Schlafly Repeal of Prohibition

April 14, 2008

The recaps are starting around the Web. The three of us arrived in St. Louis for what my wife called “the broventure” and Bradley’s wife called “the man date.” For one day, we left behind kids and wives for beer. We each drove a little farther than the next: 2 hours, 3 and a half hours, 4 hours. Here’s a little rundown with pics.

• The hotel manger is flustered because someone called and said the hotel’s phone number is a sex number. She flips through the phone book to check. “We’re not even in the phone booth,” she yells. “My owner is going to be mad.”
• The cab driver from the hotel (we ain’t driving when we are drinking) got lost. He had no idea how to get to Bottleworks. At one point, he asked Bradley how “much weight you lift?”

• He gave us his card. We threw it out.

• I was excited for New Albania. I follow the brewpub’s blog (amazing draft lists) and have heard good things about the brewery (I also followed a Louisville gourmet bulletin board thread once; New Albania’s owner got into a fight with local chefs about beer offerings). The Hoptimus is the beer I want to buy once a week. Floral. Great aroma. A type of Hop Slam or Hop Wallop kindred spirit. The Thunderhead was a rich, maybe too rich with cherry/stout intensity. The Imperial Pilsner was hoppy, but just right. And I don’t like Pilsners. Only when they get Imperial. Hail the empire.

• Three Floyds didn’t bring what I really wanted. But I still had 2-3 Alpha Kings for old times sake.
• Brugge and Mad Anthony offered pleasant surprises. A tripel that was caramel-y. An oatmeal stout that was rich and dark. Those are “respectively” mini-reviews.
• We ate venison chile for lunch. And I ate a bison burger. Bars are judged by their beer, of course. But brewpubs are also judged by the ways their food comforts. We felt very comfortable at the Bottleworks. As I made my way through the long bathroom line, I thought: I should take the wife here on our next trip to St. Louis. Then some ladies giggled because the men’s room had a line. Finally, they thought.

• The wind and cold cut through the tents. I’ve been fighting being sick for almost a month now. The cold didn’t help.
• Square One was a letdown.
• Rabbit. Braised rabbit.
• We drank a slightly aged La Folie at Chocolate. The waitress failed to tell us Eric’s Ale was also on tap. It wasn’t on the menu and wasn’t with the main taps. Only after she saw us drinking our sour tastes away did we get the news. We got to sample some Eric’s in the end, so all aligned. Eric’s is not nearly as sour as La Folie, but it is nice. Now I have two New Belgiums I like. When I can get them, that is.
• By 33 I had reached my limit. I just can’t do the noon-midnight routine anymore. Thomas and Bradley had no problem, but I was finished. I had brought a bottle of the Abyss to share, and we didn’t get to do that. That was my other disappointment. Filling to the point of no more; not sharing. Even broventures can falter. If this was a movie, we’d have our crash into a tree or falling out, and then we’d recuperate. We did. Or I did, at least.
• Around Lafayette Park, hipsters and the young professionals come out and play. The area reminded a lot of Detroit and Merchant’s Row. The rebuilding. The architecture. The young ones out for fancy drinks. The elevation of cool and the urban. Lafayette may be the kind of place Richard Florida dreams about.
• When I drove home, it was snowing.

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