The Beer Chronicles, Day 11 - Cali in Our Rearview

Geocache Early, Drink Later

Patton Monument

It was an unwritten rule on our journey that we would walk at least three miles a day.  The reasons should be obvious: it's very easy with this much beer drinking to gain weight and that's the last thing that either one of us wanted.  The health issues aside, gaining weight makes you more sluggish, less capable of travel, and generally goes a long way to making life more miserable.  I say this as someone who has been overweight most of his life but now that I'm at least at a relatively stable weight, a heavy beer habit can weigh heavily on that stability without adequate exercise.  My sis felt similarly so we resolved to get our exercise in early today, well before the relentless heat of desert would take its toll.

Tank Cemetery

To that end, I planned out a few well-reasoned stops in California, one at Chiriaco Summit and the other at Desert.  Both had nice little hikes to remote geocaches; plus we would arrive at both early in the morning, thus reducing the heat issue.  The first stop, Chiriaco Summit, was roughly 1800 feet above the Coachella Valley floor at Sea Level, is a strange blip in the road along I-10, most famous for its doting monument/museum to that craziest of WWII generals, George S. Patton.  The geocache here, a virtual aptly dedicated to veterans, was followed by a hike into the desert behind the museum, where we passed the "tank cemetery" into the open desert.  Strangely, there were also people camping in disheveled old trailers out here, away from any civilization of note.  Then again, maybe that was the point.

Steve's Self Memorial

After securing the cache and stopping for coffee at the nearby gas station/convenience store, we moved on to our next stop, the near ghost town Desert Center, appropriate named as it lies approximately halfway between Blythe on the Colorado River to the east and Palm Springs to the west. Here we took a longer hike out to an outcropping of rocks about a mile from parking, where a strange monument to a man named Steve had been erected, apparently by himself. The area, clearly a former mining spot, was apparently favorited by rock climbers and partiers alike given the stashes of water and empty beer cans that we found.  As to the fate of Steve, I'll let your imagination run wild. Personally, I imagine Steve living out his days a hermit, huddled in one of the main caves that are formed out these rocks, living on lizards, scorpions and the occasional beer that friendly passersby throw his way.  Or maybe it was all a lark, a self-referential joke played by "Steve" on his fellow miners.  The mystery remains.


On Towards Phoenix
After a brief stop in Blythe for caffeine, we high-tailed across the western Arizona desert into Phoenix, an urban sprawl of heat... And misery.  Today, the temperature was a subnormal 99 degrees and traffic was mercifully light.  I have to admit: I find it hard to warm up to Phoenix, despite the obvious irony of that statement given the usual temperatures here.  It's always struck me as a bit like Los Angeles; massive urban sprawl (albeit better planned since it's so much younger), smog, and ribbons of tarmac leading everywhere.  The freeway is king in Phoenix and while there are signs of progress regarding mass transit (both LA and Phoenix now have limited light rail service which is expanding yearly), my feeling is that Phoenix is basically LA without the good weather.  That said, I am quite fond of finding "diamonds in the rough", those little gems that make every city worth going to.  The ultimate example of this is El Paso, Texas, a scant 40 miles from my home and frequently the butt of many jokes about its squalid appearance, its poverty, and its general lack of good looks, a perception which is true if all you ever do is drive I10 to the airport and back.  But El Paso is a city of many secret delights- which I will elaborate on in a future blog entry- after the latest brewpub there, El Paso Brewing Company opens their doors later this summer.

OHSO's Huge Bar

Phoenix is also a place of hidden gems, which I have had the fortune to discover over the years. There's the magnificently ostentatious Chase Field, where the Arizona Diamondbacks make their home and which I had the pleasure of visiting multiple times during their one and only World Series year 2001. There's the South Mill Ave area of Tempe near Arizona State University, which has one of the greatest concentrations of nightlife west of the Mississippi (even the hair stylists stay open until midnight!). There's the Mesa Arts Center, a beautiful entertainment complex that attracts top notch talent from around the world. Furthermore, Main Street Mesa is home to the easternmost branch of the local light rail, which extends all the way into downtown Phoenix and beyond (NOTE:  as of April 2016, the Valley Metro Light Rail extends all the way to 19th Ave north of downtown).  Finally, Desert Eagle Brewing Company brews up fabulous pints just a couple short blocks down from the Arts Center.

But today's hidden gem was found a scant distance from the upscale community of Scottsdale, in north Phoenix.  Tucked away in an unassuming little strip of businesses, OHSO Brewing Company is a slice of beer heaven in the ravaging heat of the valley.  Obviously started by a group of home brewers, this place serves up a cornucopia of excellent brews and some pretty great food as well.

Experimentation is the rule of the day here, not surprising considering their humble origins. Sure, they have some "normal" beers, such as a rather ordinary American lager, but it is in the realm of seemingly average varieties that they stand out.  A great example of this is their Strawberry IPA, where the strawberries subtly balance a huge hop finish.  In a similar vein is their amber called Cold Wet Nose, which has a distinctive oaked honey palate.  Even more bizarre is their so-called blonde ale, a bizarre concoction rightly called a Popsicle Blonde, as the frozen confection is the first thing that hits your taste buds with this one.  Even their pale ale isn't exactly out of the brewers book of pale ales 101; called the OHSO Grovey, this lightly hopped ale screams orange and cream, making it the alcoholic equivalent of one of those dreamsicles we used to devour as kids.

Fermentation at work - OHSO Nano Brewery

My favorites at OHSO were their heavier beers, though, including an Imperial Stout called Dis is PB&J, an apt name for a beer that oozes with peanut butter and strawberry goodness.  Even the finish reminded me more of a wheat beer, with its distinct biscuity quality.  Finally, if you want to get your buzz on in both alcohol and coffee directions, I recommend trying their Morning Brew, a coffee infused cream ale that tastes like a carbonated latte that could easily sit in for your usual cup of jo. The fact that I include the latter cream ale as a heavier beer speaks about the fact that this place is all about experimentation, causing a visual dissonance to the eyes even as we quaff a coffee-like beer that's as clear as lager.

Magic Happening - OHSO Nano Brewery

As I've mentioned before, I frequently like to sit at the bar of a brewpub, striking up conversations with fellow beer connoisseurs and friendly servers. OHSO took this sort of thing into new realms, as our lovely server decided that we needed to meet the resident brewmaster, Matt Flanagan. He was more than happy to meet someone who was as fascinated by beer as he was so he took me on a private tour of the fermentation area, as well as the storehouse where they kept their hops, grains, and other secret ingredients. I saw how dry hopping worked, as he opened up one of the small fermentation tanks to watch the process taking place. Let me tell you; that moldy mess I witnessed is hardly the sublime beverage we would eventually try, likely turning off would-be beer drinkers with both looks and pungency. But not me; the very process of brewing is so interesting that even the sight of hops molding on the top of fermenting ale couldn't stop me wanting to learn more. Even the temperature of the room- barely above freezing it seemed- did not deter me from wanting to see and learn more.

But all good things must come to a close so after our wonderful tour and an offer to come back and take a class on brewing (net cost $0, after the $50 credit for beer at the pub that defers the cost of the course), we set off for our final destination on our beer cruise, the place it all started, Tucson. Both of us were tired from our long journey so the plan was to hit one and only one brewpub before settling into our hotel room and ordering a pizza.  So how do you choose?  Of course, we could have gone back to one of the others we'd tried or venture into downtown in search of craft beer and distilled beverages but instead we opted for one I'd heard about, perhaps only in legend as it turns out.  Our Garmin took us to the alleged address of Iron John's Brewing Company, where we found ourselves in a residential neighborhood, clearly not the location of the brewery. Fortunately, Google Maps had a far more accurate bead on this place. But did it? Really? This location looked more like a really run down strip of businesses, the kind of place that might be home to locksmiths, bad Chinese restaurants, or ancient dentists.  But it was there, barely visible from the frontage, the tiny brewery that would turn out to create some of the most incredible beer I've ever had, certainly the best that Arizona had to offer.

The tasting room barely qualified as one, with a bar that sat maybe four or five and a few very small tables. Packed to the hilt, I'd say this place could seat 20, maybe 24 people, tops. But none of that mattered once we tasted their beer, each one better than the one before.  Or maybe not. During our flight, my sis and I went back and forth between them, unable to decide which was better than the others. Of course, there was no need to decide really.  We could enjoy them all and even take most home as Iron John's makes a point of bottling most of their beers, something that was lacking in virtually every other place we visited on this trip.  There was the Hey Momo, a slightly tart, almost sour peach wheat ale, a type of beer that I am seldom fond of.  In the hands of this master brewer, it was a nectar of the gods. Their pale ale, Old Pueblo, was satisfyingly thirst quenching with just a hint of hops on the finish. Then came their series of IPA, each one better than the one before.  My favorite, the Cisco, was a perfectly melded blend of Simcoe, Citra, and Amarillo hops, fermented with a European yeast, giving this one tremendous balance and an almost champagne fizziness to it as well as a distinct stone fruit quality. The follow up to this was their Imperial IPA called Pedro, a derangement of the Cisco at its feral and dirty best. And to end our fun here was a delightfully robust porter called Presta, which was an absolutely luscious finish to our tasting here.

We bought bottles, plenty of them, saving the final delight to enjoy with our pizza back at the hotel. Dubbed Anno Segundo, this Belgian style quadrupel was dessert in brew form, with caramel, brown sugar, dark fruit, rum raisin ice cream, and even smokey Islay Scotch Whiskey swirling in our mouths, a complex palate of flavors.  None of this surprised me when I learned that this one was actually aged in Scotch whiskey barrels before bottling, lending it a special quality that served as a fitting conclusion to our May booze cruise.

Pizza and craft beer, a perfect end to a wonderful journey. But there will be many more to come.  On July 1st, I leave for a massive, five week road trip through 12 states and one Canadian province, a journey that will be chronicled here. There will be brewpubs galore, some geocaching, meeting family & friends and hopefully finding a few new friends along the way, such as the home brewer I met at Iron John's on our last night out, a man who shares the same passion for beer than I do.  As we mutually follow each other now on Twitter, it reminds me of fact that there is so much out there to explore, so many journeys to take and craft beer encompasses that spirit of adventure.  To paraphrase Jack Maxwell, the Booze Traveler himself, after a few drinks with a stranger, the whole world opens up before your eyes and you experience their world, one glass at a time.

Stay tuned for more.  In future entries, I'll talk about the state of craft beer in El Paso and Las Cruces, I'll write about pub crawls through Santa Fe and Missoula, dive into the massive craft beer scene in the deeply bipolar world of Colorado Springs, explore the beer meccas of Denver, Portland and Seattle and find some hidden gems in some unlikely places like the Dakotas and small town Washington & British Columbia.  Watch for it; it's going to be quite a ride.

Here's to the Beer Chronicles, signing off.

The Beer Chronicles, Day 10 - Amazing Beer, Hellish Traffic

All Good Things
There is an inevitability to returning home, the realization that adventure will soon turn back to mundane, that the unknown will transform to the familiar.  Of course, that return also means seeing loved ones- both human and canine- and so the upside becomes apparent once the realization that adventure is finite turns to acceptance.

And so my mood on the morning we left San Luis Obispo was one of resignation, knowing that in two days time, I would return to my old haunts in New Mexico, back to the heat, back from the amazingly creative beers of California.  They say that California is the cultural trendsetter for the rest of the nation and it seems that the world of beer is no exception.  From remarkable barrel-aged elixirs to sours that will curl your toes to high ABV bombshells that will set your head spinning, California is truly one of the great innovative spots for beer today.  This is not to say that New Mexico has bad beer... quite the contrary.  For example, the Scaletipper IPA from Bosque Brewing Company in Albuquerque is second to none as far as I'm concerned.  But I was still sad to leave so much amazing brews behind.

With that thought in mind, my sis and I were resolved to return to Coachella Valley Brewing Company again, hoping to making a quick brewpub stop in Buellton for lunch and flights, and then power through the LA area to make it out to the Coachella by closing time at 6:00 pm on a Sunday.  I thought our odds were good: most of the time I've driven through LA, Sunday seemed like a pretty good day to do it and avoid most of the traffic issues that are so pervasive in the area.

I was wrong.  Very very very wrong...

Buellton

Barrelworks Facility - Firestone Walker Buellton Taproom

The tiny little village of Buellton hasn't changed much since I lived there as a wee lad. It's population has remained pretty steady at around 5000 souls and Pea Soup Anderson's still sits right of the 101, serving up mediocre food to tourists who insist on coming to this little slice of faux Danish Americana.  What HAS changed Buellton is wine.  It sits at the beginning of the Santa Ynez wine trail that starts with Buellton on the 101, moves east to Solvang (or Danish Disneyland as I like to call it) and finally ends in the village of Santa Ynez itself.  From there are countless wineries, throughout the valley, specializing in Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays.  In fact, this has become the largest economic boast to northern Santa Barbara County since Sideways, the 2004 wine road trip buddy movie that really put the area on the map.  In fact, the Hitching Post II, a featured component of that film, sits right on Buellton's main drag CA246 which leads into Solvang, serving up expensive steaks and even more expensive bottles of wine to those willing to pay.

We were not and that's not why we stopped here anyway.  Our goal was beer and the newest place to open its doors on that front was a familiar face, a taproom to one of the Central Coasts boozy icons, Firestone Walker Brewery, who make their main home up in Paso Robles and who up until very recently also ran the Firestone Winery nearby.  But the taproom in Buellton is not just a facility of the larger business.

No, this is where they beer engineers work their magic at their remarkable Barrelworks warehouse, where barrel-aged delights take center stage. Approaching the doors just as they the business was opening at 11 am, it felt as if we were about to set foot straight into the Middle Ages, the wood & iron doors just a slightly intimidating reminder that we were not about to set foot into a typical taproom.

Where the magic happens at Barrelworks

The walk into the far more modern tasting room was a cavern of barrels, low lit and smelling deeply of oak, wine, and mold, an ancient room built for modern times.  We paused momentarily to take in the space, a place unlike any other we had experienced so far on this trip.  Of course, I remind myself as I write this that I've said that same thing a number of times during our journey, with uniqueness a quality that seems abundant in these halcyon days of craft beer experimentation and innovation. They say that times are getting worse, that the world is going to hell in a bucket, that we are losing our place in the world.  If the world of craft beer is any indicator, they couldn't be more wrong.

My understanding of the barrel aging process is pretty rudimentary but it works something like this: brewers create an ale in the traditional manner: mash mixed with liquor (aka hot water) in the mash thus resulting in wort, after which yeast is added to begin the fermentation process, after which you end up with ale.  Of course, hops and other flavorings are added either during the fermentation process or after as the beer is left to age, depending on what flavors the brewers wants to impart in their beer.  With barrel-aged beers, the process undergoes a secondary aging process in different barrels where the flavors of the wood are imparted to the ale a la wine barrels, with a secondary fermentation sometimes taking place.  In fact, barrel-aged beers are frequently aged in spent wine or hard liquor barrels like bourbon or tequila to give focus to the flavors of those libations.

Barrelworks Menu

Of course, none of this comes without a price so you can expect to pay considerably more for barrel-aged beers most of the time; the laborious nature of this brewing process necessarily requires an upcharge for the brews, a fact we were about to find out as we discovered the cost of tasting glasses of the barrel aged stuff were generally 50-75% higher than regular ales and divided into two major categories at Barrelworks, Wild Ales (ales that undergo a natural fermentation along with the one in the mash) as well as their strong ales (the barrel-aged big boys like stouts, porters and barleywines).  Since I was about to face LA traffic, we opted for mostly wild ales in our flight, largely because of their lower alcohol content.

Now *that's* an aging barrel

I should remind my readers: these are NOT daily sipping beers.  Drinking a barrel-aged brew compared to a regular ale is analogous to drinking an exclusive estate wine versus a table wine.  They are both enjoyable but one is meant to be savored not slugged, tasted rather than consumed with abandon.  A reminder of this separation was present at Barrelworks itself, it's rather small tasting room separated from the main Firestone Walker taproom & restaurant by a glass wall & door.  Of course, they allow you to take your barrel-aged marvels into the main taproom to enjoy for lunch but you have to pay for them separately.  So we did, grabbing a flight and heading into the main tasting room for lunch.

Alongside a marvelous fresh greens salad with pecorino cheese and grilled chicken, we enjoyed both a regular and nitro tapped brew called Lil' Opal, a saison aged in both American & French oak barrels. If this sounds a bit more like a wine than a beer, you may be on to something; the oak imparts an almost Chardonnay like quality to this dry and crisp brew, crisper on regular tap but with stronger vanilla characteristics on nitro.  Next up was their version of a Berliner Weisse called Bretta Weisse, a slightly sour delight that gives off strong oat and other cereal subtly.  Unlike most Berliner Weisse's, this is NOT a session drink though, coming in at about 4.9% ABV.  We then moved on to another wine-like saison, the La Piccolo Virtuosa, a beer they make in collaboration with a winery in Italy. Using spent sangiovese barrels for aging, this one definitely tastes of red wine with a bit of raisin thrown in for good measure, the latter of which I believe is a result of the aging process.  Next up was perhaps my favorite, a strange wild ale called Krieky Bones, which apparently starts as a Belgian style red ale and then gets aged in oak with sour cherries, a match made in brewers heaven!  Finally, we finished off with a monster of a beer, the 13.1% ABV Parabola.  A Russian Imperial Oatmeal Stout, aged in various bourbon barrels and then blended, this crazy heavy behemoth just bursts with flavor, starting with heavy doses of vanilla, molasses, burnt sugar, and oak.  Paired with a salad for lunch, this was a bit of a heavy way to end our visit here but certainly a memorable one, one which I intend to revisit in the near future.

Light at the End

Ritual Brewing Company Menu

I will save you the misery of the details of the next 6+ hours.  Suffice to say this.  Starting in Santa Barbara proper and extending all the way past Ontario, we were stuck in start and stop traffic for 130+ miles, so much so that our goal of making it to Coachella for a second time on this trip would evaporated into dust.  Instead, we resolved to find an interesting brewery somewhere, anywhere after we got past the nasty gridlock (And the cause?  Looky loo idiots gawking at the remnants of an accident that must have happened hours beforehand). A quick google maps search revealed just what we were looking for, the interestingly named Ritual Brewing Company in Redlands, about an hour from where we were staying for the night in Palm Desert.  As we drove there, I was imagining naked druids dancing around a mash tun, sacrificing sacred hops to the ancient spirits so I was slightly disappointed when we came across the archetypical California industrial park brewery, 30 minutes from closing!  Despite the initial disappointment, we were quickly rewarded by a large, lively, and thoroughly friendly place, the fermentation vats enormous monstrosities reaching nearly to the top of the corrugated metal ceiling above.  Vast industrial fans provided airflow to a facility that I'm pretty sure was not air conditioned otherwise, especially in this massive place.

Ritual Brewing Company - The Process Unfolds

So Cheryl and I worked on figuring out which of the many beers we would try in our flight, setting to work methodically through their vast selection.  We went with two flights, one concentrating on Belgian style brews and the other IPAs.  A standout amongst the heavier, Belgian style beers was an amusingly named beer called Fat Hot High West, a Manhattan-aged (yes, like the cocktail) barleywine that tasted exactly like a Manhattan, sweet vermouth, bitters, bourbon, and all.  But the real winners here were the IPAs, one better than the next. As I've mentioned many times, I enjoy places that try new things, that experiment with their beers.  Well, that was definitely the case with Ritual's skunky IPA called Art of Dankness, a hop heavy brew with a heavy dose of Humboldt County hops. This beer reminded me of a very simple fact:  hops and cannabis are actually quite closely related, both coming from a family of plants called the Cannabinaceae order.

Clearly, the clever brewers at Ritual were well aware of this connection as well, releasing this beer on April 20th at 4:20 pm.  And it's no wonder: I thought I was wandering through a grow house the second I smelled the heady aroma of this brew, its herbaceous fragrance reminding me all too well of graduate school.  The flavor was the same, strong cannabis sweetness and bitterness shining through with every swallow. Needless to say, I had to buy a bottle of this one.  

And so it was, after another excellent beer experience, we hobbled into our Palm Desert haunt for the evening, feasting once again on carnitas, and sank into sleep after the turmoil of LA traffic, looking forward to our final day out and the drive through Phoenix and Tucson, where we would sample some of the greatest beers of the journey and from the most unlikely of places.  Stay tuned!

The Beer Chronicles, Days 8 & 9 - Central Coast Suds In Abundance

May 20 Maintenance
Rule #1 when it comes to responsible road tripping.  Keep your car maintained.  The last thing you want is to break down because you forgot to get the oil changed. Or blow a tire because you didn't get them rotated and balanced.  You know, the mundane things that come with good car ownership.

One of the many BevMo offerings. 

And thus, we had to show that level of responsibility as our first action of the day, taking Guinevere to the local Toyota dealership for her 10k maintenance.  This gave us an hour to wander around and get our morning walk in, which was surprisingly chilly.  We wandered down to the nearby BevMo, the west coast's favorite booze "super store" to see what they had to offer.  Of course, we knew that we were unlikely to purchase anything, seeing as how our souvenir priority was locally bottled brewpub fare and mass-distributed beers just seemed too... mundane. Yes, that may come across as a snobby attitude to have but when there are so many good options at local places, big box stores just don't have the same appeal.

On a side note: the Toyota dealership in SLO is awesome!  They quickly (and with no cost to us!) completed our maintenance, well before we had time to wander over to the nearby Whole Foods so we were back on the road in no time.  Lunch was next on the list, largely to ensure that our future beer consumption would come at little cost to my inebriation.

Prohibition Pub

Upstairs at Barrelhouse Speakeasy

After a quick and tasty lunch in downtown- yes, we once again faced the dreaded Higuera traffic, this time wisely opting for metered street parking a few blocks away- we happened upon a new offering in downtown SLO.  Of course, from the outside it looked like an old-fashioned barber shop, transplanted straight from the 19200s, an intriguing motif for a craft brewery to say the least.  Turns out this fun little establishment was the Barrelhouse Speakeasy, an extension of the much larger Barrelhouse Brewery & Beer Gardens up in Paso Robles.  The theme of this place, an underground lair for clandestine beer drinkers hiding from the feds and their rigid enforcement of Prohibition, gave this downstairs establishment an air of cozy but naughty hedonism.  The lighting was set low and ambient, highlighting the "secret" nature of this off limits purveyor of forbidden libations.  In amongst the bare brick room of dark wood trim and beams were oil lamps, wall phones, bolt action rifles, bookshelves of ancient tomes, and other century-old decor, which helped complete the tenor of illegal fun.

Pulling pints at Barrelhouse Speakeasy

Fortunately, we were some of the very few reprobates here on a mid-afternoon Friday so we took our seats at the bar and proceeded to chat with our bartender, a hirsute 20something who was more than happy to wax poetical about spoliated barley water, one of my favorite pastimes.  Since Barrelhouse was tapping over twenty offerings on this day, we opted for two flights, the logic being that my lovely sis would take the brunt of the drinks so I could successfully drive us to join our hosts for dinner later. And taste we did, powering through 16 different beers, each better than the last.  While some of the more typical fare- such as the golden ales, milk stout, and such- were fine, it was the more exotic brews that really titillated my palate, starting with their amazing Rye IPA, a well-balanced hop fest that resembled a favorite pale ale of mine, the Devil's Ale from SanTan Brewing Company in Chandler, Arizona.

Prohibition era decor - Barrelhouse Speakeasy

But things got better from there, as Barrelhouse was tapping not one but FOUR different Berliner Weisses, each one better than the next. In no particular order, they had their regular, unflavored Weisse, slightly tart & infinitely sesssionable at only 3.2% ABV.  And that was the saving grace of all these weisses, each coming in at 3.2 so I could actually enjoy a bit more than usual and still remain upright.  Next up was the Tahitian Weisse, an infused wonder where ginger and pineapple balanced the sour very nicely.  Not to be outdone, the tart sweetness of Pomegranate graced the next Berliner Weisse, the fruit taking the edge off the natural sourness of the brew.  Finally, I thought I was strolling the rural paths of southern England with the next Weisse, an Elderflower-infused sour that just reeked of the English countryside in all the right ways.   And finally, not to be outdone by the magnificent sours on the menu, Barrelhouse was also tapping their staggering Curly Wolf, a Maple Vanilla Bourbon Barrel Aged Stout, on regular and nitro taps and both equally delicious.  At 9.4% ABV, this was a bit lighter than some of the more extreme beers we'd had on this trip and so much the better for it.  You could actually drink some of this without getting blotto.

While I have come to SLO for many years now, I never made it to one of downtown's beer institutions, the Creekside Brewing Company, which closed its doors last year before I had a chance to try it.  Fortunately, Barrelhouse Speakeasy is an magnificent heir to downtown's beer throne and should do well in a city where people appreciate eclecticism in all it's marvelous varieties.

Banging the Drum at My Local

It may seem odd to think that I have a local in a town that is 900 miles from home but Bang the Drum Brewery is just that kind of place.  I discovered it last year, rough four weeks after it opened its doors, and made a point of going there as often as possible during my two week stay in SLO last year.  It helps that it's a short half mile walk from where I stay, making it the perfect place to hangout if you want to get your drink on.  Now, that isn't always the case; a brewery actually has to make a decent pint and the space needs to be inviting as well.  Bang the Drum excels at both, most especially with their Adonis, an absolutely spectacular Strawberry Wheat Beer, the best of it's kind I've ever tasted.

Bang the Drum

Last year, this place had a bit of a rocky start: they had inadequate and oddly-sized glasses so you never knew what size of drink you would get when you ordered a beer.  Let's say you ordered an Adonis.  One time you might get a 12 oz pour, another a 16 oz, still another a 20 oz.  But you'd pay the same amount each time! Despite that strange and slightly off putting issue, I was taken by the shear goofiness of the place.  The taproom itself- a tiny shack with few tables and the smallest performance stage I've ever seen- was dwarfed by the enormous outdoor patio area, an uncovered garden of tables & chairs of varying sizes & shapes. Surrounding this al fresco tasting room were half walls, windows that separated open air with open air and an old attached shipping crate that had been converted into the brewery's restrooms.

Bang the Drum Patio

Fortunately for the guests here, the glass issue has been resolved this year and consistency has graced this place with a modicum of sanity; that's a good thing to balance how bonkers the actual setting is. While most breweries that don't have kitchens rely on food trucks to satisfy a patron's hunger, this place has a food tent, where a disheveled-looking owner grills up steaks, burgers and sausages with charred abandon. Games are common here; we couldn't help but notice a nearby group laughing themselves silly as they played the hilarious but very NSFW Cards Against Humanity while we tried our hand at a Jenga tower, all the while diving into an incredible golden stout called Surprise Me, coffee and chocolate notes defying its golden color.  All in all, Bang the Drum may not be the snazziest brewpub around nor do they have the best beer but as far as settings go, it's at the top of my list of places to visit, have a brew, and just relax.

May 21 The Forest & The Rock

Morro Rock from the Elfin Forest

After a much needed nights rest, we made our plans for the day.  My sister was intent on cruising out to Morro Bay, something I am seldom against.  Morro Bay is one of my very favorite beach towns, a stuck-in-time wonder where the crowds are seldom substantial and the weather usually cloudy. While the latter is not an attraction to most beachgoers- who prefer the sunnier climes of Pismo or Avila to the south- the cooler cloudy weather suits my hate-all-heat aesthetic.  So I decided we'd take the long way there, driving up Los Osos Valley Road to the even more rustic town of Los Osos and then cruising along the Morro Bay estuary and South Bay Blvd up to Morro Bay.  For me, this is one of the single greatest scenic drives of the Central Coast if not all of California, the parched hills to the east lined with trails and the estuary to the west- an undulating marsh of meandering streams that empty into Back Bay and the Morro Bay State Marine Reserve.

Morro Rock & Bay

Nested on the cliff overlooking this estuary is the aptly named Elfin Forest, a 90 acre state preserve of scrub oak and manzanita through which a boardwalk and dirt trails snake around, giving visitors ample opportunities to see the abundance of flora and fauna within the forest itself and down in the estuary below.  We roamed the forest, covering it's myriad of trails and the mile long boardwalk, my sister snapping more pictures with her iPhone than I thought possible.  We also managed to grab a few geocaches, placed since the last time I was here, even recruiting a little girl and her dad to help me find one.

Once satisfied that we had sufficiently explored the forest, we headed to Morro Bay for lunch, where I treated Cheryl to one of my all time favorite places, the poorly-named Taco Temple; while it sounds like a run-of-the-mill taqueria or Mexican food joint, what this place really does is serve amazing fresh fish and carnitas for the red meat lovers, all presented in what they laughably call a taco, a massive plate of fresh veggies, cheese, meat or fish, sauce, and garnish all laid on top of a two corn tortillas.  Trust me; this is a not a taco you can pick up and eat.  This is a knife and fork place only. And bring cash!  They don't take credit cards.  Don't be fooled by the seemingly high prices.  One taco is enough for two people and the burritos are outlandishly large.  It doesn't help that they have an all-you-can-eat salsa and chip bar that accompanies your order.

Libertine Brewpub - Morro Bay

Satisfied but not stuffed, it was time to walk, taking in about three miles along the strand that connects the Morro Bay waterfront to Morro Rock itself.  We managed to enjoy the antics of seals playing the bay and snag another geocache before thirst gripped us and we wandered down to the waterfront, where we happened upon Morro Bay's only craft brewery, the original Libertine Brewpub, the very same place that we soured ourselves up with the first night we came to SLO.  But this was no rustic warehouse of cask-aged sours; instead, this lively beach pub had a huge rotating tap of beers from around the country, along with a few house made sours.  Naturally, I revisited the fabulous Wild IPA they specialize in but otherwise drifted to other offerings, trending towards the dark to slake my sister's thirst for the black stuff.  We sampled Goleta's M. Special Brewing Company's lovely Dozer Special Brown, a satisfyingly hoppy ale, following by a foray into Heretic Brewing Company's Chocolate Hazelnut Porter, a slightly nutty take on stout's progenitor varietal. Finally, we went back to familiar territory with Bend, Oregon's most famous brewery, Deschutes, and their always pleasing Obsidian Stout on Nitro.

The Old Kid on the Block

With a bit of time to kill before meeting up with our hosts for a movie in downtown SLO, I decided to take my sis to one of the oldest kids on the block, the Central Coast Brewing Company, a mere 15 minute walk from the movie theater and one of the more rustic breweries around.  With a small bar, a few tables right amongst the fermentation vats, and an outdoor patio with seats that look out on the street below, this small craft brewery has been doing the Central Coast proud since 1998, making it the venerable master of the young craft beer scene.  Interestingly, I have found that some of the older craft breweries are quite set in their ways and as such, make beer that is less interesting and more mundane, far closer to the mass produced pap you'd see a frat parties.  Not so with Central Coast.  Their beer is top notch and since they were tapping 11 different brews today, we had to try all of them.

Central Coast Brewing Patio

Our tapper was an absolute sweetie, giving me a "professor" discount on account of the brewery's proximity to Cal-Poly and because we were actually nice and not demanding.  Along with a collection of excellent IPAs and Pale Ales- chef amongst them being the award-winning Lucky Day IPA and the beautifully rich Catch 23 Dark Cascadian Ale- my favorite from this place has to be their uniquely spiced Chai Ale, an ideal accompaniment to a curry or chicken tikka masala.  My sister, on the other hand, was taken by their excellent Stenner Creek Stout, an English style sweet stout made with flaked oats.  As this was the only beer they had canned or bottled (this place sells out fast!), we grabbed this as our souvenir.

Not completely satisfied that we'd had enough beer for the day (!!!), we were absolutely delighted to find out that not only did the movie theater have reserved seats, they also had beers on tap, including the awesomely well-balanced IPA from TapIt Brewery, a place we didn't manage to visit this time around as we ran out of time (and the ability to drink anymore for the day).  Let me tell you: Captain America is a fine movie but an even finer one with a great beer to enjoy while watching!

Next time, Day 10: where the good (some of the best beer) is balanced by the bad (the worst traffic). Stay tuned!

The Beer Chronicles, Day 7, Part 2 - SLO Town

Second Home
California is definitely like a second home to me.  I was born in Los Angeles, spent the first 12 years of my life living in six locations all over Southern California and the Central Coast, and have visited virtually every year- usually more than once- since graduating college. Back in the day, I would have said that San Diego was my "second home" in Cali, having worked there for six months in the early 90s and traveling their frequently to visit friends, go to concerts, and such.  But 25+ years and 2 million more people later, I can't say that anymore.  Los Angeles is a fascination but definitely not a second home. Ventura comes very close, with its laid back LA vibe but substantially less people.

But if I'm honest, San Luis Obispo is really where I'd call second home.  I've been there every year since 1996, sometimes more than once a year, and every time I find new things about the place that delight and amaze me.  At roughly half the size of my hometown of Las Cruces, it has a quiet, cool California feel, laid back but not too laid back, owing a substantial part of its character to Cal Poly, the university that breathes life into the place.  Of course, affluence abounds but not in the Santa Barbara, see-my-amazing-Spanish-hacienda way but emanating a more chill-to-the-bone atmosphere. There's a not-so-secret nude beach nearby, wineries galore, and a sense that things are just alright in SLO.  It's no wonder that SLOTown is the nickname; it describes the place to a tee.  So despite some of the inconvenient oddities of a town of 45,000 people- such as hideous parking in downtown and the stupidest street sign font this side of Comic Sans- it is a place that resonates with me.  And now they have beer... in abundance.

The craft beer seen has taken off over the last few years; prior to 2014, the only brewpubs in the area were the mediocre but fun SLOBrew and the excellent Central Coast Brewing Company, which opened its doors back in the 90s.  We'll discuss the latter in a future entry as we didn't visit there until Day 9.  Today it was all about new places and the amazing Farmer's Market.

A quick drive through the lovely Edna Valley, past fields of vines, and the SLO airport and we were knocking on our hosts doorstep, ready for an evening of fun!

Libertine Walk
The late afternoon was cool, perfect for the two mile walk into downtown for Farmer's.  My sis and I were eager to set out so we said goodbye to our hosts, who would drive down and meet us at the market later.  In fact, we had one big pitstop to make before hitting the market: Libertine Brewing Company.  This strange and satisfying pub opened it's doors at the beginning of 2016, having been established up in the Morro Bay for a few years now.  But it's in SLO where the real action takes place. See, this place specializes in making Wild Ales, Sours, and Saisons, a recent passion of mine.  And the brewery here in downtown SLO is where it all happens, the tasting room planted smack dab in the middle of their aging casks.  Apart from the taps, which gives it away as a beer place, this could pass for a rustic winery in Sonoma or Mendocino.  The smell of oak barrels permeates the place, giving it an ambience unlike any we had seen up to this point. And the seating matched the rustic nature: tables were spent barrels themselves, chairs mere simple wooden pillars that would find themselves quite at home in a monastery.

Sour Flight - Libertine Brewing Company

Let me be the first to admit: this place is not for everyone. You have to have a real taste for sour here, a flavor profile that left many of my companions grasping for something more traditional, like an IPA or lager. Me?  I positively thrived in this environment.  Of course, I love all things tart and sour, the more fermented the better.  From kim chi to sauerkraut to kombucha, I love it all and devour it all with relish.  However, even I was challenged by some of Libertine's more powerful offerings, such as the Fonce Pants, a sour saison infused with blackberries.  On the other hand, I was right at home with the amazingly refreshing Framboise, which takes the Belgian style, removes all of the sweetness and replaces it with powerful raspberry tartness.  Similarly, the fabulous Soccer Mom is a citrus-infused wild ale that takes the best elements of Campari and fizzes them up with sour citrus joy. But best of all was the staggering Wild IPA, a hopped up sour ale with huge citrus tasting notes like no other IPA I've ever had.  What was particularly awesome is that most of these beers are bottled so you can take some home as expensive souvenirs, which I happily did with the Wild IPA, plopping down a whopping $17 for a bomber of this elixir.  I can't wait to see what my hophead friends think of this one!

Farmer's Market

SLOTown Police Viper

Since Libertine is only a few blocks from Higuera Street, the one way street that along with Marsh Street traverses the whole of downtown SLO, we marched down to the market, which lines about five blocks of Higuera on Thursday nights.  This market is really more of a giant street festival every week, with vendors of all sorts hocking their wares, from Tri Tip (a favorite of the Central Coast) to fresh fruit and veg to organic soaps to most anything you could think of.  There's even activities like climbing walls, musical acts and sometimes even fire breathers... it's a real menagerie of eclecticism merged with small town FFA hometowniness.  Even the police get in on the act, bringing out their souped up Dodge Viper for all the town to gawk at.  

SLO Farmer's Market at Dusk

Michelle, one of my lovely hosts, shopped for produce while I took in the surroundings, only to be distracted by another interesting offering, new to the market: a both from a new business called Whale Bird that makes in house, craft kombucha!  In case you didn't know, kombucha is a fermented beverage, usually less than .5% ABV so it is considered nonalcoholic, that just bursts with probiotic goodness.  Like beer, it is brewed through a fermentation process but never achieves the state of alcoholic bliss, instead focusing on a broad spectrum of healthy by-products of the process, such as amino acids, active cultures a la yogurt, b vitamins and antioxidants.  And it's usually quite tart and not very sweet, despite the fact that sugar must be part of the process to ensure fermentation occurs. The two taps that Whale Bird offered on this night were a bit sweeter than the usual kombucha, but still with sugar content less than a third that of a typical soda.  On this evening, they were tapping their Ginger Sarsaparilla and their Jasmine Bliss, both of which use tea as a base for the beverage. Both were slightly sweet and refreshing, a perfect companion for the remainder of our walk through the market.

Next time, Day 8 of our travels, where we go back in time to the Prohibition Era and spend evening Banging the Drum... slowly and steadily.  Stay tuned!

The Beer Chronicles, Day 7, Part 1 - With a Little Bit of Wine Thrown In

Million Dollar Views Come with a Price

Mussel Shoals Landslide, 2005

It narrows and winds, hugging the coast, 4 to 6 lanes of asphalt the only thing between the unforgiving sea and the dry, parched hills, signs of landslides all around.  As west Main Street of Ventura gives way to nothing but coast and cliff, I am reminded of how precarious this entire area is. The narrow, 30 or so mile stretch of road that connects Ventura from Santa Barbara is one of the most susceptible to landslides in the entire state, as Mussel Shoals can attest to.  Back in 2005, the tiny little community was inundated by a massive landslide, killing several and causing untold millions in property damage.  And these things are happening with more frequency, especially as California suffers from drought and the stabilizing influence of vegetation on the hillsides is diminished.

So why do people keep living in a place so objectively dangerous?  It's the view.  There are few sights as amazing as the Pacific Ocean filling up the entire side of your car, the hazy ghosts of the Channel Islands floating in the distance.  One can almost imagine reaching all the way to Japan as you gaze transfixed across its emptiness.  And the contrast between the sharp, parched hills on your other side is equally remarkable, a contrast in blues, greys, browns, and the occasional patch of green, the latter most predominate after winter rains.  And real estate in the area demonstrates this fascination that people have.  In 2015, the median home price in Santa Barbara topped a staggering $1.1 million, all for a piece of real estate in one of the worst places to park in the world.  There, I said it.

Santa Barbara Courthouse Exterior

Santa Barbara Funk
Santa Barbara is indescribably beautiful; it's the wealthy aunt to Ventura's upper middle class niece and Oxnard's working class stepchild.  It's a clean, well-preserved slice of Spanish colonial splendor, best demonstrated by its staggering courthouse, which would put even the richest Spanish landlord haciendas to shame.  Part museum, part working legal center, I can just imagine standing before a jury of my peers in this court, shamed by my lack of poshness.


I'm giving this place a bad rap.  Like all of southern California, the people here are generally friendly and the vibe relaxed.  No one makes you wear a tie, even in nice restaurants, and flip flops are the norm, even in some of the expensive but oh-so-worth-it tasting rooms in downtown's Funk Zone. Formerly an industrial area that hugs the narrow cityscape between 101 and Cabrillo Blvd along the beach, this area has become the home for the young and young-at-heart, encompassing art galleries, wine tasting rooms, surf shops, small bistros, and, of course, breweries.   And it is for the latter that we arrived here, right around lunchtime, to sample the wares at Figueroa Mountain Brewing Company, a small chain of craft breweries nestled along the 101 corridor in Santa Barbara County.

Part of the Santa Barbara Funk Zone

After finally securing parking about half a mile away, we walked to the small block of the Funk Zone that housed the brewery, immediately enjoying the mellow ambience of a weekday lunch hour.  This one little block of this zone alone had our brewery, three wineries, and at least a couple of small bistros.  Keeping a mental note that I needed to revisit at least one winery before we left, we entered a largely uncrowded taproom.  It helped that the brewery itself did not serve food nor was it lacking in space, with a large bar, an even larger open seating area, and huge outdoor patio area.  Of courses, since we were hungry, the staff recommended snagging food from the nearby Lucky Penny, who happily would deliver it to us after ordering. Very good call; while I made sure our beer flight was ordered, my sis would hold down the fort while I ordered our grub, which also allowed for me to make a quick stop at the Area 51 Tasting Room, needing a couple of good white blends for an upcoming food and wine pairing back home.  They happily accommodated my quick and dirty tasting without charging, allowing me to sample both of their white blends, the Equinox (50/50 Chardonnay/Riesling) and the Close Encounter (30% Grenache Blanc, 30% Albarino, 20% Roussane, 10% Verdelho, and 10%Loureiro, the latter of which I'd never even heard of before).  The Close Encounter was the winner- a dry, feral, and citrus zesty summer treat that just screamed apricot, melon, and green apple- so I bought a bottle and made it back just in time for the flight and moments later our pizza to arrive.

Hard working brewer removing spent grain-
Figueroa Mountain Brewery, Santa Barbara

Our eight beers were a mix of ordinary and extraordinary, which makes sense: this is a fairly large regional brewery and some of the varieties such as the Gibraltar are meant to appeal to the larger, mass market audience of lager drinkers.  But the real stand outs here were their two mega beers, high alcohol, barrel-aged wonders that were unique amongst the brews we'd tried on this trip so far.  The Chamuco was a massive 13% ABV Imperial Brown Ale, aged in mescal and tequila barrels with the pepperiness of the spirits really shining through, rounding out nicely with a chocolate and coffee finish.  Even more remarkable was their small batch local favorite Future ExWife, another 13% ABV Imperial; this Amber Ale is aged in whiskey, cherry bitters, and vanilla barrels, with those flavors resonating throughout. Amber Ales, usually the last thing on a menu I would order, were suddenly reinvented for me here, taking on a new and almost celestial transcendence. That's how good this beer was.  If only they bottled either one.


Santa Ynez Valley Wine

Lincourt Cellars

While there are certainly breweries aplenty further north in Santa Barbara County, the afternoon was spent abjuring our usual sudsy haunts in favor of the grape vine and the remarkably good wines that the Santa Ynez Valley has to offer.  From the cool western hills of Santa Rita to the hotter valleys near Los Olivos, this is the nearly perfect wine growing area, allowing for a massive number of varietals to thrive here.  Today, we focused our attention on Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs at the lovely Lincourt Cellars, a place that is part of my wine club and which I had the good fortune to find last summer.  They reinvented Chardonnays for me, bringing out their bright, zesty qualities while submerging the overly oaky notes that had usually put me off this sort of wine.  As my sis is a serious Chard fan, it was a no brainer that we should stop here on our way up to San Luis Obispo.

What I didn't remember was how good their Pinot Noirs were as well!  On a bad day, a Pinot just tastes like a watered down Cabernet Sauvignon and that's the last thing you want.  Such is not the case at Lincourt, with one after another Pinot surrendering lovely aromas of plum and spice while treating us to a dry palate of stone fruit, violet, and that requisite pepper.  If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were slipping some Syrah into the vats as well.

The Gardens at Kenneth Volk Vineyard

When we finished our visit here (grabbing a couple of bottles of Chardonnay, of course), we had some time left before meeting with our hosts in San Luis Obispo so we decided one more winery was in the offering so we drove the backroads to the most off-the-beaten-path vineyard in the area, the Kenneth Volk winery. The one and only other time I'd been here was about three years ago and was looking forward to revisiting.  That time around it was the weekend and the place was a madhouse; they were pouring so many wines and there were so many people, I eventually gave up, having no idea whatsoever what I was drinking.  This time around we could savor it and, as it turns out, we were the only ones in the tasting room. What I did remember about this place was their specialization on producing heirloom wines, estate grown varietals that aren't commonly produced in the area.  Thus we had the pleasure of trying their Blaufrankisch, Aglianico, and Petite Sirah along with a few white varieties.  The first of these, a central European varietal, was surprising.  I'm used to German and Austrian wines bordering on the sweet side but this was nothing like that; rather, a rich tapestry of tannins coated my palate, leaving linger hints of pepper, clove, and cardamom.  While I feel the Aglianico and Petite Sirah are better served by warmer climates (our local New Mexican Aglianico is fabulous!), the Blaufrånkisch was worth the price of admission and the bottle choice of the day.

Next time, a trip to the breweries in downtown San Luis Obispo and their famous Farmer's Market. Stay tuned!