west coast adventures: beer

My mom and I ate, drank, walked, drove, and boated our way from San Francisco to Victoria, British Columbia. The mission was to not have one. Accomplished with joy and relaxation.

Somebody forgot to pack summer so we found fall out west. Within an hour of arriving in San Fran, we found ourselves in jackets sipping Anchor Steams and slurping chowders. It sure was nice to drink this old standby of a beer in it's hometown.

(8/100)

Most of the beer that we drank was consumed, appropriately, in Portland, Oregon. We drank some very nice local beer at the LaurelThirst while listening to some bluegrass with my dear, Cindy. Unfortunately, the good beer escapes my mind because we followed them with tallboys of Hamm's (9/100). Happily predictable, Hamm's.

We toured all over Portland and Sauvie Island with one of my oldest friends, who goes by Caroline but I know as Carrie. To sustain us on our island travels, we got some Beer Chips and Henry Weinhard's Root Beer (10/100). The root beer was amazing - just what I want real-deal root beer to taste like. Carrie cautioned me against the alcohol-containing Weinhard beers. I didn't drink any cuz I trust my friend.

I trust her because she's got good taste. Carrie took us to Pambiche, a Cuban restaurant, for dinner. I washed down my Ajiaco, a delicious stew, with their Michelada Cubana (11/100). As advertised, it was "an ice cold Dos XX Amber beer prepared with special spices, fresh lime and clamato juice served on the rocks with salt." It packed a bit more citrus-y punch than I wanted, but started me on a Michelada kick that's sure to last all summer.

The last beer I had was at the Bard and Banker, a Scottish pub in Victoria. The inside of this place is quite fetching. I'd love to reserve one of their snugs for a session. After a morning of shopping and touristing in the sunshine, the pint of Vancouver Island Brewery's Sea Dog Amber (12/100 ) with a side sit in the cool was a real winner.

you can go home again and/but you'll be older

On this most recent trip to Omaha, I found myself doing homework at the same coffee shop I studied (and held gainful employment) at in high school. Ten years later and still the same thing but oh-so different.




My sister is just about to enter her early-mid-twenties and is facing that startling, requisite quarter-life-crisis. She said to me, "I just thought I would be in a different place by now." To which I lovingly replied, "When they said that you could be whatever you want, they lied." Perhaps I come off as a cynic, but I think there's something liberating about limitations.

And libations.

My mom, sister, and I finished our mini-pub crawl at the Homy Inn, a small bar in Omaha that has champagne on tap. We split a pitcher of surprisingly decently good bubbly, got some popcorn, played pickles and listened to my mom tell stories about she and my dad before we were born. They knew each other six months before they were married, had their wedding on Wednesday morning, and honeymooned in Jamaica on $160. They were young and in love in the late 70's and drove across the country in a junker. It makes me feel romantic and nostaligic for a time I didn't know.


Before we went Homy, we lounged at the Surfside Club, an Omaha instituion on the banks of the Missouri River. Mooned by a boater? Check. Corn fritters with honey? Check. $7 pitcher of Old Style? Nope, it's PBR now but we still got it.

The pub crawl started at home with lunch with the extended family. My sister and I discovered the new summer beer-verage: Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy. It's like last year's Michelob Tuscan Orange & Grapefruit but better. Perfect to sip with ribs and all the Midwestern Memorial Day meal fixins. This beer brings a sunny disposition.

And even if you're not where you thought you'd be, that doesn't mean you can't enjoy where you've ended up.

the grape doesn't fall far from the vine

I really have the most amazing family. Everything you could hope for - smart, loving, comfy hedonists with a penchant for rocknroll who have lived just enough tragi-comic moments to lend credence to a memoir with a true midwestern aesthetic.

My mom spearheaded a cross-country roadtrip from Nebraska to North Carolina with her brother and father with a pitstop in here Chicago. This in and of itself is awesome. We all got together with second-cousin/uncle/future country music chart topper, Bill and his sassy lassy lady friend, LeAnn. Lemme tell you, we had a good time. We had pre-dinner drinks, dinner and drinks, and dessert and drinks. You've gotta take Bill and LeAnn's advice if you go to Bandera. Get the prime rib and grilled artichoke with a 7&7 or dirty martini or glass of wine (or all three) to wash it down. Cheers!