BEER TRAVEL: KEEP IT CLOSE TO HOME

Beer travel is not complicated. Nor should it be.

Go someplace interesting, drink a beer.

That’s beer travel at the most simple. And you don’t have go far.

At least that’s the way I like it, but things do come up.

A grocery shopping beer bar is the best thing invented since the bottle and cap.

It’s an essential element of shopping at New Seasons. It takes a couple of pints to take the edge off of what’s in the cart.

In the cart:

Roasted Cauli Kale Salad In Tahini @ $9.99/lb.

Broccoli Bacon Salad With Grapes & Almonds @ $9.99/lb.

Hominy Sweet Pepper Slaw @ $9.99/lb.

Finding them all under that $10.00 price point is not suspicious? Or just good marketing in the market?

I asked my wife about the salads and slaw since I wasn’t standing at the deli cooler while she decided on those three. If I had been it would have taken more time due to so many delicious choices.

And more than likely none of them would be in my fridge this morning.

Instead I was at the beer bar with the boys talking wind and rain and the bomb cyclone and atmospheric river in the news. You know, bonding time with beer travel.

Beer Bonding With The Fellas

“I’m from D.C. and heard about rain out here. Yeah, it rains, but it’s more constant than the downpours we got.”

“I lived in Philadelphia and saw it rain so hard it smashed up a foot and a half off the sidewalk.”

“Why can’t the weather man just say there’s going to be hard rain and strong wind instead of atmospheric river and bomb cyclone. Why get everyone spooked.”

“Anytime there’s bomb in a description is frightening.”

“Add bomb and river together and what do you get?”

“An explosive flood.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“A dam breaking might be explosive.”

“Or enough rain to create landslides.”

“Before that happens, what’s the best beer on the list today?”

“Number four.”

“I’ll have a pint of number four please.”

The bar man blows the keg.

“All out of number four.”

“What’s the second best beer?”

“Number two.”

“A beer with vanilla? Why vanilla.”

“It takes the edge off the hops.”

(I like beer with an edge of hops.)

“Number two, please.”

Beer Travel Bonding

I live less than ten minutes away from my two favorite beer stops, Tapphoria Tap House and New Seasons.

The first has a unique beer found in only two places in the world: At the brewery and at Tapphoria. It’s a balanced IPA in a hop crazy state celebrating ‘Fresh Hop Season.’

New Season’s vanilla beer wasn’t horrible, but the company was better. Instead of funky tap beer they were bringing favorites out of the cooler for the bar man to pour for them.

They knew what they liked, I was in there taking chances.

Hanging out and talking over beers is a good bar rag time. It applies to beer drinkers everywhere in good company, not so much the isolated chuggers.

The same sort of people congregate around beer and break it down while doing the same to college football and the NFL. Everyone gets to be an expert.

I was halfway down the second pint when my wife cruised by with her cart of ten dollar salads on sale for $9.99. She was ready to check out. I said I’d meet her at the counter after I finished up.

She said she was ready to check out and I said I’d be there when I finished the rest of the beer in my glass. It was a moment.

Others might look at that vanilla beer and feel the relief of leaving it. After all, when a wife is ready, everyone is ready. But I come a different culture, one where no one leaves half a beer at six dollars a pint.

That would be a three dollar loss, or about the same as a spoonful of artisan salad.

A Six Pack To Go? No

Like a mature man I tossed back the rest of my beer, found my wife and a full cart at the fifteen items counter, and packed groceries after check-out.

We drove home in careful conversation.

“Why can’t you just leave when I’m ready to go?”

“Because it would be rude to my friends.”

“Those are your friends? What’s their names?”

“I don’t know, but guys drinking beer at the same time and same place are always friends. You wouldn’t want me yanking you out of conversation with your friends would you?”

“I have real friends. They’re not strangers at some bar.”

“New Seasons is a grocery store.”

“And you know those guys?”

“One of them was a hockey player. He knows our bookkeeper.”

“Maybe you should go by yourself next time.”

“Give me a list and I will, but you might miss out on the salad array.”

“Not if it’s on the list.”

“Especially if it’s on the list.”

“Maybe I’ll go alone next time.”

“I wouldn’t want to miss out on the beer bonding with my buddies, so no, I’m going with you.”

“Your new best friends. Do any of them play guitar?”

“That’s asking too much, but I checked. They’re not in the band.”

“You need music friends.”

“Yep, that’s what I need. Do you know how that usually turns out?”

“No, I’ve never had music friends. How does it turn out?”

“Like the Beatles. Someone is always Paul and someone is John. They play, have fun, then something happens.”

“What happens?”

“Ask your friends what happens. Life happens. Do you feel like singing a song?”