So I have developed quite a little routine in my life. It consists of going out and eating and drinking then participating in athletic activities in order to counterbalance the effects of said eating and drinking. Yeah, it's a tough life I lead. Or appear to lead. Case in point (boom), Thursdays.
Now one thing you should know about DC is that everyone plays soccer. It probably has to do with the fact that DC is such an internationally cognizant city that we all try to solidify our place in the bigger picture that is the world by playing soccer. Or it's that no one really knows anyone when they get here because it's so transient that one way to meet people is through a social activity and since everyone in DC is all fit and such (Only like Boulder, CO is more active. Look it up.) they combine being active and social into one thing and soccer (and softball and kick ball) are easy to put together. Anyway, what I was trying to get at is that on Thursdays I play soccer and then we go out and drink.
Now I can't do this every night, so I have been sacrificing Fridays, including that last one. Sorry Friday. Please don't hold it against me. It's work's fault, really. I have all this momentum going during the week that when it is all said and done (and it is definitely done for me when I leave. sorry for you if it's not.) all I really want to do is sleep. Or get law school applications done, which, coincidentally, is what happened last Friday. Not sure what I am going to do when those are done. Probably go out on Fridays, too. Or get a second job to pay for my socializing. Having friends is expensive.
Do you remember when I went to the beirgarten in DC called the Biergarten Haus on Memorial Day Weekend 2011? If not, there are links to all the different posts I have had over the course of this bloggy on the right. I am not going to do that, though, because I went back Saturday and I don't want to be held responsible for knowing what I wrote the last time in case I repeat what I said then.
Well, me and a couple friends had the idea to get to the Biergarten Haus somewhat early on Saturday to beat the crowd, which, in hindsight, is my excuse for not being a cool person Friday and staying in. So at like 1230 we head on over. Then we drink liters (LITERS) of october fest beer while chewing the fat and watching college football. Please keep that chewing the fat phrase in mind. It will make another appearance shortly. But, if you don't, that is OK, I will remind you.
Then, after the liters of beer drinking, the eating of a delectable burger, the spending of way too much money on the things I just mentioned, and the passing of several hours, I go home because Tennessee is on TV and sitting around drinking all day is way more exhausting that one would think. And I had to get up early on Sunday to counter all the drinking with a soccer game at 10am and had I stayed out that would not be possible for me.
Early moral of the story: Sundays are for sleeping in. Fact. Not adhering to this is just unwise. Things are just too quiet about the city at that hour for this not to be true.
But you know what? The earlier you wake up, the earlier you are able to get out and do things when the time is right.
So I decided to utilize my early readiness to go out and be a productive person, even more than I already had been by participating in a recreational soccer game that ended in a tie. So, what do I do? I decide that I should probably finish up this law school stuff and go somewhere in the city I have never been before. The blogworthy location of the week is Big Bear Cafe in a neighborhood that I thought was Bloomingdale but apparently is actually one called Eckington, which I have never heard of before.
So, even though I am not a hipster, or least I, who tries to be as unstereotypical as possible, do not consider myself to be one, I am considered the hipster of my house of seven people. But those standards are low. In any case, a friend of a roommate that used to come by used to be like, "hey have you ever heard of Big Bear Cafe? you should come down, i think you would really like it." I did not know why this was being said to me because it is a coffee shop and if I am going to go to a coffee shop I am going to go to one much closer to my house. Then I found out it is like hipster central in DC and assumed this girl also saw me as a hipster and thought I would enjoy being around other hipsters. Wrong and wrong. But I was intrigued. So I am probably a little bit of a hipster but moreso I am more of a person intrigued by places I have not been.
So I get down there and while at first I was just nervous about not fitting in at this coffee shop like I am at every other one I go into because I am not familiar their local customs or the number of regulars, I was also nervous about not being hipster enough. But that did not deter me nor cause me to doll myself up in my best hipster gear available (read: party pants).
And then I found a regular.
Do you remember when I asked that you remember the "chew the fat" phrase? Well, after some chewing of the small fat with this regular, we got to the bigger pieces until eventually I asked him if he knew of the etymology (insight into Jeff's likes and interests interlude: I love etymology, or the study of the origin of words) of the phrase "chewing the fat."
And this is what he said because it didn't take too much time for me to figure out that he was one of those quite wise middle aged guys that even I enjoy speaking to:
"Well I think it was the Depression when it first came about. Obviously, there was a lot of unemployment, like twice as much as there is now, if you can believe that [I can't]. And these hobos, who previously were hardworking men because back then there wasn't really any other type of work, would make their way around town and the country by foot and hitchhiking and train hopping. For many people during this era, especially the poor, good food was hard to come by, so every part of the animal possible was eaten. Most everyone would eat any part, except the tendons and other difficult to digest parts like that. These parts became known as the fat, even though they are not quite. Anyway, these vagabonds would congregate out behind restaurants and places where they knew people would be discarding scraps of food. They actually developed a reputation for this activity, so much so that once the scraps were handed out, which very often included a lot of the tendons and animal parts like that they would sit around talking while trying to chew them, the fat. Next thing you know, all sitting around and conversing is known as "chewing the fat." "
Learning. That is how you know your day is well spent. I really should talk to people more often.
But yeah, I didn't get any of that law school stuff. Another side effect of being a social human being: not being as productive.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
DC Area Brewery Tour 2011
Hey reader, you know how I have been using the phrase "point and case," or something like that? Well, after coming across the correct usage of this combination of words like twice over the last couple weeks, which is "case in point," I feel like an idiot. And I blame you. Why didn't you tell me that I have been making this mistake? I don't know what would make me feel less intelligent/more embarrassed, realizing the mistake on my own or someone else pointing it out to me, but a little heads up would have been nice. But I have learned from my mistake and I am all the better for it. Maybe it was better this way.
So DC is an expensive city. It probably has something to do with the fact that it is the richest metropolitan area in the country. There are plenty of free things to do, but they are not nearly as fun as the things that cost money. Or at least this is what I tell myself as I watch my paycheck diminish swiftly upon its direct deposit into my bank account.
So let's talk about last weekend. Well, I had work on Friday but, for all intents and purposes (is this how the phrase goes?), it started on Thursday. Do you remember how I am on a social soccer league team? Well, our game was canceled Thursday so we did just the social stuff. We went to Rocket Bar in Chinatown and, somehow, in like 3 hours I spent like $50. Not sure how that is even possible.
So Friday I decided to take it easy. Since just sitting in my house watching Friends is not blogworthy, or acceptable for a 26 year-old "man," (does anyone know if in situations like this the comma goes inside or outside the "?) I decided to go see a movie at E St. Well, just like the last independent film that I saw, I do not think I know the type of person that would enjoy this film. It was called The Mill and the Cross. Basically it's about this Polish guy's interpretation of the medieval painting The Way to Calvary in which he follows everyone in the painting around just living life with some commentary by the painter himself.
Which reminds me, did I ever tell you I am half Polish. Probably not. Not sure why I am now either except for the fact that I remember thinking about writing this very sentence while watching the movie but now forgetting where I was going to go with it.
Then I decided to walk home. I would say it is about 1.5 miles, which isn't far, but there's a lot going on in that distance. But here's why I did it: there are times when I am just walking on down the street and I will think to myself how I wish I had my camera to take a picture of something random that I come across. So, since going to see a movie by oneself is not the most blogworthy occurrence, I brought my camera with me and hoped that by walking home I would come across random things to photograph and put on this, or, better yet, something wild and random would occur that I could write about.
Yeah, none of those really happened. Per usual, I just took a bunch of pictures of neat buildings along the way. But here are some of the things I did put enough thought into taking a picture of:
Anyway. There is a very small area of DC in which I spend most of my free time. Most of it centers around Columbia Heights and just about all of it falls in NW. On Saturday, given the momentum I had from last weekend, I convinced my roommate to go take a brewery tour of one of DC's breweries, DC Brau. Well, while driving through NE to the brewery my NW-centric life was vindicated as there was nothing really there other than residences, which made me feel better about myself. And yeah, I know this isn't entirely true as there is H St. in NE, etc. But for the most part I haven't found a reason to spend time having fun outside of NW.
So we're at DC Brau sitting there drinking our four free samples of their beer and we realize that we are in the middle of an enjoyable situation. So we think about the potential of going to other breweries in the area. I know there are a couple more in the city proper, but they don't have tasting rooms. I do know, however, that Port City in Alexandria has one. We see that it is open until 5pm. It is 330pm. Jackpot.
Port City has the best tasting room of the DC area microbreweries. For $5 you get five tastings of their four beers and you get to keep the little glass! But DC Brau and Port City are for two very different crowds. At DC Brau, it was all young people from the city, naturally, while at Port City it was more of an older, wealthier white people crowd. So it only makes sense that DC Brau's beers are bolder and unique, while Port City's are quite subdued and by-the-book in taste. I would take one of DC Brau's over any one of Port City's, but when taken as a whole I think I would prefer Port City's.
Anyway. At this point we didn't want this budding brewery tour to end. I knew that there was a place called Mad Fox in the area. Luckily, a smartphone was in our midst, so we look that shit up and head on over there. On the way, we are stopped at a light and a Party City pops up right next to us. Halloween is right around a couple corners and we are not the costume types, so, yes, we will stop there. I spend $4 and have my costume.
Then we are walking back to the car when my roommate says something like "you will be excited at an above normal level if you look to your right." "Well, what do we have here," I exclaim. A Moe's delivery van. Yes, that Moe's. My BFF. The jesus was like, "Hey, Jeff, you know you have a pretty nice Saturday going for you? Well, it's about to get all kinds of awesomer." Needless to say, we stopped at the Moe's right up the road and enjoyed every ounce of it.
Driving onward, we come across a Dogfish Head Alehouse on our right. My roommate and I look at each other. He asks, "Are we doing this?" Yes, yes we are. And we did. Unlike most breweries, you couldn't choose your samples. For $9 they give you a standard five with their seasonal. Not our favorites.
And we still had Mad Fox to get to. At this point the smartphone was dead but luckily we had looked it up earlier. This one is in downtown Fairfax, which is a fancy pants locale, and the brewpub was the nicest brewery that I have ever been to in terms of fanciness of the people and decor. And the beer was all right. We are not yet satisfied enough to call it a day yet so we ask the bartender if there are any other brewpubs nearby. He says Sweetwater Tavern and gives us directions since we are smartphoneless.
Predictably, we get lost. How did people do it before smartphones? Probably the same way we did it: stop at your local gas station and hope someone there knows what you're talking about. I ask the attendant lady if she knows where it is but she does not. What we think is lucky for us, this random guy directs us there. Except he directs us in the opposite direction. And we end up in Clarendon. Which is not where we want to be. Ever. Now this is not that far from home, but you're crazy if you think we're giving up. We have until 1am to get there and we eventually do after calling them and asking how we arrive at their establishment.
I've actually been to Sweetwater before (my growler is from there--which I had every intention of bringing with me to DC Brau but DC does not consider pop-top growlers to be closed containers. Classic case of not understanding what 'closed' means.) but they actually have all different kinds of beer on tap this time. But they are similarly as bland as the others because I am a beer snob and have these types of opinions. But it was worth it all the same.
Now I know what you're thinking, "I can't believe you drank all that and drove around!!" OK, take it easy. We only had little 4oz samples all day. Over the course of 10 hours we had the equivalent of 7 beers, which, high horse rider, is below the legal limit.
Also what you're thinking: "How does one cap off a wonderful day like that?" Chinese food from Johnnys on 14th. The go-to for cheap food in Columbia Heights. No delivery, though, so if you live within walking distance consider yourself very lucky.
Then I went to Lou's and acted all American and watched professional football on Sunday, which sounds in character, but is actually out as the only reason I pay any attention to professional football is for fantasy football, which with Moe's is one of the best things to ever happen to me.
And there went my pay check.
So DC is an expensive city. It probably has something to do with the fact that it is the richest metropolitan area in the country. There are plenty of free things to do, but they are not nearly as fun as the things that cost money. Or at least this is what I tell myself as I watch my paycheck diminish swiftly upon its direct deposit into my bank account.
So let's talk about last weekend. Well, I had work on Friday but, for all intents and purposes (is this how the phrase goes?), it started on Thursday. Do you remember how I am on a social soccer league team? Well, our game was canceled Thursday so we did just the social stuff. We went to Rocket Bar in Chinatown and, somehow, in like 3 hours I spent like $50. Not sure how that is even possible.
So Friday I decided to take it easy. Since just sitting in my house watching Friends is not blogworthy, or acceptable for a 26 year-old "man," (does anyone know if in situations like this the comma goes inside or outside the "?) I decided to go see a movie at E St. Well, just like the last independent film that I saw, I do not think I know the type of person that would enjoy this film. It was called The Mill and the Cross. Basically it's about this Polish guy's interpretation of the medieval painting The Way to Calvary in which he follows everyone in the painting around just living life with some commentary by the painter himself.
Which reminds me, did I ever tell you I am half Polish. Probably not. Not sure why I am now either except for the fact that I remember thinking about writing this very sentence while watching the movie but now forgetting where I was going to go with it.
Then I decided to walk home. I would say it is about 1.5 miles, which isn't far, but there's a lot going on in that distance. But here's why I did it: there are times when I am just walking on down the street and I will think to myself how I wish I had my camera to take a picture of something random that I come across. So, since going to see a movie by oneself is not the most blogworthy occurrence, I brought my camera with me and hoped that by walking home I would come across random things to photograph and put on this, or, better yet, something wild and random would occur that I could write about.
Yeah, none of those really happened. Per usual, I just took a bunch of pictures of neat buildings along the way. But here are some of the things I did put enough thought into taking a picture of:
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| Occupy DC in Freedom Plaza. I appreciate the enthusiasm, I just wish there were more coherent demands (like a tax on stock trades and a hefty tax increase on the super rich). |
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| I like both of these buildings and that they are right next to one another. |
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| This is a house that was once a Laundry business. |
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| I can't say that I have ever seen cars park in the middle of the street like this anywhere outside of Philadelphia. |
Anyway. There is a very small area of DC in which I spend most of my free time. Most of it centers around Columbia Heights and just about all of it falls in NW. On Saturday, given the momentum I had from last weekend, I convinced my roommate to go take a brewery tour of one of DC's breweries, DC Brau. Well, while driving through NE to the brewery my NW-centric life was vindicated as there was nothing really there other than residences, which made me feel better about myself. And yeah, I know this isn't entirely true as there is H St. in NE, etc. But for the most part I haven't found a reason to spend time having fun outside of NW.
So we're at DC Brau sitting there drinking our four free samples of their beer and we realize that we are in the middle of an enjoyable situation. So we think about the potential of going to other breweries in the area. I know there are a couple more in the city proper, but they don't have tasting rooms. I do know, however, that Port City in Alexandria has one. We see that it is open until 5pm. It is 330pm. Jackpot.
Port City has the best tasting room of the DC area microbreweries. For $5 you get five tastings of their four beers and you get to keep the little glass! But DC Brau and Port City are for two very different crowds. At DC Brau, it was all young people from the city, naturally, while at Port City it was more of an older, wealthier white people crowd. So it only makes sense that DC Brau's beers are bolder and unique, while Port City's are quite subdued and by-the-book in taste. I would take one of DC Brau's over any one of Port City's, but when taken as a whole I think I would prefer Port City's.
Anyway. At this point we didn't want this budding brewery tour to end. I knew that there was a place called Mad Fox in the area. Luckily, a smartphone was in our midst, so we look that shit up and head on over there. On the way, we are stopped at a light and a Party City pops up right next to us. Halloween is right around a couple corners and we are not the costume types, so, yes, we will stop there. I spend $4 and have my costume.
Then we are walking back to the car when my roommate says something like "you will be excited at an above normal level if you look to your right." "Well, what do we have here," I exclaim. A Moe's delivery van. Yes, that Moe's. My BFF. The jesus was like, "Hey, Jeff, you know you have a pretty nice Saturday going for you? Well, it's about to get all kinds of awesomer." Needless to say, we stopped at the Moe's right up the road and enjoyed every ounce of it.
Driving onward, we come across a Dogfish Head Alehouse on our right. My roommate and I look at each other. He asks, "Are we doing this?" Yes, yes we are. And we did. Unlike most breweries, you couldn't choose your samples. For $9 they give you a standard five with their seasonal. Not our favorites.
And we still had Mad Fox to get to. At this point the smartphone was dead but luckily we had looked it up earlier. This one is in downtown Fairfax, which is a fancy pants locale, and the brewpub was the nicest brewery that I have ever been to in terms of fanciness of the people and decor. And the beer was all right. We are not yet satisfied enough to call it a day yet so we ask the bartender if there are any other brewpubs nearby. He says Sweetwater Tavern and gives us directions since we are smartphoneless.
Predictably, we get lost. How did people do it before smartphones? Probably the same way we did it: stop at your local gas station and hope someone there knows what you're talking about. I ask the attendant lady if she knows where it is but she does not. What we think is lucky for us, this random guy directs us there. Except he directs us in the opposite direction. And we end up in Clarendon. Which is not where we want to be. Ever. Now this is not that far from home, but you're crazy if you think we're giving up. We have until 1am to get there and we eventually do after calling them and asking how we arrive at their establishment.
I've actually been to Sweetwater before (my growler is from there--which I had every intention of bringing with me to DC Brau but DC does not consider pop-top growlers to be closed containers. Classic case of not understanding what 'closed' means.) but they actually have all different kinds of beer on tap this time. But they are similarly as bland as the others because I am a beer snob and have these types of opinions. But it was worth it all the same.
Now I know what you're thinking, "I can't believe you drank all that and drove around!!" OK, take it easy. We only had little 4oz samples all day. Over the course of 10 hours we had the equivalent of 7 beers, which, high horse rider, is below the legal limit.
Also what you're thinking: "How does one cap off a wonderful day like that?" Chinese food from Johnnys on 14th. The go-to for cheap food in Columbia Heights. No delivery, though, so if you live within walking distance consider yourself very lucky.
Then I went to Lou's and acted all American and watched professional football on Sunday, which sounds in character, but is actually out as the only reason I pay any attention to professional football is for fantasy football, which with Moe's is one of the best things to ever happen to me.
And there went my pay check.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Drinking in Denver, CO 2011
Hello there, dear reader. Oh so long it has been since I have last updated you on my life, weekend version. OK, it has only been two weeks. But I hoped you missed me like I missed you. Let me tell you why there is nothing documented on this blog about the weekend before the last one as that is a common question I have received and would like to clarify that here.
Number one reason: I was saving money/energy to go to Denver during the dates of October 6-10, which is what this post is about.
Number two: my prime reason for visiting Denver was to take advantage of all the microbreweries in the city with the most in the US and I was told that this would be kind of difficult, in addition to the sheer number of them, given the altitude. I spent a good part of the previous weekend practicing my drinking while participating in a fantasy football draft in order to up my tolerance to the altitude. A fantasy football draft in week four of the season, you wonder? Yes, it's feasible and I was part of it. Then I went home and shaved my head. Not sure why that happened, but it did. And that would be all there is to say about Saturday, the 1st of October.
Number three for not writing last weekend: OnFriday I went out on U St. with friends and ate at Fast Gourmet, which, literally, is a gourmet sandwich shop in a gas station on 14th St. Probably one of my more enjoyable nights in a while, yet pretty unblogworthy. BTW, it's a 24 hour establishment, so if you are in a mood for a gourmet sandwich at 3 am, and I know you will be, this is your place. But be prepared to wait because you will not be the only one.
Denver.
So I get in to Denver at like 10pm ET, 8pm MT on 10/6. My friend was to arrive shortly thereafter, but her flight was delayed so I commenced the Denver Microbrew Extravaganza in the airport while waiting. My first two beers of the trip were Hazed & Infused and Single Track Ale from Boulder Brewing Co. And I am pretty sure Brock Huard, only the most prolific quarterbacks in the history of the University of Washington, stopped in the bar to take a peak at the baseball score on the television.
Then we finally check-in to the hostel and find the closest bar. It is one called Steuben's. It is like 1130 now and for some reason they are cleaning up the bar. So we have a couple beers moderately quickly. I have Odell's IPA and a cheap can of Olympia. At about 1230 this bar closed down so we headed across the street to Tavern Uptown. After a Widmer's Drifter Pale Ale and a New Belgium Hoptoberfest we called it a night. But not before stopping at 7-11 for dinner. Yeah, the altitude got to us. It is not a myth. Six beers in six hours should not have this effect.
Amazingly, we get up early enough for breakfast the next day. Correction: due to the time difference we get up for breakfast the next day. Which brings me to my goals for the weekend: find Left Hand Black Jack Porter on tap; eat a cheap/delicious burrito, a bison/buffalo burger, and Rocky Mountain oysters (you know, for novelty's sake). For breakfast on Friday I accomplished the eat a cheap/delicious burrito at this little stand on the 16th St. Mall. It was 10am, but that's noon on the east coast, so I went for the lunch burrito.
Then, after my friend stopped for a real breakfast, lo and behold, it was a respectable time on the east coast to start trying more beers. So we stop in a little bar downtown while entirely under-dressed for the usual business lunch crowd that were the only other people in there. For the first time, so far, I got a beer I had had before, New Belgium Ranger IPA. However, it did not taste like that the first time I had it in Atlanta, and at this point was my favorite of the trip. It was also at this point that my friend was explaining to me how her friend says she dances like an octopus because she flails her arms about. This makes no sense to me because even though you flail your arms about it does not mean you acquire more arms in the process, especially not eight like an octopus. Ridiculous. I say she looks like a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man. With the liquor of the bar in front of us I am reminded of a rum called Kraken because it is a kraken/giant octopus on the label and ask if she has ever had it. She says no but makes it one of her life goals to find it and have a shot. We were not your usual tourists.
On the way back to the hostel we pass Yard House, which is a chain restaurant with an enormous selection of beer, many of the micro version. I was hoping they would have the Black Jack Porter. They did not, so I ordered a Left Hand 400 LB Monkey IPA. The beer I received was not an IPA but tasted a little like bananas and was also not my favorite.
The one brewery that was recommended to us more than any other when we told people we were in Denver to drink was Wynkoop. So we go there for lunch/dinner, depending on which coast you were on, and some of their brews, of course. I had the Two Guns Pilsner, Cow Town Milk Stout, and B3K Schwarzbier.
Then the Phillies game came on. This was game five in a five game series. If they lose they're out of the playoffs and my entire trip is ruined. We head on past the Rockies' Stadium to watch/drink at Breckenridge's brewpub. Actually, I would have loved to have avoided watching the game, but it's not too easy to find a bar without TVs and it's impossible for me to not watch them when I am in such a bar, most especially when the Phillies are on. Well, they lost. And I hate them. Six months of hope invested into this baseball team for almost nothing. This Friday was the first time I had experienced the feeling resembling sadness in awhile. Enlightening, yet undesirable. Luckily, I bet my roommate a trip to a chinese buffet that they would lose because I had no faith in their ability to hit the ball when it mattered, and they didn't, so I have that going for me. Oh and I had the Vanilla Porter, which, you may remember, I loved when I had it here in DC a while back, but it was very sweet coming straight from the source. Also, the Thunder Stout and Autumn Ale.
Right down the street is Blake St. Tavern, where we headed to after the game. My friend ordered a Coors Light because it'd been a long day, and I ordered a Dale's Pale Ale. Then, what do we see sitting there on the liquor shelf in front of us? None other than the Kraken. My friend then orders a Diet Coke, chips and salsa, and a shot of Kraken. Yeah, that reaction you just had right there is very similar to the one our bartender had. Long story short, I ended up drinking her Coors Light.
Then we stopped in the Tavern Uptown by our hostel again, struggled with a beer each (I had a Fat Tire), and called it a night. It was only about midnight, but after that many beers and the time change it didn't feel that early.
This was our hostel:
Looks nice, but Saturday it was like 40 degrees and raining and they only give you a sheet to sleep under and the windows were open in our room. I woke up shivering and looking for my phone as we had decided to not leave it to chance to find Black Jack Porter on tap and set my alarm so we could catch a bus up there. Problem was my phone wasn't on my bed. Of course, it had fallen down under the bed of the bottom bunk of the guy permanently living in this hostel. So at 730am MT I am awkwardly pacing the room trying to figure out how to get underneath this guy's bed without it looking like I am trying to steal his stuff. This is my nightmare. Then, of course, he wakes up and is like "what are you looking for?" I tell him my phone but he doesn't believe me. He insists I probably left it at the bar. I must give off that look of someone who loses their phone after drinking. He then says that if the phone is not under the bed he is going to be pissed off. I'm not sure I can blame him. Luckily, it was under the bed. And then another guy in the room is arguing with a family member on the phone about why he ran away from home and I figure it's probably time for me to get up.
Let's talk about miracles. How about waking up feeling fine and well after the Friday described above. Must be the altitude.
So we head on out to drink some more. This time in Longmont, CO at the Left Hand Brewery, home of the elusive Blank Jack Porter. But first we must prepare ourselves to brave the borderline freezing, rainy weather. So, after buying umbrellas, we head into a store to pick up hats and gloves, which we did not bring. Well, I got distracted by some really neat shoes and ended up leaving empty handed and no warmer, while my friend got a scraf, gloves, and a hat and was adequately clothed for the mile walk through the cold rain to the bus/brewery thereafter.
So we finally arrive at the brewery after being dropped off quite randomly on the side of the road. The whole trip was quickly worth it at first sip of the Black Jack Porter, though. Then I had a sampler of Fade to Black Pepper Porter, nitro Wake Up Dead Imperial Stout, Polestar Pilsner, and Stranger Pale Ale. Then another of the Haystack Wheat, cask of the Stranger, Black Jack Porter again (so so good--probably the best of the trip), and the real version of the 400 LB Monkey, which did not taste like the one that tasted like bananas. If you are in the Denver area, you must visit the Left Hand Brewery in Longmont. You're doing it wrong if you don't.
Back in Denver we head to another of the more popular microbreweries, Great Divide. We were hoping for a brewpub, in which they sell food, too, but this was not so. So I got samples of the Denver Pale, Hoss Rye Lager, and the Claymore Scotch Ale and then we left to find a place that served both food and beer and to meet up with my friend's friend.
My friend is from Boston. Unintentionally, we ended up in Denver's Boston bar, the Pour House. So we chitchat and eat for a bit. I have a Left Hand Saw Tooth, which was by far my friend's favorite of the trip, and an Odell's Cutthroat Porter, which is my favorite newfound brewery, and head on back to Wynkoop because I want to get a picture of the bar and my friend wants to try to their ginger bread.
Well, neither happens. But I do have their Silverback Pale Ale and London Calling IPA. And there goes Saturday.
Sunday was our relaxed day, which meant sleeping in, doing some normal people things, and not so much beer. So we start by making an unofficial law school visit to the University of Denver, as seen here:
Then we pass by the original Chipotle, which I don't realize until I am in the Chipotle by my house in DC and see a picture of it on the wall, even though I claimed every Chipotle we saw had to be the first one. Then we end up at a delightful bar called Illegal Pete's because it's Denver and, who are we kidding, we are there to drink, so I have an Upslope Brown Ale. Now, if you drink this much beer you are bound to get one or two for free, right? Well, in the midst of pouring my Upslope, the keg gets kicked and so I get charged for that one but get the next one free.
And then my friend decides that should be her last beer since she wants to get a tattoo. So we go and get her a tattoo.
Then we go back to downtown so I can get a picture of this awesomeness:
And then we head back to Wynkoop for the third time so that my friend can get the gingerbread and I can get a buffalo burger and finally take a picture for my blog. I get a Mile HiPA and a Rail Yard Ale, which was also free. I was told the gingerbread was delicious. I can tell you the buffalo burger was good, but not as good as their regular beef burger. But I cannot provide you with a picture as I forgot to take one for the third time. Must have been the altitude. Or maybe it was the (let's count them) 34 (!) different beers I had (not all of them full pints, though).
Then, on the way back to the hotel, one of the so many homeless people that are in Denver drops two pairs of scissors in the street. Can't understand that one.
Bummer about the Rocky Mountain oysters, though.
And that's Denver.
Number one reason: I was saving money/energy to go to Denver during the dates of October 6-10, which is what this post is about.
Number two: my prime reason for visiting Denver was to take advantage of all the microbreweries in the city with the most in the US and I was told that this would be kind of difficult, in addition to the sheer number of them, given the altitude. I spent a good part of the previous weekend practicing my drinking while participating in a fantasy football draft in order to up my tolerance to the altitude. A fantasy football draft in week four of the season, you wonder? Yes, it's feasible and I was part of it. Then I went home and shaved my head. Not sure why that happened, but it did. And that would be all there is to say about Saturday, the 1st of October.
Number three for not writing last weekend: OnFriday I went out on U St. with friends and ate at Fast Gourmet, which, literally, is a gourmet sandwich shop in a gas station on 14th St. Probably one of my more enjoyable nights in a while, yet pretty unblogworthy. BTW, it's a 24 hour establishment, so if you are in a mood for a gourmet sandwich at 3 am, and I know you will be, this is your place. But be prepared to wait because you will not be the only one.
Denver.
So I get in to Denver at like 10pm ET, 8pm MT on 10/6. My friend was to arrive shortly thereafter, but her flight was delayed so I commenced the Denver Microbrew Extravaganza in the airport while waiting. My first two beers of the trip were Hazed & Infused and Single Track Ale from Boulder Brewing Co. And I am pretty sure Brock Huard, only the most prolific quarterbacks in the history of the University of Washington, stopped in the bar to take a peak at the baseball score on the television.
Then we finally check-in to the hostel and find the closest bar. It is one called Steuben's. It is like 1130 now and for some reason they are cleaning up the bar. So we have a couple beers moderately quickly. I have Odell's IPA and a cheap can of Olympia. At about 1230 this bar closed down so we headed across the street to Tavern Uptown. After a Widmer's Drifter Pale Ale and a New Belgium Hoptoberfest we called it a night. But not before stopping at 7-11 for dinner. Yeah, the altitude got to us. It is not a myth. Six beers in six hours should not have this effect.
Amazingly, we get up early enough for breakfast the next day. Correction: due to the time difference we get up for breakfast the next day. Which brings me to my goals for the weekend: find Left Hand Black Jack Porter on tap; eat a cheap/delicious burrito, a bison/buffalo burger, and Rocky Mountain oysters (you know, for novelty's sake). For breakfast on Friday I accomplished the eat a cheap/delicious burrito at this little stand on the 16th St. Mall. It was 10am, but that's noon on the east coast, so I went for the lunch burrito.
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| Luckily this guy was only here during the week days, otherwise I would have been here just about every meal. |
On the way back to the hostel we pass Yard House, which is a chain restaurant with an enormous selection of beer, many of the micro version. I was hoping they would have the Black Jack Porter. They did not, so I ordered a Left Hand 400 LB Monkey IPA. The beer I received was not an IPA but tasted a little like bananas and was also not my favorite.
The one brewery that was recommended to us more than any other when we told people we were in Denver to drink was Wynkoop. So we go there for lunch/dinner, depending on which coast you were on, and some of their brews, of course. I had the Two Guns Pilsner, Cow Town Milk Stout, and B3K Schwarzbier.
Then the Phillies game came on. This was game five in a five game series. If they lose they're out of the playoffs and my entire trip is ruined. We head on past the Rockies' Stadium to watch/drink at Breckenridge's brewpub. Actually, I would have loved to have avoided watching the game, but it's not too easy to find a bar without TVs and it's impossible for me to not watch them when I am in such a bar, most especially when the Phillies are on. Well, they lost. And I hate them. Six months of hope invested into this baseball team for almost nothing. This Friday was the first time I had experienced the feeling resembling sadness in awhile. Enlightening, yet undesirable. Luckily, I bet my roommate a trip to a chinese buffet that they would lose because I had no faith in their ability to hit the ball when it mattered, and they didn't, so I have that going for me. Oh and I had the Vanilla Porter, which, you may remember, I loved when I had it here in DC a while back, but it was very sweet coming straight from the source. Also, the Thunder Stout and Autumn Ale.
Right down the street is Blake St. Tavern, where we headed to after the game. My friend ordered a Coors Light because it'd been a long day, and I ordered a Dale's Pale Ale. Then, what do we see sitting there on the liquor shelf in front of us? None other than the Kraken. My friend then orders a Diet Coke, chips and salsa, and a shot of Kraken. Yeah, that reaction you just had right there is very similar to the one our bartender had. Long story short, I ended up drinking her Coors Light.
Then we stopped in the Tavern Uptown by our hostel again, struggled with a beer each (I had a Fat Tire), and called it a night. It was only about midnight, but after that many beers and the time change it didn't feel that early.
This was our hostel:
Let's talk about miracles. How about waking up feeling fine and well after the Friday described above. Must be the altitude.
So we head on out to drink some more. This time in Longmont, CO at the Left Hand Brewery, home of the elusive Blank Jack Porter. But first we must prepare ourselves to brave the borderline freezing, rainy weather. So, after buying umbrellas, we head into a store to pick up hats and gloves, which we did not bring. Well, I got distracted by some really neat shoes and ended up leaving empty handed and no warmer, while my friend got a scraf, gloves, and a hat and was adequately clothed for the mile walk through the cold rain to the bus/brewery thereafter.
So we finally arrive at the brewery after being dropped off quite randomly on the side of the road. The whole trip was quickly worth it at first sip of the Black Jack Porter, though. Then I had a sampler of Fade to Black Pepper Porter, nitro Wake Up Dead Imperial Stout, Polestar Pilsner, and Stranger Pale Ale. Then another of the Haystack Wheat, cask of the Stranger, Black Jack Porter again (so so good--probably the best of the trip), and the real version of the 400 LB Monkey, which did not taste like the one that tasted like bananas. If you are in the Denver area, you must visit the Left Hand Brewery in Longmont. You're doing it wrong if you don't.
Back in Denver we head to another of the more popular microbreweries, Great Divide. We were hoping for a brewpub, in which they sell food, too, but this was not so. So I got samples of the Denver Pale, Hoss Rye Lager, and the Claymore Scotch Ale and then we left to find a place that served both food and beer and to meet up with my friend's friend.
My friend is from Boston. Unintentionally, we ended up in Denver's Boston bar, the Pour House. So we chitchat and eat for a bit. I have a Left Hand Saw Tooth, which was by far my friend's favorite of the trip, and an Odell's Cutthroat Porter, which is my favorite newfound brewery, and head on back to Wynkoop because I want to get a picture of the bar and my friend wants to try to their ginger bread.
Well, neither happens. But I do have their Silverback Pale Ale and London Calling IPA. And there goes Saturday.
Sunday was our relaxed day, which meant sleeping in, doing some normal people things, and not so much beer. So we start by making an unofficial law school visit to the University of Denver, as seen here:
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| Nice school, but I am too much of an east coast person to live all the way out there. |
And then my friend decides that should be her last beer since she wants to get a tattoo. So we go and get her a tattoo.
Then we go back to downtown so I can get a picture of this awesomeness:
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| Convention Center |
Then, on the way back to the hotel, one of the so many homeless people that are in Denver drops two pairs of scissors in the street. Can't understand that one.
Bummer about the Rocky Mountain oysters, though.
And that's Denver.
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