Back in San Francisco

It's WhiskyFest season again, and I've been running around the Bay Area since Wednesday evening. The Malt Advocate staff, all six of us, landed around 5 local, just in time to get the news of Doc Halladay's epochal postseason no-hitter. We were pumped for the evening. The women headed out to dinner, John and Jamie and I headed for Toronado and a rendezvous with beers and Dave "Big Daddy" Keene.

We found 'em. I got stuck into a Moonlight Death and Taxes schwarz right quick, then Brian's Twist of Fate and Bombay by Boat, both on cask. We got sausages from Rosamunde next door (got my usual Merguez, awesome, and had a bite of a "spare" Thai chicken with slaw and satay; outstanding), then moved into the back room to try four vintages of Cable Car (sigh...), and dove into the big Duvel you see Dave holding up here (that's Jamie in the background). We wound up heading out to the Pi Bar (more Death & Taxes and a couple slices), then closed the hotel bar (Trumer Pils, always welcome).

Dang. I thought I'd get more written -- about lunch with Jay Brooks at Triple Rock, Beer Revolution,  vegan soul food (really), Angel's Envy, a beautiful mojito at Zuni Cafe, and a dram of 35 year old Ardbeg this morning with Rachel Barrie...but I've been watching the Blue Angels roar through the amazingly blue sky over the city, and Thomas called to let me know he got part of his birthday present (a fog gun, because 19 year old guys need toys too), and, well...I'll write more later. Gotta go to WhiskyFest right now!

A bad hair day, and a good whiskey day

I'm in Manhattan for WhiskyFest New York (it's tonight, and it's sold out!). But things could be better. For one thing, I got a haircut this morning, and I'm seriously unhappy about it, especially the way-too-tight beard trim. I feel nekked. Second, about six hours after I took this death-mask shot, I broke the templepiece on my glasses, so I'm in NY, working WhiskyFest in my old glasses, which really sucks, for reasons I explained here.

Whiny bitch. I'm still in Manhattan for WhiskyFest, after all. And I think I may go out for a pint after lunch. The options are staggering...but I only have 90 minutes. Decisions!

WhiskyFest: Good News, Bad News

Just got the latest WhiskyNotes from Malt Advocate.

The good news: These new whiskies will be at WhiskyFest New York: Ardbeg's Corryvreckan (we tasted a bit of this at the Malt Advocate staff party in August; it's excellent), Hibiki (sampled this blended whisky from Suntory at WFSF, quite nice stuff), Pappy Van Winkle 23 yr., Parker's Heritage Collection 27 yr., Glenmorangie Signet, Glenrothes 1975, The Dalmore 1974, Glen Grant 10 yr., Glen Grant 16 yr.; and these exhibitors will be at WFNY for the first time: GlenDronach (again, some nice tastings at WFSF), The Wild Geese Irish Soldiers & Heroes, Amrut Indian Single Malt (tasted these at Binny's in Chicago: very good for their age), Finger Lakes Distilling (source of that rye we had at Man Full of Trouble), N. PALAZZI Spirits, Pierre Ferrand Cognac.

The bad news? WhiskyFest New York is sold out, so if you don't have a ticket, it's too late. Which is, after all, good news for Malt Advocate, and good news for the whisky biz.

WhiskyFest San Francisco: the wrap-up

As I said, Friday morning Jamie Fox and I walked up to Dottie's True Blue to get breakfast. We stood in line for about 20 minutes (and the line just got longer and longer), talking to some people from Harrisburg, then got two seats at the counter: front-row on the action. I went simple this time and got an omelette with bacon, mushrooms, and spinach. Yum, but the buttermilk dill toast was the absolute kickass part of the meal.

Kind of frittered away much of the rest of the day. Walked around the area a bit, did a little shopping (needed a new charger for my mp3 player, trinkets for the family, suchlike), then went back and watched the Phillies till it was time to get showered and dressed for the fest. We went California casual this year: sportscoat, no tie, and it felt good.

The fest went very well. We increased the number of tickets by almost 50% (1800) and sold out! We'd also increased the size of the ballroom, and the crowd density was just about perfect this time. Wish we could hit that balance with WhiskyFest NY. The seminars, my responsibility, were all well-attended and smooth. We only had one 'over-refreshed' patron; he was taken care of courteously by the hotel staff.

Whisky? I never have time. Had a very nice Caol Isla that Lorne Mackillop suggested -- thanks for that! -- and a Dalmore 15 with Willie Tait. Hmmm... couple Glendronachs, and a High West Rendezvous Rye. Enough! The Fest was over, and after John and I made a beer run (Sierra Nevada Anniversary, pinot grigio, snacks and nuts), we had a short after-party in John & Amy's room, then called it a successful night. Had to get up early for the flight home; uneventful, and made it in time to sing in a 7:00 concert, which was successful too.

Going on the Drinko: Day Two in San Francisco

I never did get back to you on the rest of the trip to San Francisco. After puttering about, showering and getting dressed, some e-mail, some reading I had to do, and such, I called Jamie Fox -- husband of long-time Malt Advocate staffer Kathy Fox, and a good friend -- and asked him if he had anything planned for lunch. How about we go across the Bay and hit two brewpubs in Berkeley, I temptingly offered. He quickly accepted, and we grabbed a BART train at about 11:15 for the trip to Berkeley Downtown.

Jupiter is right across the street from the station, intriguingly close and signed with a script neon that had called to me last year...but I had no time then. This year I did, and Jamie and I crossed the street and went in. They'd just opened, and the bar still smelled a bit of sour beer from the night before, so we wandered out back into a lovely little beer oasis, with a fountain pool that had a gas flame firepit in the middle; quite Elemental. We sat under the arbor, relaxed, and it was good.

Even better, so was the beer. I had a very nice glass of helles, which pleased me immensely: a brewpub lager, in California, and it was delish! I hadn't had anything to eat yet, and quickly ordered the Asian chicken skewers (good, and the peanut sauce was good, but not tremendous). Mostly we just relaxed and enjoyed the moment, the beautiful weather, the peaceful spot, and the friendly attentions of our waitress, Elizabeth. When the time was right, I ordered my lunch, a Galileo pizza: artichoke hearts, mushrooms, cheeses, garlic, spinach, and diced fresh tomato. And a porter, which was also quite nice; just a touch chocolatey, very drinkable.

Eventually, we left, though not before discovering that I'd apparently lost four credit cards! Luckily I had plenty of cash, and paid up with that. (I would eventually learn that the cards had dropped out of my wallet in a cab the night before; no harm, no foul, just a bit of angst.)

Up Shattuck we walked to Triple Rock. So comfortable, so welcoming, so friendly. I stuck to porter, and enjoyed it, and enjoyed the interplay of bar patrons. Nice people at Triple Rock, an older crowd -- at least, during the day when I've been there the last two years -- and Jamie was happy with it. After our first round, we noticed that our time was running down -- had to get back to the hotel to do some WhiskyFest work -- so we got right to the business we'd come for: a liter bottle of Monkey Head Arboreal Ale, a specialty beer brewed for Triple Rock at Drake's and only available on Thursdays; I don't know why, but I missed it last year and I wanted it.

Well...it was okay. It was good, it was solid, but it wasn't compelling. I was saddened, but not enough to put a dent on this great afternoon. The credit card situation was maybe preying on my mind a bit, to be honest. We pulled stakes and got back on the BART to the hotel.

A little work, and then we went out to see Parker Beam and the Heaven Hill folks at Rickhouse, a new bourbon bar: John and Amy Hansell, the hard-working Joan McGinley, and myself (we supposed Jamie was under the drink flag, but it was actually Kathy who was napping!). Good time, but hot up in the upper balcony/mezzanine. Delish drinks: a punch made, I believe, with Bernheim wheat whiskey, or maybe that was in the second drink, a smash with a blazingly fresh and aromatic mint leaf on top. I got into a conversation with a rep from Bols, who was shocked to learn that not only did I know what genever was, I was a fan, and had five different bottles at home, none of which were her product. What can I say, I like the stuff.

After that, we headed for Magnolia Pub & Brewery, where we were to be met again by Dave Keene. It was hopping, and we put our names in for a table and headed for the bar. At least, John and I did; we thought Amy and Joan were with us, but we lost them. We had headed in different directions (why would you head in any direction other than the bar?). We hadn't gotten the bartender's attention yet when a waitress said she had a booth open that she could put a chair to; would that do? Sure! We sat, and quickly ordered pints of cask Marin IPA. By God, they were just about perfect.

Unfortunately, we would have problems getting more of them, as our waitress at that point seemed to get very confused, and would bring us Marin Mt. Tam Pale Ale every time thereafter, despite John's telling her, This is not the beer I ordered. She brought him another Mt. Tam, and we gave up. It was good, but it wasn't the IPA. I short-circuited the problem by ordering cask Cole Porter, a house beer, and it was good.

The two women had rejoined us at this point, and Dave had arrived, so we fell to our dinners, which were excellent (rare burger, heavenly). When dins was over, we walked out into the warm early evening (it was actually quite warm, and a bit muggy, and no one has AC in SF...), looked up and down Haight, and thought about options. Amy and Joan grabbed a cab and headed for Bourbon & Branch; Dave and John and I decided to walk up Haight to Alembic. We were all thinking cocktail, something light, cool, sippy, and sophisticated.

However...Alembic was jammed (and hot), so we reluctantly went back out to the street, and caught our own cab to Bourbon & Branch. What's the password, the doorkeeper asked. WhiskyFest, we answered, and he said, that'll do. We went to Joan and Amy's table, tucked into the back room, and ordered drinks...which arrived just after we left on a tour of the whole place, including the Library and the new cigar bar. Great tour, fascinating bar with a lot of history, and a lot has been put into making it just so. Unfortunately, when we got back, our drinks had been sitting for almost half an hour, and they were limp and exhausted. The waitress got us fresh ones, but we weren't knocked out by them.

Hmmm...lemme see the menu. I was hot, which was part of the problem, so I looked for a tall drink, something more refreshing. How about this: a Democrat, bourbon, peach liqueur, honey, and fresh lemon juice in a collins glass full of ice. Sounds great! Best of all, I quipped, it's a Democrat: someone else will pay for it! (just a joke, folks...) It was delicious, cold and refreshing.

It was also the end. I walked back to the hotel -- everyone else took a cab, and only beat me by about minute -- and hit the hay. Jamie and I had planned to hit Dottie's True Blue for breakfast Friday morning, and I had to get rested!

Unique Whiskies at San Francisco WhiskyFest

While I'm pimping John's blog, you should really check this out. Last year we initiated a charity tasting at WhiskyFest San Francisco. For $20/$40 a quarter ounce, with all proceeds donated to a local food bank, guests could try some rare or -- in the case of four specially-created bottles of The Macallan -- unique whiskies. We upped the bar this year: there are six unique whiskies/whiskeys at WhiskyFest San Francisco: truly unique, only available here, single-bottle, absolute "one offs."

Intrigued? Read all about it.

WhiskyFest Holds the Line

John Hansell just confirmed on his blog (check the comments in the linked post) something we'd talked about at the last Malt Advocate staff meeting: there will be no increase in prices for WhiskyFest 2009 tickets in any of the three cities. We recognize the problems of the economy and you, the people in that economy, and that there are many competing attractions for your whisky dollar. We're doing what we can to bring you the very best whisky festivals in the world at a price you can still afford. Cheers, hope to see you there.

NYWF: Run up to WhiskyFest NYC

As I said, Cathy and I went up to NYC for WhiskyFest a week ago. We caught an afternoon train and got to the Marriott Marquis just in time to check in and run for a cab to get down to Union Square Cafe for dinner with the rest of the staff. Good thing we ran: we clocked up $6 just getting around the block! (The effect of the economy on the theater district seemed to be minimal...though I'm sure someone could argue that (probably won't, though, now that the election's over...) On down to Union Square!

Always a fun time going out with the Malt Advocate staff. The beer list, as mentioned earlier, was not deep, though I was able to alternate between the wholly acceptable Anchor Steam and Allagash White, depending on what I was eating. The wine types had an Italian white that they were apparently quite happy with. Cathy got a gnocchi appetizer that was quite good, a new standard for gnocchi for me (I love gnocchi, and now I love it even more). I got a plate of five cheeses (about an ounce of each), three of which were quite nice. My entree was a tough choice, but I finally got the branzino. It was quite yum.

Dinner broke up and it was a question: go to the hotel, go out for drinks around the hotel, catch the L train to Brooklyn and go to Spuyten Duyvil and Barcade, or go to dba. I'll go to dba, I told John, if Ray Deter's there. So John gets out the cell, calls Ray, and bingo, we were in a cab for dba: me, John, Cathy, and Jim McGinley (you may remember Jim from our Fado exploits). We grabbed a table by the front and got beers.

I got Ridgeway Bitter, which was just grand. Then Ray showed up and started pulling out beers. The first thing he did was throw on a small keg of Taras Boulba (from the De La Senne brewery), a beer the BAs have been frothing about and I'd been interested in trying. I got my wish, and was soon wishing I could have stuck with the Ridgeway. I thought the TB was thin, flatly bitter, and astringent; I'm hoping it's better in the bottle. The next one he brought out, Stouterik (also from De La Senne (did Dan Shelton just come to town?), finally did send me back to the Ridgeway for one last one: the Stouterik was, again, astringent, and uninteresting. We did have a great time talking and getting caught up -- long time since I'd hung out with Ray -- and finally got back to the hotel about 1:30.

Tuesday morning we met Thomas's godfather and namesake Tom Curtin for breakfast and a ton of conversation and catch-up (I'm godfather to Tom's son Michael Augustine), and then we got this shot.









We walked a couple more blocks with TC, then he peeled off for work, and Cathy and I went to M&M World. I love me some M&Ms, and it was a fun few minutes, especially when Cathy got into the M&M Analyzer and it told her that her color was "Silver" and that her outer shell was soft and needed re-structuring. (My color was "Green," by the way, and my energy is contagious. So watch out for my energy, baby.)

Hmmm...running out of battery. Guess it's not contagious for laptops. More later.

Busy week

Sorry I've been absent, it's been a busy week.

Monday afternoon Cathy and I trained up to NYC for WhiskyFest prep; we had dinner with the Malt Advocate staff at Union Square Cafe (great food; pretty lame beer list, guys) and then went down to dba for beers.

Tuesday we had breakfast with Thomas's godfather (he works in Manhattan) and got some stuff at M&M World on Times Square; helped set up WhiskyFest, and then from 3 to 10:30, it was presenting the world's best whiskeys at the Marriott Marquis (I made sure to sample some more this time, and I'll tell you about them when I get a moment, including the new Swedish Mackmyra), followed by Unibroue and whiskies in the magazine suite.

Wednesday we came home, reassured Penderyn that we really did still love him, and after some quick phone interviews, I went down to the Philadelphia Whiskey Festival. My first time, beautiful venue...but it ain't WhiskyFest, brother.

Thursday I worked pretty much non-stop on my Ale Street column and my next Massachusetts Beverage Biz story (had a singing rehearsal in the evening).

Friday I finished the MBB story at 12:45 and left at 1:40 for The Lion, where I got a tour, and attended the regional MBAA meeting (they've invited me a number of times, this was the first one I could make; hell, I might join); heard Dave Edgar from HopUnion talk on the hop outlook (good, mostly; more later) and a presentation on filtration pads, all in The Lion's newly refurbished taproom -- looking good! Then I slipped west for a couple short ones at One Guy -- damn, Berwick really likes the place!

Today...I've got my errands done, and I'm headed for Iron Hill Newark for the Black & Tan Cask event, then going out for dinner with friends tonight.

Whew... I hope to post something more substantial on all this soon. I thought November was going to be a bit slower!

Big Daddy and more oysters

Friday morning we got up early and walked out in the brisk, breezy morning, up the hill to Dottie's True Blue Cafe. Great timing: we walked right in the door and sat down at a table, and didn't miss the usual wait in line at all (by the time we left, the line was out the door). Lots of good coffee floated us through breakfast; I had a lamb-fennel sausage and goat cheese scramble with their buttermilk dill bread, Cathy had a whiskey fennel sausage omelette with grilled cornbread. Plenty of good chow, and neither of us felt a need for more till about 6:00 that night.

We walked back to the hotel and got to work on set-up for WhiskyFest: setting up the tables for registration and sales, putting up our signage (we've gone pro with retractable stand-up banners, but one of them needed some banging and convincing to work properly), and sorting the hundreds of ID bands for VIP and regular guests. By about 11 AM we were done. We went up to the room, cleaned up a little, and walked down to 4th Street Bar & Deli.

I know I've said places are JAFSB (Just Another Freakin' Sports Bar), and 4th Street largely was...but we weren't there for sports TV or wings, we were there for beer. I started with a Speakeasy Big Daddy IPA, the beer that John had told me they had here. Great stuff: not just hoppy, it's built on a base of solid, sweet maltiness, a nice solid West Coast IPA. Then I got to looking at the full beer menu -- got a taste of Speakeasy's White Lightning, a surprisingly pleasant filtered West Coast hefe (real style-snake biting its own tail, there) -- and lo and behold, there was Russian River Damnation. JAFSB? Well, not quite! After I finished that little beauty, and Cathy finished her iced tea, she went off to shop for make-up at Sephora (what a look she had on her face), and I went back to the room.

I hadn't more than sat down when an idea hit me: call Jim McGinley, husband of our events manager, Joan. Jim's a fun guy I don't get to hang out with enough, and he's usually up for a beer. I got hold of him, and we were soon hiking up to Johnny Foley's. It was time for Guinness! We grabbed two pints and lubed our conversation. Damned good jars, poured properly, and didn't it drive me to get a half-dozen oysters on the half-shell? Yes indeed, and they were delish. (Weird moment: recognized the song on the sound system as the Boomtown Rats "Someone's Looking At You," a song I haven't heard anywhere except on my own stereo for years.) Another pint, some great stories, and then we headed back to the hotel to get spruced up for WhiskyFest.
Things were a bit rough this year at first -- our first time at this hotel, which always takes some adjusting -- but soon ran very smoothly. We had some amazing whiskies that distillers had donated to raise money for charity (San Francisco's FoodRunners): five years of the Glenfarclas Family Casks, five bottles of Glenlivet Cellar Collection, and four one-time, one-bottle special bottlings of The Macallan, selected by four current and past distillery managers. That was just kind of cool to see the labels sporting "Bottle 1 of 1." Cathy wound up pouring the Glenfarclas, and had a fun time with it.

And once again, I ran into Ethan Prater. It's all webs, folks. Hmmm...they're calling my flight. Gotta go. More in a while, including why I'm catching a flight.

Beer Before Liquor: never slicker

Cathy and I caught a morning flight to San Francisco yesterday, but not before being accosted by two hooligans in the terminal: Don "Joe Sixpack" Russell and Origlio craft/import genius Jim Meiers. They were on their way to Denver for GABF. After a few laughs over Sara Palin's "Joe Sixpack" remarks and how every damned news outlet in the country's been calling Don for an official statement, we headed to our respective flights (funny: Don's actually going to SF from Denver for Sunday's Eagles game...by which time we'll be back in Philly).

After a long flight, we touched down about fifteen minutes late (thanks to some schmuck who insisted on getting up out of his seat while we were taxiing on takeoff), took forever to get our luggage, and then took BART into town, which delivered us half a block from our room at the Marriott Downtown. By the time we were checked in, and had refreshed, it was 3 o'clock, and we had reservations for our traditional "night before the Fest" staff dinner at 21st Amendment. Clearly, we'd have to hustle to squeeze in some other beertime.

Hustle we did: we got back on BART, just timing the train, and went across the Bay to the Downtown Berkeley stop, which is just about two blocks from the beautiful sight you see here: Triple Rock Brewery. I really wanted to get here last year, but it just didn't work out. This year it was by God gonna work out, and it was worth it.

The last time I'd been to Triple Rock was in January, 1988, when I was living in Salinas. I loved the place, the vibe, the juke, the beer! And here I was, back again, with the girl I started dating only six months after that first visit; we even sat in the same seats that my friend Bobby Gryce and I had sat in back in '88. That may sound like a set-up for dashed expectations, but I'm happy to report that Triple Rock lived up to every one of them. The service was quick, smart, and sassy (thanks, Jesse...er, at least, that's what you said your name was to those two road-tripping girls), the grilled veg quesadilla was hot and gooey-delish, and the beer rocked.

On Jesse's recommendation, we had the Harvest Ale (a fresh hop wonder that just reeked of resin, huge hop nose) and a great big stout their last brewer had hammered together as his last brew (very rich, restrained bitterness, chocolate notes, and way too drinkable for the advertised 11% ABV). We got stuck into those pretty quick -- first beer of the day! -- and got another round: Titanium Pale Ale (wickedly drinkable at 7.4, living up to its brilliant "Light but strong!" motto, and really refreshing, too, not whackedly hopped up) and Dragon's Milk (a dry-hopped brown ale that was almost like a dark IPA, quite an assertive beer). I kind of tore into the jalapenos on the quesadilla and needed one more: I wanted to get the Black Rock Porter I'd had 20 years ago, but it was out, so I got another Harvest Ale.

What we didn't get -- and I'm regretting it already -- was a bottle of Monkey Head Arboreal Ale, one of which you see in the pic. They only serve it on Thursdays, and you have to drink it there. I wanted to, but it's 9%, and by the time we got the idea, we only had about 20 minutes left before we had to leave. Maybe next time, because the idea of a beer that's only served on Thursdays intrigued me. Meantime, we got into a very nice conversation with a woman who came in and grabbed the stool next to Cathy, who turned out to be a cancer researcher, and they were talking shop a mile a minute. Me, I just relaxed and drank in the vibe. Triple Rock was just how I remembered it, and that's a wonderful thing.

We hustled down to the BART station and once again timed the train on the button -- dumb luck, or as Cathy called it, "the Brother System," explaining that her brothers never planned anything and things just always fell into place. Hell of a system! We got back in time to meet everyone at the hotel, and Amy whistled up a limo (I swear, the woman's addicted to limos) to take us to 21st Amendment...which is going to have to wait for another post, because it's time to walk and grab breakfast before doing set-up for the festival.

WhiskyFest, here we come

Cathy and I are leaving for WhiskyFest San Francisco this morning. We'll do the usual: hit a few bars, drink a few drinks, see the sights, and help put on the best whisky event in the world. More to come...

WhiskyFest San Francisco: Day One

We've arrived in San Francisco for WhiskyFest; got in last night, actually. We got to the Hyatt at 6:10, and by 6:50 we were on our way to the Toronado, which is, well, one of the best damned beer bars in the country. At least, I'd been told that, and had no reason to doubt it, but...I'd never been. So we went.

And we did get stuck into it. That's Toronado owner Dave Keene, me, and Malt Advocate publisher John Hansell...well, last night John wasn't the publisher. He was a guy who'd been going to Toronado for years, hanging out with his buddy Dave. I was lucky enough to tag along.

I was also lucky enough to be in time for dinner from Rosamunde's Sausage Grill next door. Oh, God, yum. Dave and John each got their beer sausage, Cathy had a duck sausage (with figs), I had a merguez (smoked lamb and beef), and Jim McGinley (husband of our magazine manager, Joan) had a hot Italian. I had a bite of Cathy's, and I can definitely report that our two were superb. Gawd. Two landmarks I definitely wanted to visit, down in two hours. Rock on!

Before anyone thinks this has turned into "Seen Through A Big Piece of Meat," let me say that the El Toro Deuce I started the evening with was great: hoppy and fresh, not overpowering. Then we had glasses of the Toronado 20th Anniversary that Vinnie Cilurzo had brewed at Russian River, and it was arresting: sour, deep, with a deftly woven character of oak and teasing sweetness that grew towards the end of the swallow. I also had a Moonlight Sublimmminal IPA (I think that's how they spelled it) from the cask (four handpumps, BTW: all pouring): an interesting project. Dave said it was all mash-hopping and dry-hopping, no hops in the kettle. Very good, and quite drinkable. A sip of John's Blind Pig IPA (Russian River) brought back memories of this beer from GABF in 1996, wow. It's a shame this beer gets overlooked in the rush to the Pliny's.

Wow. So now Cathy and I are in our room on Monday morning, ready to head out. This is the view, a picture I just took a minute ago. We're going to walk for about an hour, have breakfast, and do some sightseeing: tour of Anchor Brewing at 1:00, meeting a friend for beers at 5, and then going out for a big staff dinner. Should be fun.

WhiskyFest Chicago: Getting Ready for the Fest

Friday the 13th was Fest Day in Chicago. Cathy and I did a walk in the morning (teased by a tantalizing smell of chocolate being made that I never did track down), then had a healthy oatmeal at a Corner Bakery (a chain, yes, but of Chicago origin, so...) and went back to the Hyatt to get set for the evening. We set up over 2,200 tasting/nosing glasses, the programs and free copies of Malt Advocate, checked the seminar room set-up, prepped the ballroom as much as possible, and then went out to lunch.

We went to the downtown Rock Bottom brewpub at the corner of State and Grand Sts. (had some pix, but they got garbled, sorry), and stepped up to the bar, back by the pool tables. Cathy started with a glass of dry stout (pretty unremarkable stuff, unfortunately), I got the hefeweizen (a Bavarian-type classic, tilted towards the banana side and deliciously fresh and zesty). Our bartender, Autumn, also got us two barrel-aged samples: an impie stout (good, bourbony, but could have been more robust for an impie) and a winter warmer (excellent: big and malty, with rich bourbon-infused depth).

We ordered lunch and sipped and chatted. The place looked a lot like the Denver RB: dark honey-colored wood, broken up into a series of medium-sized rooms (we were actually in a kind of alcove, an ell of the bar), an older look rather than the more modern look of RB King of Prussia. I finished my wheat and ordered a Brown Bear Brown Ale (good -- a chocolate edge, drinkable, with a nice touch of mineral dryness).

Lunch came: I had a smoked chicken enchilada with rice & beans and some kind of potato corn hot salad...thing, all quite good; Cathy had a portabella melt on a small focaccia-type roll (juicy without being wet, nice) and barbecue beans (great flavor, but the onion straws on top quickly got soggy and yucky). We split on two sides: brown ale-braised mushrooms (delicious, done just right, and enriched by the ale) and roasted asparagus (not so: underdone -- I like it crisp but not crunchy -- and not so flavorful). I'd love to see more restaurants do this steakhouse-style vegetable side thing.

We walked back to the Hyatt, Cathy read and took a nap while I drank coffee and wrote the entry on Thursday. We showered and got dressed, and went downstairs about 3:00. Time to get to work.