Cerveza en Colorado

Most times, when a new brewery starts up in or around Denver, Nicole and I are there within a week or two of the grand opening.  Renegade Brewing Company and Denver Beer Co.?  We were there just a few days after their doors opened.  Arvada Beer Company?  We got there before the grand opening and drank at the soft opening.  I pride myself on keeping abreast of new taprooms however, every once in a while, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Nicole and I to hit a “new” brewery—like five years.  We’ve remedied the situation, though; we can finally add number 81 to the list of visited Colorado breweries: Del Norte Brewing Co.—purveyors of Mexican-style lagers (Yes, they’re located in Denver, not Del Norte; the one in Del Norte is called Three Barrel Brewing Co.)

There is a brewery in there, believe it or not

The delay’s not all our fault, though.  In fact, we tried to drink at Del Norte two years ago but we ran into a little snag.  According to brand manager Aaron Jones (whom we met at Brew at the Zoo), Del Norte reversed the natural order of upstart breweries: they hit distribution hard and then concentrated on creating an on-premise tasting room.  On Nicole and I’s first attempt, there was no place for the public to drink—just a small space at the far end of a loading dock in an area of town that’s not exactly known for its law-abiding citizenry.  Driving down the long, industrial lot to Del Norte feels like you’re about to meet a mob boss rather than visit a brewery.    We didn’t stay long on that first trip lest a boulder from the nearby rock-crushing factory (I don’t know what they really do but crushing rocks is what it looked like they do) crumple our car or a transient meth-head gut me for the $3 in my pocket. 

We're either headed for a brewery or a mugging.  I can't tell which.

We never forgot, though, and finally made it back this past Friday to get ourselves a little Mexican liquid love.  But first, a tangent: I don’t like it when American brewers claim to brew “Mexican-style” beers because, in my opinion, there’s no such thing.  A typical Mexican beer is really an attempted imitation of a German or Bohemian Pilsner.  Pacifico?  Corona?  Those flavors—save for the acrid piss adjunct—aren’t unique to Mexican beers, they’re just (poorly) copying the beers of the Old World.  It drives the point home when you take into account names of certain Mexican and Latin American beers like Bohemia and Costa Rica’s Pilsen and Imperial which features a German war-hawk logo (okay, maybe it's not a "war-hawk" per se but all German insignia looks pretty intimidating)—their names scream “Europe!”  Thus, when American brewers make “Mexican beer” they’re really just emulating an emulation.  This goes for you, too, Mexican Logger from Ska.

Never mind the minutiae, let’s get back to the story.  Driving up to Del Norte you can really tell their emphasis is on bottling and distribution and not on-site drinking.  The roadside sign is hand-painted on what appears to be plywood—the kind of craftsmanship usually reserved for signs reading “Garage Sale,” “Free Couch,” or “Bobby Jay & Susie Mae’s Weding Ree-sepshun.” 

The tasting room is cozy and resplendent with signage and awards from all the beer festivals Del Norte’s attended.  Nicole and I grabbed a table and ordered El Guapo, a Bohemian Pilsner, because it was the only Del Norte beer I’ve yet to drink.  A word of warning to those planning a visit: bring cash.  Credit cards are not accepted.  The bartender informed me of this as he pointed to the wall as if to indicate a sign that said as much.  I saw no such sign—I think he was just pointing to the air to confuse me.

El Guapo is, besides an allusion to one of my favorite movies, a clear, goldenrod color with an off-white head and a light, sweet aroma.  There’s hint of noble hop bitterness in the flavor but it’s but a touch.  El Guapo is also a bit yeasty and tasting of a pretzel. 

As we drank and assessed El Guapo, we were met by a fellow named Martin Noreke who owns a business called FirkinSense.  From what I gathered, his company creates software systems for small breweries so that brewers can focus on making beer and not on inventory, cash flow, sales, and things of that ilk.  They’re trying to win a $250,000 grant from Chase and LivingSocial and—guess what?—you can help them out!  Go to www.missionsmallbusiness.com, login via Facebook, search for “FirkinSense,” and vote.  They only need 250 votes so get cracking on it.

El Guapo

Before we left I took the quickie tour of the facility i.e. the bartender opened the door to the back and I walked around for a few minutes admiring the shiny tanks.  You can tell just by looking that Del Norte’s focus is on distribution—they have a lot more equipment than the average Colorado brewery.

After visiting Del Norte, my thoughts on the brewery are pretty much the same as before because I’ve imbibed most all of their beers—just not where said beers were birthed.  They make solid, traditional beers that are great for quenching a mid-summer thirst but, if you’re looking for any unique beer interpretations, look elsewhere—Del Norte’s all about the clean and simple.

Prost!

Chris     

Porch Beers to the Extreme

To be a craft beer mecca, one must, of course, have great beer.  There’re other factors that go into the creation of a beer hotspot, though.  For one, you must have the support of the people.  It’s a chicken-or-the-egg situation in Colorado: do we love beer because there are so many breweries or are there so many breweries because we love beer?  Whatever the reason, we’re packing our state full of ales and lagers and—greedy little beer geeks that we are—we keep asking for more.  Decent weather is also a major plus.  There’s something romantic about drinking a strong, dark beer beside a crackling hearth as a rainstorm rivaling Noah’s deluge falls outside—it’s just so classically English to drink in such situations.  However, given the choice, I’ll take shorts, sandals, a porch, and a sunburn with my beer.  Colorado has all the makings: great beer, great support, and great weather.  The new Lowry Beer Garden, located on the old Lowry Air Force Base, has wisely capitalized on all of these assets.

Last weekend, Nicole and I visited my brother and his family and, considerate people that we are, kidnapped their oldest child and whisked her off to the playground so that her parents might have a few hours to rest, work around the house, and dote upon the new baby.  After much swinging, sliding, climbing, and failed ransom attempts, we returned their daughter and celebrated the reunion with a trip to the week-old (at the time) Lowry Beer Garden located next door to the Wings Over the Rockies Air & Space Museum.  Generally, I’m not an aeronautical aficionado but there’s something awe-inspiring about sipping suds in the shadow of a stationary (but nonetheless intimidating) giant, silver cargo plane.  Or is that a bomber?  I don’t know—It’s a big, flying thingy; that’s the extent of my aircraft knowledge.    

I don't know what kind of plane that is, I just know it's badass

On the other side of the Lowry Beer Garden is an old hangar that’s been converted to storage units.  Being surrounded by aviation history, the Lowry Beer Garden has picked up subtle inspirations from its environment.  Take, for example, the gently curved roof that mirrors that of the neighboring hangar.  Let me just say that, when I make my millions, I’m building an overhang just like that at Lowry Beer Garden; it’s huge, it’s beautiful with wooden beams, and it just looks like a great place to throw a party.  If Colorado were a rainier state, it would be nice to sit under that immense span and listen to the rain pitter-patter on the roof as one stays warm and dry underneath with a finely-crafted beer in hand.  But, Colorado is pretty darn dry so the aforementioned situation will be a rare occurrence.

We entered under a bold and sturdy gateway, showed our IDs, and stepped into an open expanse populated with picnic, patio, and ping pong tables.  Before we could enter, though, my brother had to put the kids’ stroller back into the car as it was considered a fire escape impediment.  This didn’t make much sense to me because, hey, we’re outside; the only thing keeping us in the beer garden is a waist-high decorative chain.  If a fire comes ripping through this joint, I’m not lining up single file and heading out the front gate—there’s three completely open sides to this square.  I’m hoppin’ the nearest chain and getting the hell out of there.  The law’s the law, though, and Lowry Beer Garden has to follow the rules even when they don’t make sense. 

I ordered the Dortmunder from Copper Kettle Brewing Company and took a look at the food menu.  The choices are essentially limited to brats, burgers, and snacks (including one big-ass pretzel) but there are many choices within those two categories and they’re all pretty much awesome.  I had a burger with chili and a fried egg that made my eyes roll back into my head when I bit into it.  I’m looking forward to the elk and jalapeno brat on my next visit.  A heads up to the newcomer: a server will take your beer order and bring it to you at your table but you have to go up to the counter to order and pick up food. 

Lowry Beer Garden is not a brewery but it supports Denver’s status as craft beer capital not by making its own beer but by providing a stellar environment in which to imbibe fine beers from Colorado, the U.S., and the world.  Plus, it encourages communal drinking.  When we went it wasn’t too crowded but I can only imagine how many new drinking buddies one could make on a busy night or—good Lord—during Oktoberfest.

  

When the weather’s nice, head out to the Lowry Beer Garden and soak up some sun as beer soaks into you.  When the weather’s not so nice, still, head out to the Lowry Beer Garden and find a seat under that big, curved overhang.  Anytime you want a porch beer brought to the extreme, Lowry Beer Garden’s got the ticket.  Check them out next time you’re in the neighborhood.

Prost!

Chris   

I'm building this in my backyard as soon as I win the lottery

Going Big with Small Breweries

America is the land of big.  Down South we have big hair, in the Northeast we have big mouths, and on the West Coast we got big personalities.  We have big cars, big houses, big egos, and, as any nutritionist can attest, big asses.  We give our natural wonders big names: Grand Canyon, Giant Sequoias, Mammoth Cave, and, here in Colorado, Mt. Massive.  We’re so infatuated with big that we use it even when it’s contradictory: Battle of Little Bighorn, Little Big Man, Biggie Smalls.  So ingrained are we with the word big, in fact, that we call decidedly small things big such as Broomfield’s tiniest, newest, and only non-chain brewery—Big Choice Brewing.

Perhaps I’m missing the point, though.  True, Big Choice’s taproom is miniscule and all of their brewing equipment might possibly fit in my garage but what it lacks in physical prominence it more than makes up for in big flavor.

When looking for Big Choice Brewing, look hard; it’s not in the most obvious location.  From the direction Nicole and I were coming, the only indication that we were on the right path was a simple, black-and-white sign that said in bold letters Brewery—nothing more, nothing less.  Of course, all you need is half a brain to know that if you’re in Broomfield, at a brewery, and the words C.B.& Potts or Gordon Biersch are nowhere to be seen then you’re at Big Choice.  Just channel your inner Sherlock Holmes and deduce a thing or two.

We had ourselves a seat and brewer Nathaniel Miller served us a taster tray consisting of Saison (5.1% ABV, 21.4 IBU), Poblano Stout (5.7% ABV, 13.9 IBU), Type III IPA (6.3% ABV, 48.2 IBU), and Disconnected Red Ale (6.7% ABV, 84.5 IBU).

Left to right: Saison, Poblano Stout, Type III, and Disconnected

 Saison is a copper penny-colored beer with a light, sweet, and quintessentially Belgian aroma full of spice and fruit wafts.  A citrusy orange flavor accompanied by a touch of tartness completes this refreshing brew.

My favorite of the four was undoubtedly the Poblano Stout because it featured just enough weirdness to make the drinking experience unique but not totally off-the wall.  This black-with-tan-highlights stout smells of roasted peppers and roasted malts and tastes like a sweet, mild coffee garnished with poblano pepper.

Type III is a mild-mannered IPA.  With 48.2 IBUs, it’s certainly not the bitterest IPA on the market but methinks that craft beer trends are shifting away from palate-wrecking bitter beers to beers with just enough bite to keep you on your toes.  The color of Type III can be described as brassy while the aroma possesses some hop aroma albeit quite faint.  More dominate scents include a certain citrusy and sugary character that—if one may stretch to make a connection—isn’t unlike the smell of a margarita.  That citrus quality comes through in the flavor, too, along with a creaminess that reminded me of an orange Popsicle.  Type III finishes dry.   

The murky, rust-colored Disconnected turned-out to be the bitterest beer of the lot.  The aroma doesn’t give away much—the power of the hops on the nose is as strong in Disconnected as it is in Type III (which is to say, not very powerful at all).  Even during the tasting of Disconnected, the hops aren’t a wallop as the malts do much to balance out the bitterness.  There is, however, a lingering aftertaste in the back of the tongue and mouth that ought to satisfy the hophead in your life. 

Big Choice doesn’t serve food beyond a bowl of pretzels but there is a Jimmy John’s located very close by.  I didn’t actually see the Jimmy John’s with my own eyes but I know it was nearby because Big Choice times deliveries and posts their personal record on the chalkboard behind the bar.  I believe the standing record is a little under four minutes held by a driver named Anthony.  We were there when a customer called for a sandwich and the delivery girl brought it in about nine minutes.  What’s the matter?  You draggin’ an anchor behind that delivery truck?  Nine minutes!  You bring much shame upon the Jimmy John’s name.

Before we left I peeked in at the upstairs seating area.  The main bar area was pretty busy but I kind of wished it were busier so that we had to sit upstairs; with floor-to-ceiling windows, wood floors, high-top tables, a sofa, and a window overlooking the brewing space, it’s a swanky lounge in the middle of industrial Broomfield.  You know those commercials that feature hip, hot 20-somethings living it up at a party?  They’re usually selling big, domestic beer or vodka or a fragrance or whatever else yuppies are into.  Well, this looked like a space where they might film such a commercial except it was higher on the hip meter and lower on the douche meter.  It’s a room in which I, myself, would like to throw a small party.

I took a quick glance at the brewing operation, Nathaniel chased me down to give us the souvenir pint glass we forgot on the bar, we headed over to the local C.B. & Potts for some Geeks Who Drink pub quiz action, and then called it a night.

In the world of craft beer, the Colorado consumer has many choices and almost any choice one makes in this regard ends up being a wise decision.  That’s where Big choice got it wrong—it’s not a “big choice” at all.  A “big choice” implies that there’s a sense of risk involved, that the decision did not come easily.  In my opinion, choosing to go to a Colorado craft brewery is no big choice—it’s a simple decision because 99.9999% of the time the craft brewery you choose is great; no exceptions made for Big Choice. 

Welcome to the Colorado family of beer, Big Choice, and thank you for filling the craft beer wasteland that once existed between the oases of Denver and Boulder.

Prost!

Chris

The brewing operation as seen from the upper-room

Now that school’s out for summer (Alice Cooper is stuck in my head thanks to my co-worker having played that song more than a few times) I can focus on more important things—like visiting Colorado breweries. When I suggested to Chris that we go to trivia, the wheels I his head started rolling, figuring out how we could include a brewery trip in the plan.  It turned out to be a good plan.

Sampling the beers at Big Choice was a relaxing way to end my last day which consisted mainly of cleaning my classroom. We were able to talk to the brewer and learn a little bit more about how some of the beers came to be and his experiences in opening a brewery.

Chris’ favorite beer, the Poblano Stout, was an accidental occurrence.  Nathaniel’s wife wanted him to recreate an oatmeal stout that she had at Great American Beer Festival but there was a problem: she didn’t know which brewery it came from. When Nathaniel’s oatmeal stout didn’t turn out as planned, they divided the batch in half, finished one half with raspberries, and finished the other half with poblano peppers that had been roasted and de-seeded. The result was a beer that sold out in just a few days (as well as the raspberry stout which was also a hit having sold out in about three weeks). I like the creativity in the beer selection. Next time I'm in Broomfield I’ll see what Big Choice has on tap.

Nicole

Vine Street Revisited

Ah, nostalgia!  The good old days.  Way back when.  The days of yore.  When men were men and women had some modesty, dadgummit!   When a loaf of bread cost a nickel and the schoolmarm wouldn’t think twice ‘bout upsidin’ your head for sass-mouthin’.  We spent our summers down by the crick fishin’ for crawdads and canoodling with our best gals.  Oh, you whippersnappers can’t imagine it what with your MTV and Pac-Man video games.  Why, it was way back in late April of two-aught-twelve when Nicole and I skedaddled down to Vine Street Pub & Brewery for the big hootenanny celebrating the new brewing system.  This past Thursday there was a blast-from-the-past as we had the opportunity to take a private tour of the brewing facility with Denver off the Wagon V.I.P.s PJ and Bess and Vine Street brewstaff John and Paul.

Pre-tour libation: Addiction Coffee Imperial Stout

Full disclosure: a lot of information was put into this woefully inferior brain of mine during the tour and it happened a few days ago because, contrary to my nature, I’ve procrastinated in writing this post.  Plus, the staff was quite generous with their complimentary pours.  For these reasons, I think it is best to forgo my usual, chronological narrative and instead rely on a bulleted list of the bits of information that stuck with me.

●What’s with the delay?  Vine Street’s been around for a few years but only now they’re brewing on-site?  It all stemmed from some very convoluted zoning laws that I didn’t quite understand.  I do know, however, that they had to buy up a lot of other buildings on the block including an old lady’s Victorian house which I think would make for a great addition to the tap room—a cozy, home-y feel much like the drinking space at Golden City Brewery or Yak and Yeti Restaurant & Brewery.  For now, though, it’ll remain largely unused (except during Great American Beer Festival when it’ll serve as a place for weary brewers to crash for the night). 

●The “new” brewing equipment actually came from a Cleveland-area Rock Bottom that was going out of business.  In similar recycling fashion, their overly-industrious mill was saved from the Flying Dog Brewery before they up and left for Maryland.  This contraption may be more heavy duty than a Mack truck but it’s a piece of Colorado beer history that Vine Street rightfully wants to preserve. 

●Before Vine Street existed, the space belonged to a dark and dingy dive bar called the Rhino Room: windows were scarce and the feeling that, at any moment, you would be taken out back and beaten within an inch of your life by crackheads and prostitutes was high.  Vine Street added many of the windows that exist now, they lowered the floor (and added drainage) to accommodate the brew kettles and fermenters, and they pushed up the ceiling to make room for overhead windows.

●We stepped inside the cold storage room where we were gifted a bottle of orange saison.  Can't wait to get a piece of that.

●This new brewery is the biggest of the Mountain Sun family and will be the flagship similar to how Breckenridge Brewery grew out of its original location and had to move a sizeable chunk of the brewing operation to Denver (and then out-of-state thanks to some jerkwad politicians).  Unfortunately, as I mentioned in the last post talking about Vine Street, this personal tour does not contribute to Nicole and I’s list of visited Colorado breweries because it was not the first in the Mountain Sun family—being the biggest only counts for so much.

●Time for a soapbox moment.  I asked about Vine Street’s commitment to experimental brewing and they replied that part of the reason for the expansion was, in fact, to have the time and space to devote to off-kilter concoctions.  This made me a very happy beer geek for I am always pushing for the next new thing in beer.  There are some who say that experimental beers are a fad and that the American beer geek will eventually come full-circle and rely solely (or, mostly) on simple, traditional recipes.  Nuts to that!  Do you know where you go for a traditional beer?  Germany.  England.  Belgium.  You go to those places because their identity is tied-in with beer culture; they’ve made a name for themselves by brewing and perfecting specific types of beer over the centuries. 

Flying Dog's old grain mill

But what of America—a country only two-centuries-plus-change old?  We have no traditional beers because we haven’t had the time to develop them and I’ll be damned if our “traditional” beers turn out to be clones from other countries.  This is America—the land of ballsy innovators not timid copycats (but, if we do copy something you can be sure we’ll claim to be the first and defend that claim to the death or until the opposing party gets tired of our bullheadedness and gives up).  We can’t just brew a simple Pilsner or pale ale and call it “an American tradition”—another country already claims it as their tradition. 

I’ve spoken too soon, I fear; America does have a traditional beer: experimental beers.  We define ourselves by flouting definition.  We limit ourselves to the limitless.  Every edible morsel on this planet belongs in the American brewer’s recipe book.  I don’t care if a beer brewed with bacon and maple was considered the worst beer of 2011, I’m just glad somebody had the guts to do it.  Sure, there are failures in experimentation—it comes with the territory—but if there was one success for every 100 bombs I’d still encourage our brewers to stay the course.  We, as a nation, are bold, brash, and creative and our beers ought to reflect our personality.  By all means, keep brewing simple beers because we all need something familiar from time to time and nobody likes to pay import prices but I hope that we never lose that experimental edge.  With that, I say “kudos” to Vine Street for being true American heroes (where beer is concerned, anyway).

A very big thank you to the folks at Vine Street for having us over to talk beer.  Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll keep drinking it.

Prost!

Chris 

Your brew paddle is a kayak paddle? How Colorado of you.

Beer Not in Colorado: Homecoming II--Electric Boogaloo (Pt. 2)

This is a continuation of the previous post.  If you would like to read Part One of Nicole and I’s 2012 Indianapolis beer adventures, click here.  If you would like to read about last year’s journey into Indy beer, click here.

After visiting Bier Brewery, we headed south towards Flat 12 Bierwerks but made a pit stop at Sun King Brewery.  We’d been to Sun King before but it’s a shame to pass on their beer if you’re in the neighborhood.  Plus, Nicole loves their shirts and wanted to pick up another.

Sun King's taproom

While there I sipped on the classics like Osiris and Wee Mac but also had the opportunity to drink tasters of seasonal beers like Naptown Brown, Cow Bell Milk Porter, and Indiana Landmarks Wit.  Again, like at Bier, the tasters were quite small so it’s hard to write a review as it’s near impossible to get a good read on flavor and aroma.   

  

The beers were, as always, tasty but my beer geek senses started to tingle when I was called over to the little circle of conversation that consisted of my dad, my aunt Suzy, and a Sun King employee that looked suspiciously like Judah Friedlander’s skinnier doppelganger.  Once I arrived the conversation led to Chaka, the collaboration beer between Sun King and Oskar Blues Brewery.  Chaka had yet to be released to the public at that point but—like a sci-fi geek that’s just caught a 20 second glimpse of Star Wars: Episode VI – How Yoda Got His Groove Back—I had the honor of beholding the blue-and-orange, re-sealable majesties that are the Sun King Chaka cans.  For the uninformed, Chaka is or will be available in both Colorado and Indiana and the beer is the same no matter which state you buy it in but the cans have different logos depending on location.  I’ll get the Colorado cans but I need you, Hoosier friends, to get me the Indiana version for my collection.  Or, remind my mom to get them for me.

We gawked at Sun King’s numerous Great American Beer Festival medals, Nicole bought her shirt (as well as a new Indiana Drinking Team shirt for me which, you may recall from a previous post, was taken from me at a Hops & Pie event; I did have it replaced but the blue was not the same blue as the Indiana state flag which it should have been—now I have a shirt in the true blue), and we headed out for Flat 12 in the Holy Cross neighborhood. 

Flat 12 is pretty much everything I look for in a taproom: exposed brick walls, exposed wooden rafters, big, sliding meat locker doors, and splashes of color in form of paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and purple wheelchairs made from old shopping carts.  It’s a brewery that emits a sense of industrialization while still maintaining a casual, communal feel.  Plus, the giant wooden deck with corrugated steel accents is something I want in my backyard by yesterday.

I had read in Draft Magazine that Flat 12 was known for their porter variations so it seemed a shame to get anything else.  I ordered the Tangerine Porter (5.5% ABV) which, while very good, didn’t have much in the way of the titular fruit.  I suppose the barely-there fruitiness makes sense since the headbrewer “doesn’t like overt flavors and styles.  He likes well orchestrated subtlety.”  I disagree with this philosophy in many regards—I like strong flavor in my beer.  Go all in, I say, but to each their own.  It’s a good porter at any rate, just not really a tangerine porter.

Regardless of the quality of the beer and of the brewery’s positive porter reputation, it was probably a mistake to order a dark, heavy beer since we were drinking on the deck and sweating like Oprah at a ham sandwich factory.  Life-long Coloradoans just can’t imagine how sticky and wet you can get by simply sitting outside in Indiana springtime.  It was weather that called for a lighter, crisper beer than the one I was drinking.

 

The next stop took us to the Fountain Square neighborhood; an area best described through comparisons to Denver’s RiverNorth (RiNo) neighborhood or LoDo 20 years ago: gritty but tragically hip and undergoing a renaissance.  Like the mentioned Denver ‘hoods, Fountain Square owes some of its revitalization to craft beer—namely, Fountain Square Brewing Co. 

I have a number of points to make about the Fountain Square taproom and I’ll start with what’s praiseworthy.  First, I love the corrugated scrap metal ceiling—very cool, very edgy.  The open spaces, couches, and metal-and-cinder-block work on the bar where also a nice touch.  There was, however, one aspect of the space that really irked me—the artwork screamed, “I’m trying too hard to be cool!”  I liked the painted logos of the beers on tap; they were funky, psychedelic, and worthy of any man-cave.  The rest, though, was faux-rebellious; I hate to be so Internet-hip but it  has Condescending Wonka meme written all over it: "Oh, you have an American flag made of tampons hanging in your taproom? You must be so counterculture."

The same can be said for the out-of-focus picture depicting what appeared to be a certain oral act (if it’s not a certain oral act and I’m mistaken then Freudian psychology would have much to say about me and this assumption).  Give it a rest, Fountain Square; too many people erroneously lump the unpretentious craft beer culture with the pricks of the hipster movement and your overly trendy art isn’t doing anything to change their minds.  But, to be fair, I did giggle at this misogynistic piece of work found below:

 

You tell me what's going on here

On a positive note, the beer at Fountain Square is quite nice.  I forget the name of it and said name isn’t on the website but I had the pale ale.  I’d describe it as an Anglo-American pale ale—it’s mildly bitter like an English pale ale but the presence of citrus hops makes it an all-American.

Pale Ale

After Fountain Square, we caught some minor league action at Victory Field where the Indianapolis Indians defeated the Louisville Bats (I’m guessing the Bats were in town due to the fact that Louisville was likely a cluster due to Derby-goers).  More importantly, I got a taste of Sun King’s Victory Lager—a special brew made for the Indians.  I’d describe it much the way I’d describe Genuine Cooter from Bier: redneck beer made for the craft-minded.  It’s simple, straightforward, and a great drink for watching the game but made to a higher-standard than typical ballpark fare.

That pretty much summed up the beer portion of our Indy trip.  We also visited the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis (bigger and cooler than most adult museums) where I must have sounded like a nostalgic old man to Nicole: “When I was a boy, they used to have a mummy here.  That whole front area we walked through?  That’s new.  Hey, where’s that T. Rex statue they used to have outside?  I used to love that thing.”

Go, Indians, go!

Look at this ballpark line-up; the MLB stadiums could learn a thing or two from the little guys

We’ll be back for the Beer Bloggers Conference, Indy, and I can’t wait to get back.  You’re an under-the-radar beer Mecca and more people will realize this in time.  Until then, keep churning out that liquid gold.

Follow Beer in Colorado on Facebook and on Twitter @BeerInColorado.

Prost!

Chris

The humidity hung around just long enough to cause people to pass out during the race and make it almost unbearable to sit on the patio at Flat 12. As Chris sipped his porter in 80 degree weather, I enjoyed people-watching which included a hipster dude wandering around in some incredibly short shorts that made the middle school teacher in me want to tell him to call home for a change of clothes. I also noticed the meat market across the street (the beef and poultry kind, not the Thunder from Down Under kind) which reminded me that I needed to find a local market when I got home. My students are reading the Omnivore’s Dilemma which has me thinking 24/7 about what goes into our food. Does organic beer exist? There has to be a market for that, right [Indeed!  Boulder’s own Asher Brewing Company ~ Chris]?

The drive from Flat 12 to Fountain Square Brewing Co. revealed a neighborhood that looks like it has stories to tell. I don’t know why but old theater marquis fascinate me and this neighborhood was rife with them. When we got to Fountain Square Brewing Co., I was relieved to feel the air conditioning. As I sunk into the couch, I did a double take at the American flag that hung in front of me. It was made with some non-traditional materials which made me wonder how someone even conceived of using feminine hygiene products in making a flag. I did like the painting that used the periodic table to spell out the name of the brewery.  That’s the science geek in me.

Luckily, the humidity moved on so that we could enjoy a pleasant night at the ballpark. We watched the Indianapolis Indians take on the Louisville Bats. This was probably the highlight of my trip. I love baseball and enjoy the opportunity to visit different ballparks. Even though this was a minor league game, it was still a fun experience.

Nicole

And here's a bunch of pictures I couldn't fit anywhere else:

I don't know where this is but I want go there

I'm pretty sure that's in the Bible

If you recognize this, you attended an Indiana middle school and went on at least one field trip

More impressive than the blue bear at the Denver Convention Center

Chihuly art at the Children's Museum

Underneath Chihuly

At the head of the Indianapolis canal system

Make new friends...

...but keep the old (stay classy, Indianapolis)