakes you’ve made in this unimaginable hell you call a life.

In my case, I’ve been steering away from the mega-hoppy IPA’s to more malty brews that deliver intriguing secondary and tertiary flavors. I’ve had a fairly serious romance with Ninkasi’s Believer Double Red, a hearty ale clustered with nutty caramel notes. I also confess to a dalliance with Hopworks Lager, a plucky refresher, suitable for choo-choo chugging or dainty dabbling, that’s made steady headway into the Portland pub pack.

How about you drinking buddies? Give me the low down on the locals: the good, the great, the fabulous—and the overrated. Let’s get cracking!

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Tags: Beer

Sports News

Of Beer and Brackets

Four spots for sipping suds during the NCAA tournament

Posted by: Joseph Manuel on Mar 22, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 0 Comments

Hey, how’s that March Madness treating you? You don’t have to fib—we know you picked Kansas all the way, and, after last weekend’s tumultuous two rounds, office paper shredders have been working double overtime making confetti for all the hapless hopefuls who picked the No. 1 seeded Jayhawks. If you were one of the 50 percent whose picks went down quick like the Titanic, you definitely need somewhere to cheer up, buttercup. Might we suggest collegiate sports bar the Cheerful Tortoise? The word on the block is that they’ll have giveaways during televised games, and, for the final, the winner gets a hammock—the perfect consolation prize for lounging and lamenting about Northern Iowa’s remarkable David-ko’s-Goliath win over Kansas.

For the other half of you that picked Kentucky (come on, you either picked Kansas or Kentucky) at least you still have breathing room, as the Wildcats could potentially square off against our regional rivals the Washington Huskies. Since we’re narrow-minded and all, we’ll assume that John Wall and his cousin will escape the East and be Final Four-bound. Fittingly, Champion’s Sports Bar would be ideal to watch the expected coronation of the ’Cats, since they have 20 TVs and feature happy hour all day during the games. OK, we lied—we’re only suggesting this place because of the 20 views you’ll have of Kentucky dominating Washington—that is, if the Dogs can succeed in bouncing West Virginia out of the tournament.

The fun of the Syracuse quadrant (the West, supposedly) resulted in the least amount of upsets—the surviving quartet in the Sweet 16 include a five, six, and two seed to go along with No. 1 Syracuse. Although this region had some pretty close contests, the blandness of no double-digit seeds can be cured by heading to Macadams, since there’s a possibility of winning a 32-inch flat screen in their no entry-fee bracket contest.

Finally, the South region has the second-most hated team left in St. Mary’s (behind Northern Iowa, of course), since their ousting of two-seeded Villanova twisted the knife of those that had ‘Nova actually making it past the second round. If you picked Duke for this side, grab an order of Macho Nachos and a Lagunitas IPA at Claudia’s, the perfect sports pub to match Coach K’s precision offense. Plus, they’ll also have random raffles during the finals, which you can enter while quaffing a beer every time Duke’s golden boy Kyle Singler (from South Medford!) busts a bucket.

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Tags: Beer, Sports

Beer Bulletin

Glass Dismissed

Ale appreciation classes on tap

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 12, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 5 Comments

Have you browsed the beer aisle at Fred Meyer lately? Sheesh! It’s a veritable Library of Congress of confounding labels, from teeny-weeny domestic microbreweries to exotic imports in towering bottles with $10 price tags. If you’re feeling a bit flustered by all the unfamiliar faces, relax and rejoice ’cause help is on the way.

A recently organized organization called Oregon Beer Odyssey is hosting a series of beer appreciation classes at various drinking venues across the city. Co-founder Ben Edmunds, a brewer who’s worked in Belgium and Germany, explains that attendees will acquire knowledge about beer styles as well as specific flavor descriptions which should magically transform them from six-pack slobs into erudite icons of sudsy sophistication. The classes start March 20 and most are individual sessions with titles such as “Tasting and Talking About Beer” and “Great Beers of the Northwest.” Damn, where were these guys when I was in college? I could have gotten a master’s degree in two years. “Yeah, we aren’t offering degrees in beer styles,” Edmunds laughs. “Although they do in Germany.”

They’re way ahead of us over there.

Oregon Beer Odyssey’s headquarters is in the same building as Beermongers bottle shop at 11th Avenue and SE Division St. Edmunds is visualizing the area as a hoppy hotspot, with the debut of a beer bar called Apex in another month or two. “They’re going to have a pretty aggressive opening,” Edmunds says. “They’ll open with 50 taps.”

So this stretch of inner Southeast will soon sport a bottle shop, a beer-centric bar, and a place to get some lager learning. I plan on enrolling and maintaining a sparkling GPA (Great Passion for Ale). Education never tasted so good.

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Tags: Beer

Cheap Drinks

Colt Classic

What to buy with $3

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 02, 2010 at 01:00PM Speech Bubble 13 Comments

Last night. (Below) This morning.

I feel your pain. Lest you think the Bar Pilot is some hoity-toity, well-to-do toffee-nosed twit with more dollars than sense, I would just like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that our current state of economic suck-it-tude also affects those of us whose business it is to booze.

Contrary to popular opinion, my office is not stacked floor-to-ceiling with complimentary bottles of Napoleon brandy. Nor do I spend my days sitting in a leather easy chair sipping single malt scotch with my feet propped up on a nearby intern. Sadly, my discretionary budget for drinking and gadding about town is roughly equal to that of Greenland’s highest-paid comedian.

Take yesterday for example, For myriad reasons (my losses at the Baccarat table have been staggering) I was reduced to my last $3 in spending money. Ordinarily I would simply whip out my Mastercard, but I recently discovered that my identity has been pilfered by a juvenile delinquent from Sandusky, Ohio who maxed out my credit on internet porn.

To further complicate matters, there was a Trail Blazer game on TV, and I will not watch a televised sporting event without a beer in hand. I can’t. I won’t.

So I swallowed my pride, went to the corner quickie mart where I am revered as a connoisseur of name-brand swill, and bought a 40-ounce bottle of Colt 45 malt liquor. Mr. Lee rang me up and eyeballed me with newfound contempt, like I was a priest buying a copy of Hustler. Big deal, right? I mean, this is what we drank all the time before the advent of employment. And for $2.74 it didn’t break the bank.

Still, I can’t remember the last time I was reduced to such a pitiable financial state. In order to fool my snobby sensibilities I poured my purchase into a glass normally reserved for a premium ale.

How did it go? Not too bad. I’ve had much, much worse beer in my life. Colt 45 is a relatively smooth and full-bodied brew, and what it lacks in nuance, it more than makes up for with a buzz factor that’s off the charts. In terms of bang for your buck, Colt 45 is the motherlode.

On the downside I had neglected to eat dinner so I soon found myself lost at sea. It’s been my experience that when one tipples in excess with a top-shelf spirit even the resulting intoxication is usually more of a charmingly comic episode. That extra change you’ve plunked down for the good stuff means you’re typically on solid ground even whilst inebriated. Not so with cheap malt liquor. It was a reckless sort of a drunk, like one attained by an underage drinker with hooch stolen from Mom and Dad’s liquor cabinet. I was unsteady and not terribly witty and my dogs stared up at me with alarm in their little brown eyes. I was an unfrozen caveman—a graceless savage and soon I was snoring away on the couch with x’s for eyes.

This morning I awoke with a sour taste in my mouth but thankfully no hangover. Which leads me to ask: What happened to me? I used to drink 40s all the time. I was a happy prole. A lovable lout. Have I become an effete member of the upper crust? A shameless elitist with no soul?

What do you say drinking buddies? Is the consumption or alcohol a matter of economics? Is it worthwhile to drink cheap or are you better off abstaining until you have the coin for something decent? After the age of 40 are you required to maintain your dignity 24-7? As for me, I’m not in a hurry to quaff another Colt, but it was not without its brutish charms.

After all, it’s good enough for Lando Calrissian.

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Tags: Beer, Cheap

Cheap Date

Hungry Tiger Too

A festive evening sans bankruptcy

Posted by: Emma Hall on Feb 22, 2010 at 03:00PM Speech Bubble 5 Comments

Yes, I forgot to take a photo before I chowed down on the deliciousness that is vegan corndogs. Ah, well.

OK, it’s official, the recession sucks. Even so, there is a part of your life that should never be adversely affected by the economy: Your game—as in dating game.

Yes, our pocketbooks could do with a bit of fattening, but that’s no reason to abstain from high-rolling on occasion. Portland is loaded with places to wine and dine your sweetie without resorting to Taco Bell. In fact, I was recently able to fill up on food and even wrangle a modest buzz—with my date—for 10 measly dollars.

Wednesday nights at the Hungry Tiger Too (207 SE 12th Ave) are a tightwad’s ticket to financial security. Starting at 7, you can scarf as many vegan corndogs as you want (my max is four) and pints of PBR (my max is way more than four) for only $1 each!

Nope, I’m not a vegan (favorite food = cheeseburgers, medium rare), but the house-made vegan corndogs at Hungry Tiger are alarmingly tasty, with a perfectly crisp cornmeal shell lovingly wrapped around an I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-pig-parts wiener. Deeee-lish, and you can gracefully avoid the horror of finding out that your current romantic interest gets his/her svelte figure from a no meat/eggs/dairy diet, and now has nothing to order on the menu—and will spend the remainder of the evening smoldering with resentment.

The simple beauty of a $1 pint of PBR.

Wednesday nights at HT2 can get crowded so I recommend getting there no later than 8 or 9 in order to secure a table. Then sit back and enjoy the floorshow as the bar fills up with bearded dudes in American Apparel hoodies accompanied by stylish waifs rocking their best ragamuffin rags. Sure, you’re already on a date, but statistics show it probably won’t amount to anything. Might as well keep your eyes peeled for a future prospect.

There are also (free) board games on the premises like Cranium and Trivial Pursuit to further aid you in getting to know your companion. Do you really want to go home with a moron, a sore loser, or worse, a cheater?

My only gripe about Hungry Tiger Too’s hospitality? The music on the night I was there was cornier than the cuisine. In other words, the kind of songs one can appreciate at karaoke, but not blasting over the speakers while trying to interrogate your future mate. Can we please bury our ironic fascination with Journey, Def Leppard, and Bryan Adams once and for all? Please?

Of course, this friendly joint has other rotating specials besides cheap-date night. If you can’t make it out on a Wednesday, the next best choice is Sunday, when staving off a hangover from the previous night’s revelry is the order of the day. I suggest something from the fortifying “Mama’s Cure Alls” section of the menu: a bloody Mary for $5, the Wake Up Little Suzy (Irish coffee) for $6, or the “Sunday Mornin’” for $6.50. It’s a restorative take on the mimosa that includes a packet of E-mergenC mixed in with the champagne and OJ. Trust me, it’s good for what ails you.

Then again, if you’re feeling ambitious and need to get a head start on tomorrow’s hangover, you can opt for one of Hungry Tiger’s $10 Sippers: a huge, aquarium-size drink that (at least in theory) you really ought to share with a friend or three. And if you don’t happen to have a breakfast buddy, just gaze imploringly around the room. Surely someone will offer to help you slay your monstrous cocktail. Like I said, it’s a friendly place.

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Tags: Beer, Cheap, Cheap Date

Beer Bulletin

I’d Tap That

Zwickelmania is for brew believers

Posted by: John Chandler on Feb 10, 2010 at 09:00AM Speech Bubble 6 Comments

It’s a recurring dream: I’m being escorted through a brewery. Suddenly, I scream “May Day! May Day! I’m going down!” I then scale a nearby ladder and execute a perfect one-and-half into a beckoning vat of crisp, pure, virgin beer. And I never surface. News of my demise spreads quickly and Salma Hayek enters a convent. Sigh. Such a lovely vision.

Imagine my giddy excitement at the thought of my firkin fantasy becoming a reality. OK, there will be no diving and I suppose Ms. Hayek is utterly indifferent, but nonetheless, this Saturday between 11-4, ale aficionados can get a gander inside some of the state’s top craft breweries at the Zwickelmania Statewide Brewery Tour, sponsored by the Oregon Brewer’s Guild. Meeting the brew barons and the sampling of suds are definitely on the itinerary.

Here in Portland you can jump on a chartered bus that will roll to such malty meccas as Amnesia Brewing, Hopworks Urban Brewery, Lompoc Brewing, Rogue Distillery and Public House, Widmer Brothers Brewing, Laurelwood Public House, BridgePort Brewing, and many more.

Brewer’s Guild executive director Brian Butenschoen notes that nearly 10,000 folks went on the tour last year, so it pays to research your destinations. And it’s all free, baby.

Fun fact: Zwickel is the name of the sample valve found on the outside of the fermentation or conditioning tank used by brewers to track and taste the beer throughout the brewing process. And Salma, if you’re reading this, I’ll be the taller, Hugh Jackman lookalike sitting in the back of the bus.

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Tags: Beer, Beer Festivals, Events, Craft Beers

Drinking Locally

Sprint to Spints

New alehouse has the goods

Posted by: John Chandler on Jan 20, 2010 at 11:00AM Speech Bubble 8 Comments

I’m up to my elbows in whiskey at the moment drinking buddies, but I wanted to drop you a quick note about Spints Alehouse, a new bar and eatery at 401 NE 28th Avenue, located in a former leather shop (not to be confused with a leather bar). It’s roomy with a hospitable air, done up in dark-wood pub chic, with a lively bar side, and a more intimate dining space. It’s the latest venture from chef Alyssa Gregg and manager Ted Charak, both formerly of the Teardrop Lounge.

Went there last week with a few amigos and was impressed with the following:

Speedy and friendly service; superb beer selection, strong on Belgian-style brews like Allagash White Ale, my current fave; a sweet assortment of house-made spirits, like a really eye-opening root beer schnapps that tastes just like Hires’ root beer barrel candies; adventurous gastro-pub fare, including a lovely pretzel topped with bacon and a fried egg (pictured).

The last item has the potential to be a culinary cult classic, but it was a bit too salty on first taste. Still, the place has only been open for a few weeks, so I trust this issue will be addressed as soon as the kitchen staff gets a bit more—SEASONING! Damn, I’ve been cracking myself up all week.

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Tags: Beer, Bar Openings

Beer Bulletin

Blonde Rebranding

Lompoc ale needs new name

Posted by: John Chandler on Jan 11, 2010 at 02:00PM Speech Bubble 12 Comments

One of my favorite activities—and indeed one of my very few god-given talents—is coming up with quick, catchy names for all sorts of things, and if I can squeeze in a pun, so much the better. Naturally I was drawn to the plight of local beer barons Lompoc Brewing, who must devise a new handle for their blonde ale, which was formerly known as Blonde Bombshell. Apparently this moniker is being used elsewhere, a not infrequent occurrence in the rapidly expanding and ultra-competitive craft beer game.

For this week only, Lompoc is seeking public input on the matter. If you have a whopper of a name for its blonde ale, send your ideas to lompocbrewing@newoldlompoc.com by this Friday. The winning entrant gets a Lompoc sweatshirt and a $10 Lompoc gift certificate. The beer itself will be tapped at the New Old Lompoc Pub on Tuesday, January 19, between 4-9.

Some names that have already been suggested: Alpha Blonde, Atomic Blonde, Blonde Ambition, Bottle Blonde, Buxom Blonde, and Suicide Blonde. Others? Feel free to try ’em out here first, before risking utter humiliation in the competition itself.

You can certainly do better than my lame idea: Kegwood & Blondie. Pee-yew!

Put your nimble minds to work and pop open a winner!

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Tags: Beer, Craft Beers

Christmas list

Potable Presents

Gifts for the guzzler

Posted by: John Chandler on Dec 17, 2009 at 10:00AM Speech Bubble 6 Comments

I’m working on a comprehensive post about Christmas gift ideas for the beer and cocktail lover (like me!) on your list, but here’s a few to tide you over in the meantime.

Beer of the Month Club: This one’s a little spendy but there are different price plans available. Why not keep that special someone buzzed year-round?

Brandy Flask Smuggler Cane: Walking the dog just got a lot more rewarding. If Fido’s being extra good, give him a nip as well. Now you can attend art openings, lectures, and experimental film festivals with confidence, knowing sweet relief is at hand.

iBartender: For 99¢ you can create the illusion of being a knowledgeable mixologist, ready to whip up a Headless Horseman or a Brandy Alexander at the push of a button or two.

Fear not! There are more awesome gift options on the way. And by all means, feel free to send in your own ideas. What are you getting for the lush in your life?

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Tags: Beer, Cocktails, Holiday Events, Gift Giving, Gifts

BAR PILOT

Spring Beer and Wine Festival

Happy Hour of the Week

Fond-a Wakonda

Tapping the Source

Of Beer and Brackets

Glass Dismissed

Colt Classic

Hungry Tiger Too

I’d Tap That

Sprint to Spints

Blonde Rebranding

Potable Presents

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