(Editor's Note: This is the first in a series of First Friday pieces here at The Oracular Beard, but more importantly, this is the first in a series of pieces by the one and only Anthony LaLota of The Echo & Sway fame. Smart and funny, this guy writes well. Pay attention, you might learn something.)
This past
August, Jared and I took a three day road trip up through NY’s gorgeous Hudson
Valley in the second installment of Man
Voyage, an annual tradition that began in 2013 to celebrate our impending
fatherhood. The trip evolved a bit this
year but the basic premise remained the same: a general recharging of the
batteries through good food, craft beer and a renewal of friendship. Afterward he asked me to write a guest blog
entry for you beardlets and though I don’t share your enthusiasm for facial
hair, I’m more than happy to oblige.
It wouldn’t
feel right to omit the first chapter, so we’ll begin with 2013’s Man Voyage I: the Delmarva Peninsula. Part II will follow suit, and I’m hoping
these entries are up to the high standards Jared sets with his fantastic
writing here on TOB, as I’d love to make this contribution after each years’
trip.
First of
all, let’s make sure we’re pronouncing it correctly: like Bon Voyage, only we’re two dudes on
a trip celebrating our manhood, so it’s Man Voyage. If you think it’s a stupid name, you’re clearly not manly enough to understand. It’s also become known as Beers & Bros and B-roadtrip, if one of those tickles your fancy.
As the
summer of 2013 was winding down, we began to realize how excited, nay woefully
unprepared we were for this greatest of changes about to besiege our
lives. What better way to calm our
nerves than to talk the whole thing out on the open road, stopping occasionally
to discover some new grub and brew? We
pride ourselves on going local wherever we are, and Man Voyage was going to embody that spirit.
Delmarva is
a term for the peninsula that shares land between Delaware, Maryland and
Virginia (see what they did there? So clever). It used to be a
wasteland for decent beer – in all the years my wife and I vacationed in
Ocean City the best we ever got were European imports at the Irish pub on the
boardwalk. I poked around on Beer Advocate and found a few new places had
opened in the years since, and I’m happy to report that Delmarva has finally joined
the world of craft beer, with some damn fine establishments so far.
Fordham/Dominion
and 16 Mile breweries would’ve added a few more stops but we skipped
them. Fordham/Dominion was once the exclusive craft beer they
served at Rams Head Live in Baltimore – I tried several at a Hold Steady show
and none impressed me. I bought a sixer of 16 Mile once on a whim and
downright hated it. If you’d whole-heartedly recommend either place
please share; I’d love to make this trip again and will include them next time.
Dogfish Head Brewings & Eats
is a Rehoboth staple. There’s a reason
their beer is so widely distributed and renowned – I’ve long been a fan of Sam
Calagione’s innovative brews, and their take on simple styles like the pale ale
(Shelter Pale) and the IPA (60 Minute) stand out more than most, and the food
at the restaurant has never disappointed. We met our friend Tom at his Milton, DE apartment 40 minutes north of
Rehoboth (he and his lovely wife Maria were kind enough to let us couch surf
for the night), and he drove us the rest of the way.
The only
negative is the word’s gotten out about this place. It’s always been
busy, but I’d never seen it like this. On
a Tuesday night we waited an hour to get seated, and could barely squeeze in at
the bar in the meantime. I don’t mind waiting a bit for good food and
beer, and with it being peak season I assumed we would, but it wasn’t just busy
– it was overrun with drunk frat boys and family men deep into their mid life
crises, wearing their sunglasses indoors, whining about the lack of sports on
TV and holding entire conversations exclusively via dick and fart jokes. One moron in particular repeatedly harassed the hostess about his wait time, at
one point putting his arm around her in an attempt to woo her into seating him
sooner. I offered my condolences and asked if this type of malarkey was
common. “More often than I’d like,” she responded with a frustrated smile. It’s a shame really. The bitter part of me wants to blame Sam’s
involvement in the “Brewmasters” show for overexposing the brand, but my
sensible side knows it’s just damn good beer and the idiots
would seek it out eventually.
Aside from that
unpleasantness it was a damn fine visit. Previously, my only complaint was their lack of one-offs or draft only
selections. For such a renowned brewery, they only ever had their
flagship brews, maybe a seasonal and some aged bottles. This time around
they boasted a whopping 19 beers on draft, four of them brewpub exclusives. This is what I’ve always expected from a
place with the production capabilities of DFH. Jared, ever the IPA
loyalist, had the 120 Minute, which is delicious and smooth but it’ll knock you
on your ass. The 15% ABV is really well hidden in the flavor and it
sneaks up on you quick. The Firefly (session pale ale), Stewed (strong
English style pale) and Piercing Pilsner were all very quaffable, the pils and
Firefly tasting especially nice on a hot summer night (we’ve since seen the
pilsener in bottles in PA).
Some genius in the kitchen deserves a promotion for stuffing
an onion ring with bacon and putting it on top of a burger – maybe this is
already a trend and I’m late to the party but it’s the first time I’ve encountered
this miracle of burger innovation. And just when I thought it couldn’t get
better, they actually cooked it rare – Wisconsin cheddar, bacon stuffed onion
ring and a little bit of blood. Bravo, DFH. The other highlight
was our dessert of Choc Lobster, a beer I admittedly was prepared to order
based on the name alone. I balked when the waitress told us it was brewed
with live lobsters in the kettle – I don’t care for lobster, but she insisted
it was the perfect dessert beer. She wasn’t lying – a chocolate porter
with an aftertaste of ocean. Sounds funky but I’d drink another in a
heartbeat.
A post-dinner dip in the ocean was the perfect end to the
evening, for me anyway. I’d poked fun of
Tom and Jared for not having the nerve to get in, though they didn’t spend the
40 minute drive home soaking wet with nothing to dry off with. Maybe the joke was on me.
After a refreshing nights’ sleep Maria prepared a lovely scrambled
egg and sausage breakfast. We stopped in
downtown Milton at Dolce, an
extremely welcoming cafe and bake shop, snagged some piping hot coffees to go
and took them on the downtown river walk through the shopping district, along
some boat docks and a public park. It
was quiet and scenic, and a relaxing way to spend an hour before heading south
to Salisbury, MD for Evolution Brewing.
Evolution didn’t open until 12:00 and it was only an hours’
drive to Salisbury, so we had some time to kill. Fortunately in the very small town of Laurel,
DE we stumbled upon Attic Fanatic,
a very large antique mall sprawled out over a few buildings. We were looking to kill maybe 30 minutes and
wound up inside almost two hours. Antique
malls are always a mix of useless junk and things you can’t believe someone
would want to get rid of. Me, I go for vintage
clothing and furniture, 50s/60s bric-a-brac, vinyl, old photos and postcards,
and they had plenty. If we’d been
driving a small pickup truck instead of Jared’s Ford Focus I might have walked
out with a mid century end table or even a small dresser.
Evolution is a rather large building with a nice palm tree façade,
and houses a more formal sit-down restaurant and tasting room with a long bar,
a few pub tables and table top video game console with all the classics –
Donkey Kong, Space Invaders, even Mappy. We played a few video games over
beers until we got hungry enough to order some lunch. Best sandwich on
the trip was a toss-up between the DFH burger and Evolution’s glorious
Wednesday special of a $5 brisket sandwich. Slow-smoked and tender with a
house-made root beer sauce, Jicama apple slaw and a big ol’ pile of
fries. The bartender offered us a locally made cajun dipping sauce for
the fries and I dumped it on the second half of my sandwich as well.
The beer at was every bit as good as the food. The IPA was
delicious, very hoppy but balanced and thirst quenching after coming in out of
the heat. The ESB was good, but I’ve got to learn to stop ordering
ESBs. My favorite representation of the style is Oliver’s ESB at the
Wharf Rat in Baltimore, and thus far no other has lived up to it. The
brewery exclusive Wandering Monk Belgian Pale Ale, however, was
exceptional. A lot of traditionalists, even some whose writing I admire
(I’m talking to you, Lew Bryson) aren’t keen on the style but Belgian Pales and
Belgian IPAs have really grown on me and if I’m in the right mood, have become
my go-to when trying a new place.
The Prelude Belgian Gold (also a brewery exclusive) sounded
tasty but a bit high in ABV after we’d already had a few pints. The bartender poured us a 4 oz sample size
and didn’t even charge us for it. Add in
a friendly chat with a down-to-Earth local who congratulated us on procreating,
offering us some wisdom he’s acquired after raising three daughters, and the
bar was set quite high for the day.
Tall Tales Brewing Company in Parsonburg, MD, was an easy 20
minutes up Ocean Gateway toward Ocean City. They have the benefit of
sharing their building with a landscaping company so the place is really done
up, though we were both disappointed in the lack of the “tall tales”
theme. Aside from a few small logos printed on the beer menu, there’s
nothing of it to be found. Rather the atmosphere is a bit industrial for
my taste; the bar area and tasting room have a sort of corporate feel, and the
men’s room looks like something that yuppie couple from Beetlejuice would’ve
had installed in the house after Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin died. It’s all very
sharp, just wasn’t for us.
Anyway, that’s a small complaint. The beer was tasty –
we had the Some Beach Island Ale, a nice session Blonde ale with Kolsch yeast,
the Excalibur IPA and Bonnie & Clyde DIPA, and Paul Bunyon Pale. The
Paul Bunyon was probably my favorite – very citrusy hop character like an IPA
but a bit smoother and balanced like a pale. It seems like one of those
all-around good beers that craft beer snobs and fizzy yellow piss water
drinkers alike could agree on. The bartender couldn’t have been friendlier,
chatting us up about their brews and renovation plans to put a massive patio
and fire pit area out back before sending us on our way to Burley Oak Brewing,
just up the road in Berlin.
While the bartender at Tall Tales was friendly and very accommodating,
her directional skills need some work. She attempted to guide us to Burley Oak by
telling us to “turn right at the giant produce sign about five miles up the
road.” By “giant” she meant “slightly
larger than an average street sign” and by five miles, she meant 15. It was a small hiccup, and well worth
it. Burley Oak was one big open space
with a long bar, a few tables constructed from old barrels and a display area
with a ton of merchandise (how many different shirt designs does one brewery
need?). Christmas lights bordering their detailed chalkboard draft list
and a cutout picture window view of the brewers in action are both nice
touches.
Their beer was some of the best on the trip, with fun names
to boot – Aboriginal Gangster (IPA with New Zealand hops), Waffle Stomper
(Belgian IPA), and Golden Sex Panther (lemongrass & basil saison,
admittedly not as fun to drink as it was to order…I settled for a sample). Small-batch stuff is always the best; most
I’ve found aren’t quite as good as our nearby Selinsgrove Brewing Co, only
served in-house, but Burley Oak is close. Everything tasted like it had
just been tapped moments before we arrived.
.
Tall Tales seemed to cater more to the flourishing summertime tourist crowd,
whereas Burley Oak had a more local feel to it. Burley Oak’s event
calendar features original singer/songwriters and bring-your-own-vinyl nights
rather than the run-of-the-mill karaoke and Jimmy Buffet tributes that overrun
most beach vacation spots. The drawback is slightly less focus on the
travelers – which isn’t to say the staff at Burley was the least bit
unfriendly, just more eager to chat up the regulars they know will be back every
week. It’s more an observation than a complaint – the bartender was quick
to offer refills and answer questions so if he’d rather chat business with the
guy who owns the jet ski rental place down the road it’s fine by me.
Two and a half hours and a drive across the good ol’ bay
bridge later and we were in my home-sweet-home-away-from-home of
Baltimore. I’ve written countless songs
about my love/hate relationship with that city, and being there with my wife,
family, friends, and anyone I care about is centering in a way I can’t
describe. My sister Caitlin lives in
suburban Catonsville and was a very gracious host, so we treated her to dinner
at the newly opened Heavy Seas Alehouse
downtown, just off Little Italy.
The Heavy Seas brand has been a Baltimore staple for years
but until recently they’ve only had a tasting room and tours at Clipper City
Brewery in Halethorpe, just south of the city. The alehouse looks like a
revamped old warehouse and impossible to miss with the giant Heavy Seas logo shining
down Bank Street. It’s gorgeous inside, all rustic looking wood to
compliment the brick walls, large scale beer posters and ship memorabilia
hanging everywhere. Since there were three of us we decided to order an
assortment of the snacks and small plates to share: cured meats and cheese with
mustards, soft pretzels with beer cheese sauce, prosciutto with apple compote
and ciabatta crisps. All were okay but
nothing I’d hurry to try again. Next time we’ll get sandwiches.
The beer was top notch as always, matey. I was thrilled they still had their summer
seasonal Red Sky at Night on tap. Saison
with Belgian yeast and candied sugar, goes down smooth with a warming, boozy
finish. We gulped down a few beers,
filled a growler with their Marzen lager for later and headed back to the ‘burbs
for some video games and Netflix before passing out on the couch.
You can count on three things in life: death, taxes, and
every coffee shop ever employing two types of people: the mopey hipster with
unkempt hair too tired to take your order because he hasn’t had his coffee yet,
and the excessively peppy hipster in a beret who can’t wait to make your order
because she’s had too much. Bean Hollow in historic Ellicott City
was no exception (Avenue 209 is the only one, not that we’re biased). Sad emo barista looked physically pained
after writing our short order of two coffees and one muffin. No matter, it gave me something to chuckle
about early in the morning. We took our coffees on a stroll through Taylor’s
Antique Mall (since closed), and headed on toward Frederick for our last stop
of the day.
Brewer’s Alley in downtown Frederick was the first
brewpub established in Frederick County, in 1996. Maybe that statistic
set my expectations a little high but we didn’t enjoy our experience there at
all. We sat on the patio outside. Our waitress took forever to come
over, and was bored and annoyed at answering our very simple questions about
the menu. She interacted the same way with the other patrons, and after
listening in a bit I discovered most of the other servers were the same
way. I asked the hostess where the bathroom was and she grunted and
pointed without looking up. They all
gave sad emo barista a run for his money.
The visit would have been salvaged by a decent meal and beer
but those weren’t great either. Pale ale and IPA tasted so similar I
wondered if the bartender accidentally poured the same beer twice. I
ordered the cask IPA next figuring I couldn’t go wrong with a cask beer. I
was wrong again. Aside from having a better mouthfeel from the cask pour,
it was one of the most unexciting IPAs I’ve had. Fish tacos and pulled
pork sandwich were very uninspiring as well. I don’t mean to totally run the place down but how it scores an 89
(“very good”) rating on Beer Advocate is beyond me. It would take a lot
of steady rave reviews over a decent period of time for me to go back. The
rest of downtown Frederick is nice though. Tree-lined and clean, with a quaintness despite the constant bustling of
traffic.
The Man Voyage
manifesto was accomplished. We ate and
drank heartily, most of it very, very good, and what wasn’t all that great didn’t
matter. The driving in between, singing
Springsteen, Tom Waits and Van Morrison tunes, imagining the mistakes we’ll
make in the years to come while championing each others’ strengths and positive
attributes, giving encouragement and wondering how our kids have any chance of
leading normal lives with us as their fathers. That’s the stuff Man Voyage is
made of.
Beer and food too…because who wants to think about all of
that on an empty stomach?
