Drink Philadelphia Weekly

Mix-A-Six: The Newbie Edition

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:11:07 PST

Furthermore Three Foot Deep 5.5% abv

This beer will talk dirty to you. It’s an Irish-style dry stout (from Florida) with a pinch of peat that adds smokiness and an earthiness. It’s the beer I want in my hand when I hear the fire crackle for the first time this season. $2.45

Terrapin Rye Squared 8.5% abv

Ignore the turtle on the label- this beer will get you there quickly. This rye double IPA is penny- tinted pretty. It’s got double the malt, double the hops and double the character of its little sister, their flagship Rye IPA. Terrapin is one of the best new breweries to hit Philly. Try their Left Hand collaboration, Depth Charge, if you can find it. $3.60

21st Amendment Live Free or Die IPA 7% abv

There are 45 craft breweries canning around the states now. Why cans? The opacity prevents oxidation- think cardboard, and skunking- think green-bottled import lagers. Sustainability-the cylinders break down quicker. They are lighter trips to the curb at the end of the night and cans can go where no bottle has gone before. This IPA is not for the “hop head” alone, but has a nice biscuity malt backbone making it more accessible for those wanting to ease into the style. $2.20

Great Lakes Dortmunder 5.8% abv

This golden lager has the perfect balance of malt and German noble hops. Its snappy character makes for an ideal food beer. And it IS turkey time, isn’t it? Having won 13 gold medals out of the last 14 years at the World Beer Championships, this Cleveland craft might deserve a place at your Thanksgiving table. $2.35

Dark Horse Black Bier 7% abv

This is the No. 1 seller for the Marshall, Michigan brewery at the Foodery. The donkey on the label is a bit of a mystery. But my delight with the bottle’s contents was no surprise. It was a viscous, creamy, bitter chocolate, big- but balanced beer. Labeled as an American Strong, but will keep stout lovers happy all winter long. $2.35

Cigar City Impovisacion 9% abv

Tampa actually bills itself as “American’s Next Great City.” Curious. But they’re better known as Cigar City. These Floridians are all about innovation. They even have a “Humidor” series in which their beers are aged on cigar box cedar. Here you have a complex Oatmeal Rye Indian Brown Ale. There’s a distinct spiciness from the rye. It’s also like a pine tree dipped in caramel and chocolate. $16.95

Philly's Top 15 Drinks

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 17:43:58 PST

True story: At least two writers associated with this issue got a teensy bit tipsy after sampling one particularly potent drink on the top 15 list. (Oyster House’s Katie Loeb makes ’em strong and delicious.) Light weights, you say? Nope. Just dedicated. For PW’s annual food and drink issue, we went out to get our drink on. We dispatched four of the most discerning drinkers we know to scour the city for the most delicious cocktails. They’re listed here in no specific order, because, quite honestly, we couldn’t choose a favorite. We also challenged some of our favorite local ’tenders to mix up tasty liquid libations using locally distilled absinthe and got the recipes, so yes, please do try this at home. While we’re giving orders, check out the inside scoop on what you can do to make bartenders love you. (Hint: It has nothing to do with tipping.) And if you, like us, sometimes sample too much sauce, we’ve got six surefire edible hangover cures. Just don’t blame that hangover on us. Blame it on the al-al-al-alcohol. (Erica Palan)

James-hattan

Dear brown liquor-averse, please meet the cocktail that will lure you to the dark side. The James-hattan, Jim and Kristina Burke’s riff on the classic Manhattan, is so smooth it rides down the throat like a tyke on a Slip ’n’ Slide. Dispensed from a Green-Glass jug behind the exposed brick-backed bar, whiskey infused in-house with raisins, cinnamon and orange mingles with sweet vermouth in a Boston shaker before being strained into a properly chilled martini glass. The resulting mix is autumn in a cup, really subtle and best enjoyed by James’ fireplace. (Adam Erace)   $10. James, 824 S. Eighth St. 215.629.4980. jameson8th.com 

Smoke ’Em If You Got ’Em

Normally, with beer, our rule is “don’t mess with a good thing.” Hence, we approached the London Grill’s new draft beer cocktail menu with great skepticism, and our uncertainty was largely validated. With one notable exception. The Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em, arriving in a highball and looking like a glass of iced tea that’s been sitting out in the sun too long, harnesses the kick of chipotle-infused mezcal to the crisp, hoppy character of Victory’s Prima Pils. The smoked salt lining the rim enhances the smoky flavors of the mezcal. This one burns, but in a very good way. (D.P.)  $9. London Grill, 2301 Fairmount Ave. 215.978.4545. londongrill.com 

Frozen Blood Orange Margarita 

Stop it. We see you rolling your eyes, murmuring under your breath. “Frozen drinks are for resort tourists and sorority girls.” Yeah, yeah. And while we might concede that the frozen blood O at El Vez isn’t as meticulously handcrafted as the other cocktails on this list, you can’t argue about how great it tastes. Tiny bits of plump pulp from blood orange purée spike the drink with delicious bursts of juice. The long bite of gold tequila lingers in the mouth after the original tart kick fades away. Put another way: This shit is the shit, so tough shit. But you know that already, otherwise you wouldn’t be buying the nearly 16 gallons El Vez sells each day. (Brian McManus)   $9. El Vez, 121 S. 13th St. 215.928.9800. elvezrestaurant.com  

Calvados Sidecar 

Unlike the rest of France, there’s very little wine produced in the region of Normandy. Beyond beaches dotted with Nazi pillboxes and the scars of the D-Day invasion lay apple orchards instead of vineyards. That didn’t stop the thirsty and resourceful people of this area from creating their own unique alcohol distilled from fermented apples, Calvados. Evocative of apples and pears, the young liquor is aged in oak casks to round out the flavor and color. At the Rittenhouse Square brasserie Parc, they’ve Normanized their Sidecar by replacing brandy with Calvados but stay true to tradition by finishing the drink with the sweet orange liqueur Cointreau and fresh lemon juice. (Tim McGinnis)  $8. Parc, 227 S. 18th St. 215.545.2262. parc-restaurant.com 

Oyster House Punch(es) 

The Oyster House makes the best version of the storied Fish House punch—a traditionally potent blend of rum, cognac and brandy created in 1848—we’ve had in Philly, where the drink was invented. The secret? Master mixologist Katie Loeb substitutes apricot brandy for peach, making for a drier, less sweet drink. The end result is tasty and complex and will, as written of the original in a poem collected in the 1885 book The Cook , “make you forget your mother-in-law.” Now here’s the bad news: Oyster House Punch was taken off the menu last week. It’s a summer drink, after all, and we’re deep in the throes of autumn. But don’t fret. Loeb has another punch that packs a wallop for the season: Mother’s Ruin—a gin (or “mother’s ruin” in Brit slang) and cinnamon/chai tea-infused sweet vermouth concoction topped with champagne. Loeb borrowed the recipe from friend and mentor Phillip Ward (see “Silver Monk”), mixologist at New York City restaurant/mezcal bar Mayahuel, and we’re thrilled she did. Grapefruit juice and fresh lemon juice give the punch a tart jolt, and will fill you with such warmth you’ll forget summer ever left. (B.Mc.)   $7. Oyster House, 1516 Sansom St. 215.567.7683. oysterhousephilly.com 

Lemonnana 

When life hands you lemons, go for Lemonnanas at Zahav. That’s right, plural. This street-wise Israeli lemonade spiked with Jim Beam was made for session drinking, inspired by the cart coolers served to combat the heat in the Holy Land. “In Israel, they blend it with ice to make almost a slushy,” says Steve Cook, who with chef and co-owner Mike Solomonov, brainstormed Zahav’s cocktail menu “on buses traveling throughout the country” on a company field trip. At the sand-hued Society Hill resto, the hard lemonade is shaken and poured over fresh ice in a tall Collins glass wonderfully swampy with muddled mint and lemon verbena. Ridiculously refreshing and fragrant, the easy-drinking Lemonnana also makes fast friends with any of Solomonov’s za’atar-dusted delights. (A.E.)  $9.50. Zahav, 237 Saint James Place, 215.625.8800. zahavrestaurant.com  

Chicha Morada 

PW’ s food writers are an adventurous lot. We’ve happily tucked into bowls of tripe, picked at braised pork neck and salivated over some of the stinkiest cheeses in the world, but most of us would draw the line at Peru’s chicha morada. A chicha maker chews on purple maize, allowing salivary enzymes to convert the starch into fermentable sugars thus creating alcohol. Luckily, Chifa’s modern interpretation of the drink is served with less risk of swine flu. Their version includes the use of spiced rum as the alcohol component mixed with purple corn and pineapple. Served in a wine glass over ice, the drink is reminiscent of horchata and sangria rather than mucus and loogies. (T.M.)  $8/glass, $32/pitcher. Chifa, 707 Chestnut St. 215.925.5555.  chifarestaurant.com

Silver Monk

Imagine our horrified surprise to discover, after drowning our World Series sorrows in Silver Monks at Franklin Mortgage, that this sprightly tequila cocktail is a Yankee import. Gregarious Franklin barkeep Colin Shearn may have mixed us this tonic of blanco, muddled mint and cucumber, pinches of salt and simple syrup and a dash of yellow Chartreuse, but “the Silver Monk was created by Phil Ward, formerly the head bartender at Death & Co.,” explains Shearn. Poured over a hand-chipped ice “rock” in a double old-fashioned glass, this Monk is the kind of refreshing, invigorating formula that’s perfect to start or end the night with, though we’re partial to Shearn’s apt description: “fucking amazing.” (A.E.)  $12. Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co., 112 S. 18th St. 267.467.3277. thefranklinbar.com  

Vesper 

Blur the line between fantasy and reality at Noble American Cookery by ordering the very same drink imbibed by James Bond in the 1953 book Casino Royale . Composed of Philly’s own Penn 1681 Vodka and Bluecoat gin, the cocktail is rounded out by bitter orange French aperitif Lillet blonde and orange bitters then sweetened with the essential oils of a lemon peel. Order the Vesper from Christian Gaal, who looks like he should be bartending in 1880s Deadwood and who hustles like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. A better martini is simply unimaginable. (T.M.)   $12. Noble, 2025 Sansom St. 215.568.7000. noblecookery.com 

Americano  

“Maybe you’re thinking Manhattan?” Kip Waide says when asked about the Americano he stirs up at Southwark. “Americano is delicious, but we sell very few.” To be sure, if the Manhattan was a religion, Waide’s handsome saloon would be the altar at which to worship, but here you can also sip a lavender-tinted Aviation, a genuine pisco sour frothy with shaken raw egg white and the city’s most dashing Americano, a café cocktail with origins in circa-1860 Milan. Waide creates Gaspare Campari justice with a calibration of sweet vermouth and the bitter vermilion aperitivo. Mismeasured, the Americano can be as ugly as the Americans that occupy Milan’s duomos on Perillo Tours, but Waide’s is thirst-quenching and balanced, cut with seltzer and refreshed with an orange slice. By contrast, the Manhattan seems almost fussy. (A.E.)   $12. Southwark Restaurant, 701 S. Fourth St. 215.238.1888.  southwarkrestaurant.com  

The Hemingway 

In drinker’s lore, Ernest Hemingway may be most widely associated with the daiquiri, a rum drink. But Papa was nothing if not Catholic in his taste for booze. In 1997, Samuel Rogal built an entire book, For Whom the Dinner Bell Tolls , on Hemingway’s published references to food and drink. Distrito’s nod to the literary icon is a daiquiri variant that starts with tequila (in this case Hornitos) infused with chile. The citrus edge comes from grapefruit juice, and there’s a maraschino for good measure. Subtle yet fierce, the Hemingway is the standout on a cocktail menu that’s solid from top to bottom. (D.P.)   $10. Distrito, 3945 Chestnut St. 215.222.1657. distritorestaurant.com  

Bloody Mary 

The spice is right when it comes to Cantina’s bangin’ bloody. Cinnamon, somewhere in there, followed by a punch of chili heat that’ll get your mind right after a long Saturday night at POPE. Weekends, avenue kids roll in around noon, so you won’t look out of place ordering this full-flavored vodka-tomato any time before 3 p.m., preferably paired with the eggs benny on jalapeño cornbread. Just sit back, relax, watch visiting in-laws wonder how the wait-staff got into their jeans and drink away that hangover. (A.E.)  $5. Cantina Los Caballitos, 1651 E. Passyunk Ave. 215.755.3550.  cantinaloscaballitos.com 

De Rigueur 

“They say the recipe for Sprite is lemon and lime, but I tried to make it at home and there’s more to it than that.” So goes a bit by the late, great Mitch Hedberg, and the same could be said for Village Whiskey’s De Rigueur. A heady blend of rye, Aperol (an Italian aperitif made of bitter orange, rhubarb and cinchona), grapefruit, lemon, honey and mint seems easy enough, but an attempt to make your own will be off. For one thing, VW bartender Keith Raimondi tells us, they thin the honey out with hot water, mellowing its overpowering sweetness and making it easier to work with. Inspired in part by the famed Brown Derby, the De Rigueur is perfect, fresh, modern, and best left in the hands of professionals. (B.Mc.)  $11. Village Whiskey, 118 S. 20th St. 215.665.1088. villagewhiskey.com 

Kowloon Taxi  

“It gets you where you want to go” is how the creative bar staff at Kong describe the effects of this Asian-inspired libation, and if your destination is Tastytown, then this is the cocktail for you. Domaine de Canton ginger liqueur, Ketel One vodka and cranberry juice are mixed with muddled fresh ginger and orange slices, chilled, shook, strained and served straight up. Trained at the exclusive Groucho Club in the Soho section of London, the barman and creator of the drink is into textures as well as flavors in his cocktails and leaves some of the bits of ginger swimming in the solution for an extra kick. It turns out we’re into both, too. (T.M.)   $8. Kong, 702-704 N. Second St. 215.922.5664. eatatkong.com  

The Midtown Village 

The Manhattan is the baseline. But New York’s other boroughs (and neighborhoods) also lend their names to different takes on the whiskey-based cocktail. So what if we all still call their neck of 13th Street the “Gayborhood”? APO takes the conceit from NYC and shakes up its own rendition. Spicy rye whiskey provides the heart. From port wine, some sweetness and tannins. Amaro, Italian  vermouth and bitters, all for even more complexity. Add showmanship (flames shooting off a twist of orange zest into the drink) and the undeniable essence of orange that accompanies this display, and you’ve got an aromatic, syrupy and potent blend that will warm you at any time of year. (Dan Packel)  $11. APO Bar and Lounge, 102 S. 13th St. 215.735.7500.  apothecarylounge.com 

PW's Guide to Hangover Cures

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:34:36 PST

Your eyelids peel away from what feels like sockets lined with sandpaper to reveal a spider web of red capillaries. There’s crust caking the corners of your mouth, your pillow, your hair and the pair of jeans you’ve unceremoniously tossed in a crumpled heap on your bedroom floor. As you drag your body Night-of-the-Living-Dead -style toward the sink for a giant glass of water, your head painfully thumps in unison with each beat of your heart and your stomach feels like a family of gerbils have set up shop in your innards—exercise wheel and all. While visions of last night’s beers, shots and Toasted Almond—it seemed like a good idea at the time—dance excruciatingly in your bleary head, you realize you’ve done it again. You’re hungover and you need a fix. Let this list be your go-to guide when you need to get through the worst of it. And try to look on the bright side: You didn’t bring home a fugly … this time.

Menudo

No, not the Puerto Rican boy band that launched the careers of no-talent assclowns like Ricky Martin. We’re talking about the spicy Mexican soup made with honeycomb tripe (cow stomach), a vinegar-spiked beef stock and a bright red, almost-neon chile paste. Add chopped onion, lime wedges and cilantro to adjust the flavor to your liking and dip the house-made corn tortillas into the soothing broth. The traditional thought behind this hangover cure is that it makes you sweat, releasing last night’s toxins from your system and into the air for the rest of us to smell. 

PW Recommends: La Lupe, 1201 S. Ninth St. 215.551.9920

Pho

This staple in Vietnam made with a star anise, ginger and cinnamon-infused beef broth and rice noodles is usually eaten for breakfast, but whatever time you regain consciousness after a night of hard drinking will do just fine. At Pho 75 they’re all about the beef. Try a mix-and-match combination of flank steak, fatty brisket, soft tendon, beef tripe or meatballs, or have them toss all of them into this swimming pool-sized bowl of soup. The beefy broth is comforting and effective at fighting the Irish flu, but we think it’s the plate of add-ons that do the most good against a hangover. Jalapeño’s capsaicin is a known brain pain inhibitor, the essential oils in Thai basil calm the stomach and the nerves, and lime wedges are used to fight everything from fatigue to kidney toxins to scurvy.

PW Recommends: Pho 75, 1122 Washington Ave. 215.271.5866

Coffee + Recovery Shake

The Recovery Shakes at Mugshots are meant to replenish the electrolytes you’ve shed during a long, hard workout, but if you need to recover from a long, hard night with your two best friends Jack and Ginger, it’ll set you straight. Try one made with acai berry spiked with the beneficial bacteria spirulina; both aid in cell reproduction so you just might regenerate some of those brain cells you obliterated last night. If all else fails, go with the caffeine cocktail Mugshot, a cup of coffee with a shot of espresso.

PW Recommends: Mugshots, 2100 Fairmount Ave. 267.514.7145.  mugshotscoffeehouse.com 

Pickle Juice

The Russians believe the only way to get over a hangover is to drink the juice of a pickle, but then again they also thought that invading Afghanistan was a good idea. If you’re going to go the Ruskie route, why not drink the juice of a really good pickle? AJ Pickle Patch in the Reading Terminal Market pickles everything from green tomatoes to cucumbers to beets. The theory is that the magnesium and potassium in the pickle will help with headaches and fatigue. We think when you’re hungover and dehydrated, you just crave salt. 

PW Recommends: AJ Pickle Patch, 12th and Arch sts. readingterminalmarket.org

Hae Jang Guk

If you’ve ever hung out with a bunch of Koreans you know one thing they love is drinking. We’re talking Ted Kennedy before Chappaquiddick drinking. Shane MacGowan with a handful of fifties drinking. Ernest Hemingway holed up in a Spanish hotel drinking. Sure, it’s a  stereotype, but in our experience, it’s one based in truth. Koreans also have the perfect cure for hangovers: Hae Jang Guk, translated to stomach relief soup or “hangover soup,” made with digestion aids like napa cabbage, mung bean sprouts, scallion as well as odd cuts of beef and a beefy Korean miso broth (both boosting protein levels and providing the energy for another round). This is sure to knock last night’s booze right out of you. 

PW Recommends: Pastoral Korean Restaurant, 205 S. 13th St. 215.545.8511 

Bloody Mary

Hair of the dog is an obvious choice, but it’s the only surefire solution to your alcohol ailments. While your body is being numbed by the vodka-induced dopamine surge, the tomato juice will actually do some good. Lycopene helps your blood flow and clears your head. Potassium brings you out of the general state of malaise brought on by uber-consumption, and vitamin C boosts your immune system and kills any viruses you picked up while “accidentally” kissing that stranger the night before. 

PW Recommends: Royal Tavern, 937 E. Passyunk Ave. 215.389.6694. royaltavern.com

Absinthe Cocktail Recipes from Philly Bartenders

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:21:40 PST

Last December, Philadelphia Distilling did something that hadn’t been done on the East Coast in over 100 years. The Northeast-based boutique boozier best known for its citrusy Bluecoat gin crafted Vieux Carré absinthe, a spirit that was banned in the U.S. in 1912 for the alleged psychoactive properties of wormwood, one of its primary ingredients. (Read more on page 19.) Nearly a year later, the cradle of liberty has become the cradle of the absinthe revolution. But while we imbibe absinthe with Wilde abandon at the city’s best bars, la fée verte can be a bitch for the home bartender that doesn’t know how to charm her.

We defer to the professionals. Below, four absinthe-minded professors guide the way with their best absinthe recipes.

Corpse Reviver #2

Colin Shearn, Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co., 112 S. 18th St. 267.467.3277. thefranklinbar.com

“I think the Corpse Reviver #2 is an ideal drink. While it uses a mere dash of absinthe, it shows just how powerful it can be. Without it, the Corpse might sit up, but it won’t get up and dance. This drink is a lost classic that was recently brought back into the repertoire of any serious cocktail bar. While it is a fairly simple, straightforward drink, preciseness is a must. Especially the absinthe.”

3/4 ounce gin

3/4 ounce Lillet Blanc

3/4 ounce Cointreau 

3/4 ounce lemon juice (Fresh is a must!) 

4-5 drops Vieux Carré absinthe 

Garnish: cherry (Somewhat superfluous but it looks good.) 

Shake and strain into a cocktail glass.

Hot Phoebe

Christian Gaal, Noble, 2025 Sansom St. 215.568.7000. noblecookery.com

“[This is] a toddy-esque digestive winter warmer reminiscent of mulled wine, inspired by the Prohibition-era Phoebe Snow Cocktail ( Savoy Cocktail Book , 1930). This is one you want on your side after failing to turn down that last slice of pie.”  

1 ounce Vieux Carré absinthe 

1 ounce Dubonnet Rouge (a French fortified wine) 

1 ounce of your favorite brandy (Laird’s Bonded Applejack works nicely.) 

1/2 teaspoon of blossom honey 

3-4 ounces of boiling water 

Garnish: flamed orange peel and a pinch of grated nutmeg 

Pour 1 ounce each of Vieux Carre and Dubonnet Rouge, along with your favorite brandy into an Irish coffee-like mug. Stir in 1/2 teaspoon of blossom honey, topped up with boiling water. Garnish with orange peel and nutmeg. 

Absinthe Martini 

Katie Loeb, Oyster House,  1516 Sansom St. 215.567.7683.  oysterhousephilly.com 

“This drink isn’t quite as dry as a true martini, but is a good way to introduce absinthe and its herbal flavors into your usual repertoire of cocktails. It makes for a very tasty and refreshing aperitif to get your appetite up before dinner.” 

1/2 ounce Vieux Carré absinthe 

2 1/2 ounce gin or vodka of your choosing 

1 ounce Lillet Blanc (a French fortified wine similar to vermouth) 

1 tablespoon roughly chopped fresh mint leaves 

1 dash orange bitters (Fee Brothers or Angostura Orange bitters, available at DiBruno Brothers) 

Optional (for a sweeter drink): 1 teaspoon simple syrup (equal parts water and sugar dissolved together) or Agave nectar (available at Whole Foods) 

Garnish: Fresh lemon twist or mint sprite  

Pour absinthe into a cocktail/martini glass and rotate to coat the inner surface. Pour excess into an iced cocktail shaker. Add remaining ingredients (except for the garnish) and shake vigorously.  

Strain into glass. Remove a strip of peel from lemon, taking care to remove only the yellow peel and none of the white pith.  

Point the twist over the glass, peel side facing the drink and fold the peel in half lengthwise, spraying the surface of the drink with oil from the peel. Rub the rim of the glass with the peel side of the twist and drop twist into the drink.  

A Darker Word 

Keith Raimondi, Village Whiskey, 114 S. 20th St. 215.665.1088.  villagewhiskey.com 

“The idea behind the cocktail comes from trying to fill my void for the Last Word, a cocktail made with gin, green Chartreuse, lime juice and maraschino liquor.”  

1 1/4 ounce Russels Reserve rye 

3/4 ounce Vieux Carré absinthe 

1/4 ounce yellow Chartreuse 

1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice 

1/2 ounce simple syrup 

1 orange peel 

Mix all ingredients into shaker except peel, add ice and shake. Strain into old-fashioned glass over new ice and add a twist of orange peel. 

Bartenders Hate You

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:08:41 PST

My girlfriend tended bar last summer. Right off the street, she managed to land a gig in a Cape May bar with zero experience or connects, a feat in itself but plausible because she’s cool, smart and looks like Kelly Kapowski.

In the beginning, she was bubbly as a Champagne cocktail. A virgin in the restaurant industry, cash in her pocket every night was a beguiling newfound prospect, one that, I can admit as someone who has tended bar myself, makes you question everything you know about college, careers and the 9-to-5 grind.

But bartenders are like reservoirs, big tanks filled with patience, kindness, rainbows and butterflies that start draining soon as their first drink is poured, and it was in July when my girlfriend, sunny, rookie bartender, started saying things like, “I just want to punch all these people in the face.”

It’s not her fault. When a customer scatters spent chicken bones around the bar top, leaves a shitty tip, name-drops, big-times, asks too many questions, just drinks water (or worse, milk), flags a bartender down without having their drink order ready, orders drinks without having their money ready, complains drinks are too weak, complains about the head on a draught beer, asks “what’s the cheapest thing you got,” orders a Bloody Mary after 1 p.m. or exhibits any number of other annoying behaviors, it’s like a little dam breaking in the reservoir. Each well has a different capacity, but they all run dry sooner or later. 

Bartending, one of the great social professions, just has a way of making you hate people. Thanks to bartending, the groups I hate now include the elderly; recovering alcoholics; business travelers that make awkward small talk with each other; graduates of Penn State; NASCAR fans that want to watch the race when, say, the Phillies are playing in the World Series; airline employees and women still drinking cosmos and apple martinis. You are not Carrie Bradshaw, give it a rest.

I don’t hate all people—just most. And often, tending bar can be great fun. But fuck if it isn’t a challenge.  

If you pour drinks, then you understand. If not, then know your favorite bartender at your favorite bar probably hates your guts.  

But never fear, for below are truths of some of the best bartenders in the city. My thoughts on bartending don’t necessarily reflect theirs, but pay attention to what they have to say anyway, and maybe you can get into their good graces. For those that do, know that your future holds free drinks, extra-speedy service and comfort in knowing that when you leave whatever bar you haunt, the staff isn’t talking about how they wish a SEPTA bus would take you down once and for all.

Mike Ojeda, Pub & Kitchen, 1946 Lombard St. 215.545.0350. thepubandkitchen.com

Likes: Customers that shower him with gifts of golden statues, emeralds, diamonds, rubies, exotic spices  and animal pelts. Or just nice people who introduce themselves and remember most bartenders are human.  

Dislikes: Customers that hang out after last call. “As a matter of fact, I hate having to yell out last call and do that whole stupid ritual. If you are at the bar, you are old enough to drink and should know what time you can drink till.”  

Behind the bar: Wed., Thurs. and Fri. nights; Sat. double.

Douglas Fitz, snackbar, 253 S. 20th St. 215.545.5655. snackbarltd.com  

Likes: Pleasant people. “If you open our interaction with a greeting rather than responding to my ‘Hello! And how’s your night going,’ we’re gonna have a much better time together.”  

Dislikes: People with a group who approach a busy bar and upon getting the bartender’s attention, turns to their friends and asks what they want. “Have your order ready! You just waited four minutes for my attention and you don’t know what you want? Get it together.”  

Behind the bar Mon., Tues., Fri. and Sat. nights. 

Phoebe Esmon, Chick’s Café & Wine Bar, 614 S. Seventh St. 215.625.3700. chickscafe.com  

Likes: Friendliness without over- familiarity and a willingness to try new things.  

Dislikes : The phrase “when you have a chance.” “When the only person at the bar decides he or she wants the check and asks for it ‘when I have a chance,’ it comes across more sarcastic than courteous.”  

Behind the bar: Tues., Fri., Sat. and Sun. nights. 

Michael Mariani, For Pete’s Sake, 900 S. Front St. 215.462.2230.  forpetessakepub.com

Likes: Polite people, girls that drink good Bourbon, 2 a.m. 

Dislikes: Rude people, loud college girls, customers you haven’t seen in a long time who come in at 1:45 a.m. and want to hear your life story.  

Behind the bar: Wed., Thurs. and Sat. nights. 

Katie Loeb, Oyster House,  1516 Sansom St. 215.567.7683.  oysterhousephilly.com  

Likes: Customers who take advice. “I’m a trained professional. If we don’t have Miller Light or Cabernet, or whatever it is you normally drink, I can undoubtedly come close, but you need to communicate with me.”  

Dislikes: Your cell phone. “If you can’t engage with me, I have 10 other customers that need my attention right now. I’ll get to you if and when you decide to be engaged in the process.”  

Behind the bar: Mon. nights, Tues. and Wed. happy hour, Thurs. and Sat. afternoons. ■

When It Comes To Beer, Stay Local

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 17:37:05 PST

My beer career commenced in 2003 during a 15-month stint with the “Goliath” of the craft beer industry, Sam Adams. The company's motto was “take pride in your beer” and it was easy to follow The best Boston Lager I ever had--hands down--was at the company's pilot brewery in Jamaica Plain.

When you drink local, you drink fresh--but you also support the local economy. I’ll break it down for you: When you drink a Joe Coffee Porter from Philadelphia Brewing Co. you’re not only showing some love for a local business, you’re supporting a business that’s outsourcing their graphic design to a local artist. That same artist probably walks an extra block to go to an independent café instead of Starbucks. Everyone benefits.

So what's the problem? We have local beer at our airport. The Phillies have the best beer selection of any ballpark in the country. Many area distributors have a “locals only” section. Even the area’s newest Wegmans in Collegeville has Pennsylvania beers featured separately.

But there are a few bars out there that want the gasoline beers--the heavy hitters, the brew pub one-offs--but the latest might not be the greatest. And that's not to the benefit to the hometown brews.

These are the bars that want to have the launch party for the new brand in the market. The bars that want to host Adam Avery for Philly Beer Week. It was actually during beer week that I started wondering, “Where have all the locals gone?” Steve German, director of sales for Victory Brewing, brought it up to me at a pre-Philly Beer Week meeting. He ranted “It’s Philly Beer Week, and we’ve lost handles.” Bars were taking off the locals so they could host events with California/Colorado breweries all over the city. But wait- isn’t it Philly Beer Week?

Quotations, a craft beer bar in Media, does not serve any locals. The first time I met the owner Michael Burke, he said: “If I owned a bar in Denver, I probably wouldn’t serve Flying Dog.” He felt that local brewpubs were competition. He said someone might get excited about the beer at his bar, and want to go to the brewpub instead.

Maybe that's an exception.

“When I opened the tap nearly ten years ago, the locals were underrepresented," says Standard Tap proprietor William Reed, whose pub only pours beer from a 90-mile radius. "From the beginning we tried to embrace what is timeless about a great tavern because you don’t get to be the 'new kid' for very long in this business.”

Or maybe not.

Chris Mullins of McGillin's Olde Ale House says, “It is shocking to go into some of the new, cool, gastro pubs and see a dearth of the locals on draft. When you are featuring beers from Oregon or Colorado, but barely one or two locals, it sends a sign to the consumer that this region can't compete on quality and that couldn't be further from the truth…we are proud of our goal to focus on local beer. Our breweries within 90 miles work hard for this market and we are determined to support their efforts.”

Bars that pour mostly macro are often incentivized to do so. Craft breweries don’t often have enticement in their budget. Why else would a bar owner pour three similar liquids from three different companies? “The liquid is secondary to the goodies that come along with said liquid- the radio advertising, game tickets, promo teams, scooters, etc,” says James Wiggins, craft key account manager for Origlio Beverage.

Nancy Barton of Philly Brewing Co. thinks that local beers give local bars an advantage over the usual suspects.

“Those ‘hot’ beers of the moment don’t sell through that fast," she says. "Therefore they hog a tap line for way too long. So, it's lose, lose for everyone - the bar isn't making money, the local breweries aren't selling beer, and the customer is paying too much for old beer."

This is merely to spark conversation. I started writing this sipping on a Dogfish 90 Minute IPA. I am concluding with a Crooked Tree Double IPA from Darkhorse out of Michigan. Both damn good beers that don’t use corn or gimmicky advertising. It has always been about the greater good of craft beer. And it always will be.

PW's Guide to Beer Bars

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 17:40:44 PDT

Even if you’ve still got the detox shakes and self-loathing that comes from a full-tilt celebration of Oktoberfest, don’t run off to rehab just yet. Feed your inner booze hound and try out some of these well-respected Philadelphia beer halls. We are, don’t forget, the best beer-drinking city in America and you wouldn’t want to be responsible for ruining our reputation.

6    Half a dozen or more drafts
12    Dozen or more drafts
D    Dive bar atmosphere
C    Cook with beer
K    Knowledgeable staff
L    Locally focused

If You Still Haven’t Been There
Hailed at the top of Foobooz’ recent best bar list is Standard Tap (901 N. Second St. 215.238.0630)—and for good reason. A stalwart of the Northern Liberties beer scene, serving great regional drafts like Stoudt’s Oktoberfest and Troeg’s Dreamweaver Wheat, the Tap is so much more than just a great beer bar. Their unpretentious chalkboard menu is constantly evolving with gastronomic selections like a duck liver mousse that’s sweet, rich and creamy. Served with a salad of gherkins, red onion and whole grain mustard, it’s a dish definitely worth Tweeting about. 12 C K L

If It’s Not Wine Time
We’ve always gone to Tria (1137 Spruce St. 215.629.9200) to scratch our eclectic wine itch but we’ve recently started going when we get jonesin’ for good beer. With drafts like the high gravity Weyerbacher Double Simcoe IPA and the malty, Bavarian-style Thomas Hooker Oktoberfest on offer as well as close to 20 bottled beers from breweries as far away as Japan and as close as Delaware Ave, this Gayborhood café will make even the most hardcore beer addict happy. 6 K

If You’ve Heard the Rumors
We’ve read some complaints about the service, but when we bellied up to the bar at Varga Bar (941 Spruce St. 215.627.6200.) the hospitality poured from their bartender as freely as the craft beer poured from the taps. They helped us pair our mussels and cockles (some of the best we’ve ever had) with an Ommegang Rare Vos, a fruity but spicy Belgian style beer that went perfectly with the broth we slurped from our bowl. 12 C K

If You’re Polite Company
It’s nearly impossible to stay sober at the German beer hall Brauhaus Schmitz (718 South St. 267.909.8814). It’s kind of a cultural thing, like wearing your shoes in a Japanese home or not recognizing the societal superiority of the British. It’s just not done. But you’ll find following cultural norms here as easy as Heidi Klum after a couple of Jagermeisters. These guys serve up what look like milk jug-sized steins of their house brew, Stoudt’s Gold Lager, “widely recognized as finest German-style beers brewed in America,” alongside Spaten’s malty Oktoberfest. Don’t forget to pair it with some house-fermented sauerkraut. Prost! 12 K

If You Rise From the Ashes
The newest kid to the beer bar block is Resurrection Ale House (2425 Gray’s Ferry Ave. 215.735.2202). Opened by the ambitious crew behind Memphis Taproom and Local 44, this locale is decidedly food-focused. With hoisin ribs, twice-fried chicken and white anchovies on egg salad, the menu is tasty if not a bit schizophrenic. The choices are focused and beer freak friendly with local heroes like the Yards Brawler pouring next to California’s Port Brewing Panzer Pils. 12 K L

If You’re in the Neighborhood
Memphis Taproom (2331 E. Cumberland St. 215.425.4460) not only pours exciting beers like the roasted coffee/chocolatey Duck Rabbit Schwarzbier, they serve out-of-the-ordinary food like the Welsh-inspired beef and onion pasties made with short ribs and horseradish. They also host interesting events including Saturday’s Great American Bake Sale benefiting Share Our Strength, an organization focused on feeding American children. Stop by to have a brew, chomp a pasty and enjoy some baked goods. 6 C K L

Philadelphia Distilling: More Than Bluecoat

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 06:47:13 PDT

The barriers to getting started with a micro-distilling operation aren't easily surmounted. Unlike making homebrewed beer in the basement, an aspiring distiller needs to apply to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives for a permit. And, if you don't know what you're doing, there's always the risk of what Rob Cassell, Master Distiller at Philadelphia Distilling, describes succinctly as "spark ... then kaboom."

Luckily for cocktail enthusiasts around Philadelphia, Cassell found a way to get past the challenges of licensing and training, allowing the distillery to start turning out Bluecoat Gin in April 2006. That blue glass bottle has since become ubiquitous wherever inventively facial-haired mixologists turn out labor-intensive cocktails: think APO Bar + Lounge, Franklin Mortgage & Investment Company and SouthwarK.

And deservedly so, for the gin has much to recommend it. After 16 trial batches, Cassell hit upon the right combination of botanicals, including juniper, coriander, orange and lemon peel, and angelica root, that produce a gin with compelling aromas of orange and earth, but surprising smoothness on the palate.

Buoyed by the success of Bluecoat, Cassell, a Boyertown, Montgomery County native now living in East Falls, aimed to expand the range of offerings from the 8,000-square foot distillery just off Roosevelt Boulevard in far Northeast Philadelphia. In the last year, he's tackled both perhaps the most unavoidable of spirits, vodka, as well as one of the most esoteric, absinthe.

The absinthe, named Vieux Carré, in an homage to New Orleans' French Quarter, is made in the same hand-hammered copper still that's also used for the gin. Banned in the US in 1912, the spirit was only re-allowed in the country in 2007. Cassell's rendition is the first to be distilled and bottled on the East Coast of the US in almost 100 years.

For a self-proclaimed geek like Cassell, this is a thrill. "You get to make something that hasn't been made ... that's fun." There was no shortage of trial and error to hit on the formula that ultimately included 9 herbs, some of which are grown in Pennsylvania, while others are brought in from France and Switzerland, the original hotbed of absinthe production.

"All the individual ingredients are ...eh. But when you combine them and bounce them off each other, it takes off," says Cassell. There's no real analogue to absinthe in the world of spirits. Vieux Carré is an unusual, murky, dark yellow in color. The nose is earthy and deep, but then it's lush on the palate, with an undeniably rich mouthfeel. Dillution with water almost makes the spirit dance, first revealing smoky characteristics that, when neat, yield to nuanced minty notes. One thing this absinthe doesn’t invoke is Scope. Thankfully.

When he starts talking about the minute details of the distillation process, Cassell's voice begins to speed up, like a school child discoursing about his latest cartoon obsession. To the uninitiated, the effect is largely the same: general befuddlement.

This phenomenon is especially pronounced in front of the column still that he installed to produce 1681 Penn Vodka, named after the year William Penn received the charter to found the state. Luckily, there's little mystery about the ingredients. Cassell uses nothing but unmalted rye from Lehigh, York, Somerset, and Lancaster Counties, all within a roughly 200-mile radius of the distillery.

"I wanted to show that you can mke a quality product with locally grown stuff and sell it at a fair price," says Cassell. If those were really the only criteria, this is a resounding success. The state stores have it at $24. That's a lot cheaper than much of the flashy stuff. And it does what vodka's supposed to do—stay out of the way. There's a clean, pure nose, plus a little flash of character on the finish, when the rye kicks in to provide a bit of spice.

But evidently for Cassell, there's one overriding value at play behind all three of these products. It entails finding a way to unite quality and creativity with serious steps to minimize the environmental impacts of his efforts. "If there's one thing I like, it's the ability to put my own personal views into practice." This is taking booze seriously—in a good way.

Fall Food and Drink Guide

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 16:33:56 PDT

The Wine School (2006-2008 Fairmount Ave. and 227 Market St. 800.817.7351. vinology.com) is like an Ivy League fraternity and classroom rolled into one. Where else can you get an education in food and wine pairings, taste the difference between Irish and English beers and take Wine 101—a class about wine basics—to impress your friends the next time you go to Tria ? The Wine School and its brother, Philly Beer School , offer a full roster of fun and boozy classes throughout the fall at both their Fairmount and Old City locations.

The mod kitchen theater at Foster’s Homeware (399 Market St. 267.671.0588. shopfosters.com) provides a fun atmosphere for learning kickass cooking techniques (think: Morimoto-style knife skills) as well as recipe tricks. Examples include how to make authentic tomato sauce, secrets to the perfect cake and tips on handling your own salami.  

Williams-Sonoma (The Bellevue, 200 S. Broad St. 215.545.7392. williams- sonoma.com) offers demonstration-style classes that allow students to sit back and learn. You can sign up for the entire series or pick from classes like Bistro-Style Supper, Hors d’oeuvres for a Wine Tasting and Fall Celebration. All classes include samples of the dishes and printed recipes to take home.  

Friday Night Flights at Ristorante Panorama (14 N. Front St. 215.922.7800. localwineevents.com) are wine classes disguised as social mixers—with snacks. These weekly happy hour wine tastings, held every Friday night from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. feature tasting flights of six to eight wines highlighting a specific theme, region or importer. The wines are paired with cheese and hors d’oeuvres. Panorama’s wine director and sommelier William Eccleston and a guest winemaker lead interactive discussions and sipping. Advance reservations are recommended as the events often sell out.  

Cheap Eats 

Restaurant Week (centercityphila.org) continues today through Fri., Sept. 25, with a little break over the weekend. Over 100 city restaurants are offering $20 three-course lunches and $35 three-course dinners (minus tax, alcohol and gratuity). As a sign of the apocalypse, many parking garages are offering discounted parking. Take advantage of both deals!  

Chef David Katz has added a lunch special at Mémé (2201 Spruce St. 215.735.4900) that’s even more down-home than his already rustic menu. On Thursdays, for 11 bucks, David is dishing up two pieces of his crispy, savory fried chicken; fluffy homemade biscuits; a dash of his secret sauce (it’s hot!) and a tall, cool Miller High Life, iced tea or lemonade. Two dollars more will get you two seasonal sides like potato salad or cole slaw. David dreamt up this meal when he thought, simply, “I love fried chicken. Everyone loves fried chicken.”  

The Pita Pit (1601 Sansom St. 215.564.1080. twitter.com/phillypitapit) wants to reward you for all the time you spend Tweeting about what you’re eating. Join Pita Pit on Twitter and get weekly deal alerts for free cookies and drinks, discounted pitas ($3 lunch!) and news about their current artist-in-residence.  

This month, Jose Garces turns the downstairs at Distrito into The Cantina at Distrito (3945 Chestnut St. 215.222.1657. distritorestaurant.com) featuring a new menu with items under $10. Geared toward local students and neighborhood diners who want to grab drinks and snacks rather than a full meal, the menu includes a variety of tacos,  Mission-style quesadillas, inexpensive margaritas, Mexican beer specials and a new special cocktail menu. Upstairs at Distrito will remain dinner as usual.  

Openings 

Also on the Garces front, Jose rolled out the premium whiskey barrels with the recent opening of Village Whiskey (114 S. 20th St. 215.665.1088. villagewhiskey.com). Set at the corner of a newly established culinary quarter just off Rittenhouse Square, Village Whiskey features an extensive whiskey collection, speakeasy-era cocktails and Garces’ take on American bar snacks. To soak up the serious booze, diners can order savory housemade cheese puffs, a ground-in-house Angus beef burger with a side of duck fat fries in cheddar sauce, or the very cute and tasty house-cured pickles that come in its own mini Mason jar.  

In October, Midtown Village will have Zavino (112 S. 13th St. 215.732.2400), an Italian pizza kitchen and wine bar headed up by chef-partner Steve Gonzalez and featuring crispy pizzas from the wood-burning oven, seasonal pasta dishes and charcuterie. Zavino will serve until 2 a.m., classing up and paying tribute to the neighborhood’s late-night vibe.  

The villagers in Midtown are also awaiting the next offering from kickass eatery entrepreneurs and all-around cool couple Valerie Safran and Marcie Turney. The ladies are leaning toward Mediterranean and it’s sure to be as fab as their Bindi , Lolita , Grocery and Verde . Special Events 

Local food writers Tara Desmond and Joy Manning recently released Almost Meatless , a cookbook encouraging people to eat local and eat healthy without committing to complete vegetarianism. On Sun., Sept. 20, Sean and Kelly Weinberg of Restaurant Alba (7 W. King St., Malvern. 610.644.4009) host a four-course dinner event using local ingredients and recipes from the book. For $65 per person (plus tax and gratuity), diners get the full meal and a signed copy of the book. A wine pairing is available for an additional $25 per person.  

Support the Headhouse Square Farmers Market (Second and Lombard sts.  headhousemarket.org) by attending A Toast to Pennsylvania Wine, Cheese and Chocolate on Thurs., Oct. 15. The event will feature a dozen local favorites including Chaddsford Winery , Betty’s Tasty Buttons and Birchrun Hills Farm .  

Farmers Markets 

Vegan diva Christina Pirello simmers on the demo stage at the City Hall Farmers Market (City Hall Courtyard, farmtocity.org)  on Wed., Sept. 23, from noon to 1 p.m. This free presentation showcases both the market’s and Christina’s commitments to health and local eating.  

For your last-minute cranberry and sweet potato needs, six Food Trust farmers’ markets (Broad and South sts.; Cliveden Park, Chew Ave. and Johnson St.; East Lancaster, 308 E. King St.; Haddington, 52nd St. and Haverford Ave.; Northern Liberties, Second and Poplar sts.; Schuylkill River Park, 25th and Spruce sts.) will be open the day before Thanksgiving. Markets are open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., or until vendors sell out. ■

Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co.

Tue, 25 Aug 2009 17:42:57 PDT

Ben Franklin once said beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy. At Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co., the underground gin mill that opened in June with more buzz than a beehive, Ben’s quote is inscribed on page six of the handsome menu. But at this urbane speakeasy, cocktails, not beer, are king. 

Owners Michael Welsh and Christopher Doggett—they met while Welsh was bartending at Tir Na Nog—recruited one of the owner’s of N.Y.C.’s salacious Death & Co. to consult on the design and cocktails of their suave Philly saloon. Like Death & Co., finding Franklin  Mortgage is a bit of a challenge, so here’s a tip: Don’t look for bouncers, red carpets or VIP lists. Franklin’s game of hard-to-get is far more civilized: an inconspicuous basement-level entrance; a sign so small you can’t even call it that; a door of the heavy wood variety that one pries, rather than pulls, open. 

Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co. 

112 S. 18th St. 267.467.3277. thefranklinbar.com 

Cuisine: Cocktails. 

Hours: Daily, 5pm-2am. 

Prices: $5-$44 (for a punch bowl that serves up to 6). 

Atmosphere: Post-modern speakeasy that exudes effortless cool. 

Service: Peachy not preachy. 

Food: Coming, but for now the cocktails are as exquisite as they are affordable.

Air of mystery, consider yourself cultivated. Standing at that very door at 9 p.m. on a steamy Thursday, I was dreading what I guessed would be the single-malt mafia and a freezerful of douchesicles waiting on the other side. Instead, I found ad men and hipsters, lawyers and waiters on their night off, all reclining like Gatsby characters in a space as trim and chic as an Italian suit. Not a false eyelash of snobbery. Not a staff member anything less than welcoming. 

At Franklin Mortgage, there’s no vodka or Red Bull or food—the last embargo will be lifted next month, when DiBruno’s arrives with cheese and charcuterie—and the only bottle service is colonial Caribbean rum punch supplied by the carafe for two and bowl for six. The most coveted pieces of ice are the three types in the glasses— impurity-free classic Kold-Draft cubes, pieces crushed the size of Nerds and hunks hand-chipped off are delivered in 300-pound blocks—not on the bodies  of the clientele. 

Find the bar way in the back, a snug set-up lined with four stools and staffed by familiar-looking bartenders that’ll have you racking your brain to remember where you saw them last. Let me help: Barclay Prime, APO, James, Zahav, to name a few. They’re fast, turning out multi-ingredient drinks like the Billy Penn Club with aplomb. 

Consider the Club, a titillating tipple of Old Tom gin, lemon and dry vermouth under a frothy head of hard-shaken  organic egg white. The clever surprise is apple butter, imparting a subtle harvest flavor, autumn hue and viscosity that coats the tongue like sweet spiced marrow. 

With all the barstools occupied, I sipped that Club from a spot on a tufted blood-red leather banquette that would look at home in the Clue Billiard Room, and followed it up with Mucho Picchu, an innocent-looking citrus sparkler concealing the alcoholic smack of  Peruvian pisco. The entire staff is trained  for the floor as well as bar, meaning the informed, discreet servers at the marble tables will be able to easily describe the Luxardo Maraschino (an esoteric Italian liqueur made from Marasca cherries) whose sweetness alleviates the Mucho’s sting. 

By 10:30, free seats were scarce and a few drinkers had taken refuge at a standing-room-only marble bar rail. But the scene at Franklin Mortgage was as chill as the cocktails still to come: the Daisy de Santiago, an enchanting siren of Yellow Chartreuse, mint, lime and caramel-y 7-year-aged Nicaraguan rum; the refreshing Simó Cup, a Pimm’s Cup on the lam with strawberry and cucumber; and the Southside, a neo-mojito blend of Beefeater, bitters, lime and mint served straight up in a chilled Champagne coupe. 

The Center City Swizzle was the only elixir I wouldn’t order again. Based on Pennsylvania rye and accented with Velvet Falernum, a tiki liqueur crafted with allspice, vanilla and clove, it was cloying for a whisky drink. The balancing agents of hot (ginger), sour (lemon) and bitter (Angostura bitters) needed reinforcements to restore equilibrium to this confection. Fortunately, since all the cocktails cost a flat $12, one that doesn’t rock your world also won’t rock your wallet. 

For craft cocktails of a certain caliber, Franklin Mortgage’s are among the city’s most affordable. Three exquisite drinks and tip will cost you less than $45. In this drinker’s economy, I don’t know of a sounder investment. ■

PW's Guide to BYOs

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 19:51:01 PDT

In 1933, upon the repeal of Prohibition, the Pennsylvania state government feared some sort of post-depression era drunken apocalypse. As a result, it created the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board, establishing a death grip on the flow of liquor and affecting restaurants’ ability to profit from the Keystone State’s collective thirst. What’s an upstanding restaurateur to do if they can’t afford to follow the letter of the law and purchase a liquor license? Find a loophole—let the people provide their own alcohol. Bring your beers, walk your wine, and tote your tequila of choice to these law-abiding BYOBs.

$    Expensive
O    Outdoor seating
M    Mixers provided
V    Vegetarian options
C    Cash only

If You Miss the Good Ol’ Days
For a bit of old school charm, ask for Dominic at La Viola (253 S. 16th St. 215.735.8630). He’ll make sure you get the best possible table and recommend his favorite dishes with authentic enthusiasm. An appetizer that gets us enthused is the Grigliata Di Calamari, smoky grilled calamari marinated in lemon juice and olive oil. BYO a bottle of the very affordable Caldora Trebbiano d’Abruzzo or a sixer of Moretti. $ O V C

If You’re Bringing Your Sweetheart
The intimate Pumpkin (1713 South St. 215.545.4448) gets its name from the term of endearment the husband and wife co-owners use for one another. At this Graduate Hospital gem, you’ll be romanced by the affable staff and swept away by their daily seasonal love letter of a menu which recently included a cider-braised pork belly with grilled local peaches and salsa verde. Since the menu changes so often, you’ll need an adaptable wine like an Albarino or a Beaujolais-Villages if you prefer red. $ V C

If You Need Something From the Market
Mercato (1216 Spruce St. 215.985.2962) takes its food cues from the season as well as multiple Mediterranean destinations. The Italian-inspired short rib ragu with ricotta gnocchi, broccoli rabe and shaved locatelli would pair with a Mark West Pinot Noir that has more in your face fruit than a gay pride parade. For something a bit more summery, try the seafood stew cioppino. With a multitude of crustaceans, it’ll go well with its Vinho Verde countryman. $ O V C

If You Miss Japan
For a food groupie, there are few pleasures greater than eating at Daiwa sushi in Tokyo’s Tsukiji fish market. After eating fish that’s been freshly plucked from the sea, all other sushi bars tend to pale in comparison. At Izumi (1601 East Passyunk Ave. 215.271.1222) the sushi samurais source their seafood directly from that market. The hotate (sea scallop) is the sweetest this side of the Pacific and the tender tuna simply dissolves on your tongue. Take along a sixer of the Japanese wheat beer Hitachino Nest White Ale. $ O V

If You’re Still Looking for Latika
Down on 13th street, a couple of ladies are building their own little empire. At their Indian-inspired Bindi (105 S. 13th St. 215.922.6061), owners Marcie Turney and Valerie Safran serve up traditional dishes like chana masala chicken alongside the untraditional, like ghee-poached lobster and frisee salad. The flavors are forceful, so a food-friendly, fruity but flinty Gruner Veltliner would be a good choice, or bring a bottle of your favorite white liquor to mix in a pitcher of the pomegranate-ginger lemonade nimbu-pani. $ O M V S C

If You’re Adventurous
Malaysian cuisine is a mash-up of Malay, Southeast Asian, Chinese and Indian and the intensity of food flavors reflects it. At Banana Leaf (1009 Arch St. 215.592.8288), ask for some help navigating the menu unless you’re into crispy pork intestines. Their grilled beef or chicken satay served with peanut sauce is a good first course choice and a Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region of New Zealand like Nobilo has enough tropical fruit to walk hand and hand with this Malayasian specialty. V

PW's Guide To Happy Hour

Wed, 05 Aug 2009 07:28:34 PDT

In 1988 Ronald Reagan (quite the elder statesman) proclaimed August 21st be reserved for an annual observance of the aged. Celebrate Senior Citizens’ Day with Grammy and Gramps by channeling your geriatric. Drive slower, be a bit cranky, poop your pants and frequent a few of Philly’s best discounted early bird specials—or as the younguns refer to them, happy hours.

C    Craft beers
$    Otherwise expensive
O    Outdoor seating
P    Pub atmosphere
H    Have a few drinks here

If You’re Mulling It Over
We’re still debating whether the Piazza at Schmidts is soulless or awesome. But one thing’s for sure: The Swift Half Pub (1001 N. Second St. 215.923.4600) has a happy hour to soothe your work-weary soul. Get $1 off all drinks on weekdays from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., Saturday from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. and Sunday from 10 p.m. to midnight. We like their Ghost of Mary, which is best described as an inverted green tomato Bloody Mary. We hear cheesecloth and a bucket are involved. C O P H

If You Want a Raw Deal
The Oyster House (1516 Sansom St. 215.567.7683) has been restored to its former glory and beyond, thanks to the takeover by third-generation seafood restaurateur Sam Mink. The place is stylish, the staff is gracious and the oysters are as fresh as they come. On weeknights from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., the oyster du jour is a-buck-a-shuck. C $ H

If a Dollar Ain’t What It Used to Be
Aki Sushi & Sake (1210 Walnut St. 215.985.1838) has more discount deals than Crazy Eddie in the ’80s. From 4:30 p.m. to 7 p.m., this newly sexied-up sushi and sake shop has ice cold beers like Kirin Ichiban for $3 and cocktails (like the vodka and sake Saketini) for $5. You can also get half-price apps like shrimp shumai for $3 and sushi bar apps like yellowtail tartare with fish eggs for a fin. These prices are insaaaaane! H

If You’re Looking Forward to the Weekend
Take a step back in time and relive Philly’s restaurant renaissance at Friday Saturday Sunday’s Tank Bar (261 S. 21st St. 215.546.4232) from 5:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. on weeknights when the prices feel like they were assigned in the ’70s. All drinks are half-priced including their signature cocktails. (Try the Bumpy Sidecar, a twist on the original, rimmed with a sugar and crushed hazelnuts.) The snack menu is also easy on the wallet. We recommend the wasabi deviled eggs for $4. C H

If You Need a Bit of the Uppercrust
On weekdays from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., live the good life on the cheap at Lacroix’s Bar 210 (210 W. Rittenhouse Square) in the Rittenhouse Hotel. Enjoy $6 cocktails, $5 wines and a revolving menu of free (yes, free!) hors d’oeuvres like tempura vegetables with a creamy peanut butter dipping sauce or the very playful veal corndog. Consider it a stimulus package for your stomach. C $

If You Value Creativity
The prize for most inventive happy hour goes to Memphis Taproom (2331 E. Cumberland St. 215.425.4460). Every first Tuesday of the month from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., they do a Pittsburgh Transplant Happy Hour where you can get beers from the title town’s Penn Brewery and an Ode to a Primanti sandwich. If you’re not from the ’burgh, every first Wednesday get out your Sideshow Bob wigs because redheads get $1 off each draft. Just don’t order a redheaded slut; you might get slapped. C P H

Jack's Famous Bar

Fri, 17 Jul 2009 11:38:06 PDT

Local historian Ken Milano knows Philly’s hardscrabble Kensington section as well as anyone. He’s authored three books on the sprawling conglomeration of traditional blue-collar neighborhoods, the most recent called, “The History of the Kensington Soup Society.”

Milano can go on and on about the mid-20th century era, when textile mills, dye factories and other prolific Kensington concerns employed thousands for decades.

Back then, the storied intersection of Kensington and Allegheny was a vibrant marketplace perpetually teeming with commuters and shoppers. It was one of America’s busiest manufacturing sectors.

“There used to be a saying: ‘If you can’t get it at K&A, you can’t get it,” notes Milano. “That’s still true,” he adds after a pregnant pause, “but now you might not want what you can get there.”

Indeed, K&A began declining around the early ‘70s, and today it’s a cruel caricature of its former self. Toothless hookers lurk in the shadows cast by the Market-Frankford El. Drunks and dopers stumble into each other in broad daylight. Top-drawer men’s and women’s clothing shops -- as well as landmarks like Levin’s Furniture, Miller’s Drugs and the Midway Theater -- have long since given way to check-cashing agencies, dollar stores, nail salons and hole-in-the-wall Chinese takeouts.

Yeah, it’s depressing. But thankfully, there’s still Jack’s Famous Bar to cheer you up.

Jack’s Famous, situated on Allegheny Avenue just off K&A’s northwest corner, hasn’t changed much since the neighborhood became a punch line. In fact, as soon as you step inside you’re transported to a happier time – either by WOGL spinning oldies on the radio, by the large black-and-white photos featuring white-shirted, apron-wearing WWII-era barkeeps and their innumerable customers or by the classy countenance of Mel Adelman, who has been running this saloon with his brother Joe since the early ‘60s.

Running it old-school, we might add. And running it properly.

“If you run your place right, you don’t have any problems,” explains Adelman, who lives in Jenkintown and who’s smart enough not to harp on the changes to a neighborhood he still counts on for his livelihood. “Sure, it’s changed a bit,” he says of K&A. “Factories closed, stores moved out. But we still hold our own.”

When you check out Jack’s prices, you wonder how.

A seven-ounce pony bottle of Rolling Rock goes for $1.25. A draught pint of Bud will run you a whopping $1.75. Two delicious grilled hot dogs sell for $1.50. A tasty plate of homemade potato salad will set you back all of 75 cents.

You get the idea.

“We’ve always had cheap prices,” explains Adelman, whose father, Al (who died in 1961), purchased the bar from the original Jack in 1945 and never changed the name.

“We try to keep the prices down,” he adds, “but it’s getting kind of rough.” Adelman complains that the city keeps raising his operating costs, what with its 10 percent bar tax, license fee hikes and other hit-ups.

“That’s why a lot of bars around here have shut down,” he shrugs.

The faithful at Jack’s Famous – folks like Tarita Lacey of University City – would hate to see this watering hole go that route.

“I just like this place so much,” says Lacey, sitting alone in a booth and enjoying a cold glass of beer. The retired choreographer says she stops at Jack’s whenever she treks to K&A to do a little shopping. She says she likes a nearby produce stand and the big Walgreen’s at K&A, but nowhere near as much as she likes Adelman’s $1.75 liverwurst and onion sandwiches.

“This place has the best liverwurst and onion I’ve ever tasted outside of Manhattan,” Lacey says, explaining that she worked in New York City for 40 years. “I get brown mustard on it. Two sandwiches, one to eat here and one to take home. But today I was hungry. I ate them both here.”

She grins with lighthearted guilt as a Tony Orlando & Dawn record plays in the background.

Back in the day, Lacey might not have felt comfortable inside Jack’s, which during K&A’s glory years catered to shift-workers (read: men) just off the clock at the local mills and factories.

“It was really a man’s bar then,” Adelman says, adding that business was typically as brisk in the morning as during the happy-hour crush. “The overnight guys would start coming in around 7 o’clock in the morning,” he recalls. “That would be like dinnertime for them, and they’d stop in for a few drinks before going home to their families.”

Undoubtedly some of those guys would’ve gotten a kick out of Pat Horn, who doesn’t take any guff from her customers – and who nine years ago earned the distinction of becoming Jack’s first female bartender.

“Yep, I’m the first one,” says Horn, who grew up on nearby Ontario Street. “And since you want to know my age, I’m 61, okay? I won’t be 62 till later this year. Don’t push it, okay?”

She laughs, before adding that tearing off all those instant lottery games that hang from a shelf right behind her is getting to be a pain in the butt. “But they’re big sellers,” she says. “What are you gonna do?”

You get the feeling that Horn wouldn’t do anything about it if she could. There’s something about Jack’s Famous that allows you shrug off life’s little annoyances. At least for as long as you can make a great liverwurst sandwich and a cheap, ice-cold beer last.

PW's Guide To Brew Pubs

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 19:48:37 PDT

Pennsylvania has long been a beer lover’s commonwealth. Generations ago, lager-crazed German immigrants brought their hop knowledge to the Keystone State and Irish coal miners brought their unquenchable thirst. Nowhere is this fermented marriage more evident than in Philadelphia and its surrounding areas. This week we threw our livers to the wind and went in search of some serious suds pubs.

G    German-style beers
B    Belgian-style beers
E    English-style beers
C    Cook with beer
K    Knowledgeable staff
6    6 or more beers on

If Your Thirst is Sustainable
The local/sustainable bug has spread faster than swine flu and at Earth Bread + Brewery (7136 Germantown Ave. 215.242.6666) in Mt. Airy, they’ve got a serious case. That ideology bleeds into their house brews like the lambicy Alehoof Grut made with local herbs or their Blind Oyster Ale that gains a mineral quality from a brewing with old oyster shells. Outside the brewery, spent grain is used as compost at a local farm. Their wood oven-fired flatbread pizza menu is simple and stupendous. G B E K 6

If Your Head’s Nodding Cause Your Neck Knows It’s Phat
You’ll keep nodding your head in approval at Nodding Head Brewery & Restaurant (1516 Sansom St. 215.569.9525) as you experience the simple joys of a Monkey Knife Fight. This aromatic beer spiced up by the presence of ginger and lemongrass is a clean and crisp addition to a summer afternoon. On the unusual tap try their Ich bin ein Berliner Weisse, a low alcohol tart beer balanced with a drop of German traditional woodruff syrup. We prefer it au natural. G E C K 6

If You’re Sitting on the Dock of Baltimore Ave.
The Dock Street (701 S. 50th St. 215.726.2337) bohemians in West Philly are filling pints, bottles and growlers with beers to suit all tastes. The flagship Dock Street Amber Ale is a well-balanced American ale. The Satellite Espresso Stout, brewed with 50 pounds of fair trade espresso beans, would be a nice addition to a ham and eggs breakfast. And the assertive Simcoe and Amarillo hops give the Rye IPA an aggressive bite. Try one with a BBQ chicken pizza straight from their wood-burning oven. G E C K 6

If You Need a Doggy Bag
Conan O’Brien was the first to let Triumph the Insult Comic Dog off his Harry Potter fan bashing leash to shit on the rest of the world. We’re happy to report that at Triumph Brewing Company (117 Chestnut St. 215.625.0855), the only thing for you to poop on might be the hordes of Jerseyites that flood the stylized brew pub each weekend. Triumph’s beer runs the gamut from the oh-so-high gravity limit, two-per-customer Le Cirq, a “Belgian style ale with loads of fruity, earthy flavors.” When paired with fish and chips, the clean honey wheat beer made with local wildflower honey that adds an exceptional airiness. G B E C 6

If You’re Big in Media
The pro-wrestler-sized head brewer atIron Hill (30 E. State St., Media. 610.627.9000) was kind enough to give us an insider’s look at the beer making process. We stood in suds and stuck our noses in hops, then poured some mainstay beers down our throats—including their award-winning, bready but clean-finishing Vienna Red Lager. We were also privy to an early taste of their deliciously sour Berliener Weisse and rumor has it the brewer is also working on a porter aged in a framboise lambic barrel … should be tasty. G E C K 6

If You’re Doing Your Residency
The General Lafayette Inn (646 Germantown Pike, Lafayette Hill. 610.941.0600) is doing a brewer-in-residence program with Sly Fox later this summer, but don’t leave town for just that. Try the General’s signature brews like the Germantown Blonde, an accessible Kolsch style beer made with imported German malt and Dusseldorf yeast, or the caramel-y Sunset Red Ale or one of their ever-changing, cask-conditioned ales. G B E C K 6

Your Weekend in Beer

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 14:01:14 PDT

Beer-related events around town this weekend:

Summerween

Thursday, June 25, 9 pm-2 am; Sidecar Bar and Grille, 22nd and Christian.

Many Philadelphians have come to know the Left Hand Brewing Co. from the brewery’s East Coast face, “Left Hand Dan” Conway. He’s been known to shake hands with his left hand, shoot Rock Paper Scissors with his left hand, and his handsome mug even graces the company T-shirts. Now he’s bringing us our favorite holiday twice a year via “Summerween.” Prizes for costumes and the debut of Test Batch No. 2 of the 400 lb. Monkey, an American style IPA. He promises, “This shit will be bananas.”

YARDS Ale Yard Sale

Saturday, June 27, 10am-3pm (Rain date June 28); Memphis Tap Room, Memphis and Cumberland.

A treasure trove of other people’s trash will be available for purchase in the lot next to the Memphis Tap Room this Saturday. Dozens of junkers and junkettes are already signed up. Email leigh@memphistaproom if you want in. YARDS is offering their new re-formulated Saison for merchants. Come through, drink beer and buy things you probably don’t need but really, really want.

SPTR Wheat Beer Fest

Saturday, June 27th, 2pm-11 pm; South Philly Tap Room 15th and Mifflin.

South Philly Tap Room is hosting its third annual Wheat Beer Fest. It’s an indoor/outdoor thing. The Weather Channel is telling me 86 degrees and “times of sun.” I’ll take it. Throwback Hefes and Wits from over 30 breweries. And it looks like owner, John Longacre, took some advice from Crazy Eddie…the prices are insane! $3 drafts all day.

YARDS “Hops and Cops”

Sunday, June 28th, 1pm-5pm; YARDS Brewing Co., 901 N. Delaware Ave

The Yards gang is doing their part this Sunday- by raising money for the families of fallen Philadelphia Police Officers. $25 gets you a bonanza of food from Walter Staib of City Tavern, all the Yards your liver can handle and a bevy of local bands. They ensure it will be a family event with a “carny atmosphere.” Cotton candy, funnel cake and a Moonbounce. Casey Parker’s band, “Welcome to my Face” is playing. The lead singer describes the group as “The best band of all time… It’s metal that tastes like pussy.” This is a good thing for most of you. So definitely take the kids, but then take them for naps by 4.

Philly Beer Scene Magazine Launch

Sunday, June 28th, 2pm-7pm; World Café Live, 3025 Walnut St.

$10 suggested donation to the benefit of liveconnections.org

Philly Beer Scene magazine has landed. You can pick up the high-gloss publication at bars around the city. It’s the brainchild of four beer geeks from the Northeast who wanted a beer mag just for Philly. They’re toasting their new baby with a variety of local craft beers this Sunday. $10 donation gets you snack, a beer and entertainment from Fooling April. PAYG after that. Check out their website www.beerscenemag.com

It's Tony's Way, and Tony Means It

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 10:57:35 PDT

Antonio “Tony” Santiago Jr. is a born glad-hander, ebullient and irrepressible, much like his old employer, Ed Rendell. Before he bought the bar, Tony was then-Mayor Rendell’s driver and bodyguard, and while Tony is far shorter and less corpulent, they share the same warm physicality and democratic plenitude of belly. He works the barroom like a ward heeler, hugging the regulars, announcing that a peddler of bootleg DVDs has good stuff, squashing a beef from a guy who thought it was still Happy Hour.

Tony’s Way is in Kensington, on the corner of Front and Berks, in the shadow of the El. The bar is strong for the Phillies and Eagles. Baseball pennants and Birds’ posters cover the walls, and there’s a small table and chair in the corner that looks like a school kid’s desk, where Tony’s mother used to sit before she passed.

The crowd is mostly Puerto Rican, and much of the conversation is in Spanish, but there is also a sizeable contingent of blacks, some whites and lately a few Mexicans and skinny-pantsed kids. Hard experience has taught Tony that understanding between the races sometimes requires a helping hand–or two, as the case may be.

“You write in the paper that this bar is strictly welcoming to everyone, ” said Tony. “I don’t play that shit. When people say something stupid we correct them right away. I’ll throw you out myself, physically.”

“I grew up in a real racial neighborhood,” said Tony, by way of explaining how he came by this philosophy.

In the mid-1950s, said Tony, his family was among the first Puerto Ricans to move into the Spring Garden neighborhood, which today would be considered the Art Museum area. Back then, neighborhood boundaries weren’t grist for cocktail party debate, they were delineated by kids’ fists. They lived on 20th and Green; for a boy, stepping off the block meant venturing into hostile territory. There were Irish kids to west of them, and a black gang called the Moroccos controlled everything north of Fairmount Street. Even the Puerto Rican enclave at 17th and Wallace wasn’t entirely friendly.

So Tony and his friend Freddy got together their own little gang, 2-OH-G, for 20th and Green. Even now they say the name with a hint of bravado, as if their crew might still be a going concern. They’ve known each other for 53 years, said Freddy, who was sitting at the bar with his wife Nilda.

“I don’t like him,” joked Freddy. “He’s an asshole.”

Before Tony was Rendell’s driver he was highway patrol, part of the motorcycle drill team–27 years as a lawman, all told. He shows off the pictures on his cell phone: Tony with Angie Dickinson, Tony with Harry Belafonte, Tony with Gregory Peck. Then he opens a photo of the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer, from the day after his partner was murdered.

“He was off-duty. It was Christmas Eve, and he wanted me to go out for drinks, but I told him I was going to stay home with my family. He was in Woody’s Café on 56th and Woodland. A fight started in the men’s room, and he intervened. He didn’t know it was actually a robbery in progress, and he was shot two times in the back. The .45 caliber rounds went through his body and killed a young lady as well.

“The guy who did the shooting is appealing the death penalty right now. What year did he die? I don’t know. That’s something I wanted to forget. I carried his coffin. I carried Freddie. Officer Dukes. I keep that one picture for my memory.”

U.S. Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor was on the TV, and the bar grew quiet. “Last night there was nothing but tears in here,” Freddy said of the nomination announcement. “Not because she was due anything because she’s Puerto Rican, but for her accomplishments. Like her, everyone in this bar was raised on welfare.”

They’ve all made something of themselves, said Tony. “If you look around, 90 percent of the people here are professionals. They’re correctional officers, social workers, nurses, parole officers, L&I like Freddy here. He’s retired. He’s the only guy at L&I I trusted.”

Tony and Freddy talk to me about old days, about Juan Pora, the Cuban bus driver who brought them to Little League games and was killed in the Bay of Pigs, and the famous Kelly family that lived a few blocks away–Grace, the future Princess of Monaco, and her brother John, who died young of a heart attack, said Tony, because “he was so uppity, he ate only steak.”

This is their reward for sticking around, for not giving in to the lure of the suburbs, for being, as Nilda says, “the non-movers, the stay-puts.” They get to play halfball on Saturdays and dominoes on Sunday and sit around on a sunny Wednesday afternoon in May and reminisce with friends they’ve known for 50 years.

--------------------------------------------
Peter Woodall sacrifices his liver, and potentially his nose as he ventures into Philly's drinking establishments. A bartender and West Philly native, he has worked as a newspaper reporter for the Sacramento Bee and Biloxi Sun Herald. Got a tip on a colorful taproom? Email him at petewoodall@gmail.com.

Pick Six: Regional Beers

Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:00:18 PDT

Nodding Head Brewery, "Rudy’s Kung Fu Grip"

Years ago, Nodding Head honcho Curt Decker and former brewer Brandon Greenwood went to a friend's house to sample some homebrew. The brewer had a parrot, Rudy, who was small, but quite a handful. Greenwood thought it was cute when Rudy climbed up his leg to his shirt, ending up on his baseball hat...until he swung over the bill a grabbed a nostril with one talon, while holding onto the hat with the other. Rudy grabbed an eyebrow with his beak. “Tugging ensued, as nostril and eyebrow stretched further from their intended place,” says Decker. The African winger finally let go, but Dicker later named a big beer after the petite parrot with the Kung Fu Grip. It has a malty sweetness with a pinch of plum and a hint of spice from the Belgian yeast. And it goes great with dark bitter chocolate -- as long as Rudy’s not around. 11% abv.

Yard Brewng Co., "Brawler"

During Yards’ earlier years, they seemed to have only wrestlers working at their brewery. The “Brawler” was their nod to the grapplers. Originally, a nitrogenated red ale, the tribute beer has been reformulated as a ruby mild, designed to allow you to go “deep in to the fight” or night. There’s noticeable malt in the nose. Imbibers will get some biscuit and chocolate. Drinks easy and finishes clean. Brewery insiders recommend getting your digits on some English cheddar or taking it to a Phillies tailgate. 4.2% abv.

Sly Fox Brewing Co., “Dax” Maibock

On the first Sunday of every May, Sly Fox holds a “Bock Fest.” The German word for “goat” is “bock.” Goats are everywhere. Think dog park with goats. An oompah band plays, the accordion bellows and many bock lovers shout, Prost! Over and over again. So goats race, one wins, and that year’s Maibock is tapped and named for the victorious “Billy.” This year’s Maibock is DAX, a Star Trek: Deep Space Nine character. The beer is limited and is pouring at the brewpubs, Standard Tap and the recently-opened Swift Half. 6% abv.

Weyerbacher Brewing Co., “Zotten”

As many know from the Headhouse Square beer bar, Zot, “Zotten” means a fool or a jester. The madmen of Weyerbacher took their limited edition Belgian Pale Ale, originally named Alpha, and will be re-releasing it this June as Zotten. Look forward to notes of banana wafers, clove, and lemon pepper. 6% abv.

Dogfish Head Craft Brewery, "Palo Santo Marron"

Dogfish Head’s owner Sam Calgione once referred to this as his “desert island” beer during a Tria class. With barrel-aging becoming increasingly popular in the last three years, he had to push the envelope once more. Palo Santo is brewed in the largest wooden brewing vessel built in the states since pre-prohibtion. The contents, a malty, brown ale with hints of vanilla and caramel characteristics that come from fermenting in the thickest wood in the world, Palo Santo wood, meaning “holy tree.” The wood is from Paraguay. The beer is from heaven. 12% abv.

Iron Hill Brewery-West Chester, "Cannibal"

Iron Hill-West Chester head brewer Chris Lapierre brewed hundreds of thousands of gallons of Ironbound Ale and Pig Iron porter, but he never really named a beer something eccentric, something that got people thinking while sipping. Then he considered his love outside of brewing: cycling. He brewed a Belgian strong pale ale and found it fitting that he use the nickname of his favorite cyclist, also a Belgian, the much acclaimed Eddie Merckx. "That Belgian, he doesn't even leave you the crumbs... he's a cannibal," claimed a fellow cyclist when Merckx won the ’69 Tour de France. This “Cannibal” also brought Lapierre a few victories, as he won silver at the World Beer Cup and “Gold” at the Great American Beer Festival in Denver, Co. 7.5% abv.

All I Ask Is a Tall Glass and a Beer to Fill Her By

Fri, 05 Jun 2009 13:28:30 PDT

“Give my people plenty of beer, good beer and cheap beer, and you will have no revolution among them.” — Queen Victoria

Wise words from the queen. We especially like the advice that good beer should be cheap. Maybe it’s time the new administration took a hint from our former rulers and passed the 28th Amendment: ‘ The right to drink and bear change in the wallet.’

In honor of her long-gone majesty, we’ve sallied forth with two beers redolent of ages past:

Southampton Imperial Porter 7.5% ABV

Southampton Brewery, rather like Detective Holmes, prides itself on its “infinite variety” — of craft brews, that is.

Kunoichi Erica: Porter. The word stared merrily up at me from the menu at South Philly Taproom, calling to mind images from my youth, which, as a self-professed bibliophile, was spent mostly indoors sprawled on the floor with a good book. It was in the old English novels that visionaries like Charles Dickens first hinted to me of the comforting qualities of the red-cheeked cherub the adults termed as “beer.” At last, I was determined to try this staple of Victorian culture that so fascinated me at an early age and, like the fiddler in A Christmas Carol, to "dip my face in it."

As the waiter deposited his dark burden before me, the aroma of blackberry soda invaded my olfactory. It was soon complimented by the swift, bitter punch of black licorice. Overall, this porter reminded me of a hearty shepherd’s pie — there wasn’t enough bang to make it one of my favorites, yet it offered the warm delight that accompanies most comfort foods. My tongue was pleasantly insulated with the bitter taste of ale, which served as a steady companion throughout the meal. Southampton Imperial Porter will definitely be a beer I call on once the winter months roll back in, and I find myself in need of a bit of good, old-fashioned indolence from the Publick House.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

Whilst Kunoichi Erica was stomping through 19th century England, Rachel Riot was also there storming the heavy seas.

Aye matey hold onto your britches:

Heavy Seas Holy Sheet Abbey Ale 9% ABV

Rachel Riot: To sail the seas or wait ashore was my initial thought about this Abbey Ale. After a few minutes of debating and advice from the bartender I decided a 9% beer pint for $5 seemed like an opportunity this thirsty lass couldn’t pass up.

OH HOLY SHEET! This full-bodied beer with a dark ruby glow was a great choice! The aroma is sweet and somewhat flowery (which initially frightened the hell out of this floral hop hater) but the taste is mostly of tart fruits, spices, and hints of caramel. It’s a strong beer with a bite that tingles the side of the tongue but leaves a smooth and appealing aftertaste. If you want a bang for your buck this is the beer to buy! One or two glasses of this fine ale and you’ll be staggering like a lily-livered pirate after having a bit too much grog with his favorite wenches. Argh!

Rachel Riot and Kunoichi Erica are pseudonyms for the writers of Philadelphia ExBEERiment, where this post first appeared.

My Blue Heaven

Fri, 22 May 2009 10:46:39 PDT

The cheaper the crook, the gaudier the patter, said Sam Spade in the Maltese Falcon, and the same is true for bars. The more a tavern’s name promises, the less likely it is to deliver.

Take Foot’s Star Search Lounge on Ninth and Master. It seems quite likely that stars were neither searched for nor found there, otherwise the bar might still be in business.

Or My Blue Heaven on East Pacific Street in Port Richmond. The place wouldn’t qualify as heaven, blue or otherwise, unless you’d recently gotten out of seven months in city lockup out on State Line Road, like Norm had.

He was smoking Marlboro Reds and drinking Bud, and the cigarettes alone still felt like some kind of special dispensation. Cigarettes are prohibited at the Detention Center, the DC, as it’s called. The going rate for a single smoke is $7, said Norm, but only the big ballers, the major players bought them whole. Anyone else would get jumped before they could light up. He picked a butt from the ashtray and broke off the small piece of tobacco left above the filter.

“They break each cigarette into seven pieces about this size,” he said. “Each piece costs $2. They roll them up in toilet paper.”

Sold that way, one pack would bring in $280, which is a hell of a markup.

The miniature smokes are good for about two drags, which seemed more like torture than pleasure to Norm, so he avoided cigarettes altogether while he was there.

Norm worked in a metal shop near the bar, making iron fencing and grillwork. He’d come straight from the job, and his white undershirt didn’t have a spot of white left on it. He was a schlubby guy in his late forties, balding, with his hair cropped down to the scalp, and glasses so thick his eyes seemed to swim behind them. He looked like he belonged to those crew cut, shift work, row house Philadelphia days. But those days are long gone, and he said he’d gotten busted buying cocaine on the street in South Philly on the last day of his probation for a prior drug offense.

“DC, that ain’t no place for a white boy to be,” Norm said. “They would love you in there. I learned to live like an animal in DC.”

Norm said he’d never been to jail, that he was an average guy, a former merchant marine with a few street smarts from growing up on 23rd and Snyder. He survived because he learned fast. The rules were: Never order too much from the commissary. Never let anyone know how much money is in your bank account. Never back down from a challenge. Never yell for a guard. Don’t say a word more than you have to. Grease everyone as necessary. Wear boxer shorts in the shower.

The simplest things were incredibly complicated behind bars. Food, for example.

“They don’t feed you anywhere near enough–I lost 15 pounds in DC,” said Norm. “For breakfast you get a little bowl of oatmeal and a few tater tots. Lunch was a bologna sandwich and two cookies. For dinner you got six meatballs the size of marbles, mashed potatoes and an apple. Saturday’s a big day–you get a hard boiled egg.”

He’d tell the trickle of young white boys who came through not to load up at the commissary, but they usually didn’t listen.

“They’d come in with their bags full of goodies like Santa Claus, and they’d get rolled before they could even eat anything.”

Norm only ordered a little at a time from the commissary–swiss rolls and nutty bars. Before going to sleep, he’d hide what he didn’t eat under his mattress, and leave a couple in the socks over his bed for people to steal.

“Wouldn’t the swiss rolls get crushed?”

“Sure, but you know how it is. Better a flat swiss roll than no swiss roll at all.”

He learned to make a chi-chi, a thick plastic bag filled with rice, ramen noodles, crushed cheese curls, squeeze cheese and jalapenos. They’d cook it in a bleach bottle with the top cut off using what’s called a stinger–an electrical cord with its w ires exposed–to heat the water. They added salt saved from soft pretzels to make the water boil faster.

Jail was one test after another, said Norm, and the biggest one came right away. A female guard brought him over to D Block from quarantine and told him to grab the first bunk.

“Well, this was like the revolving bunk if you know what I mean, and there was somebody’s stuff on it, which I wasn’t going to touch, so she yelled ‘who’s stuff is this,’ and this big motherfucker says it’s his. He had the bottom bunk, I had the top.”

“There’s two foot lockers per bunk bed. I said is that one yours, and he said yes. I said what about this one, and he said that’s mine too.

D Block is an open room with 30 guys, all of them watching to see what Norm would do.

“I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw the guard’s back as she walked down the stairs, and in that moment I realized this is it, so I grabbed my balls and said ‘OK, motherfucker, if you want to go over a piece of plastic, let’s go!’ And the guy looked at me, and said ‘It’s cool.’ Bunkies are supposed to look out for each other, see, and he was the guy who ran the block.”

The day Norm got out, his girlfriend was waiting for him with beer, cigarettes and a cheeseburger with lots of bacon–they don’t serve pork in jail.

“She pulled the car under 95, and I got out and I just screamed as loud as I could because I was free. I ain’t never going back there.”

Norm said he was still using cocaine, though, and with three years of probation ahead of him, staying on the outside didn’t look like a very sure thing.

Jerry's Bar

Fri, 15 May 2009 09:40:59 PDT

Northern Liberties has been getting chichi for a while now, with its “green” condos and yoga studios and bowling lanes that tell you the speed of your ball. A few remnants of the old Slavic neighborhood survive, however. There’s the RUBA club and Pernitsky’s and Jerry’s Bar, a Ukrainian joint tucked between Second Street and I-95 on the corner of Laurel and New Market Streets.

The owner, Jaroslaw “Jerry” Lebin, says there are a lot of dives dirtier than his, and he’s right. Jerry lives upstairs and drinks downstairs and the bar looks like it could be his tchotchke-filled den. There’s a pool table, and photos of his parents and soccer teams he’s coached, and a plaque from when he was an All-Catholic soccer player at Roman in 1972. Below the TV is a bumper sticker that reads “The Navy Yard is...Americans working for America.”

There was a guy sitting at the bar drinking Obolon, a Ukrainian lager. His name was Andrew and he looked like Rod Blagojevich without access to a blow dryer. His hair was extraordinarily thick, as though he’d fed it Miracle-Gro, and his eyebrows appeared equally well-fertilized. He was wearing a cotton baseball shirt with three-fourths-length pink sleeves and the picture of a gecko on the front.

“You went to high school in Philadelphia,” he said with a clairvoyant’s certainty. I wondered how he knew, an old teacher perhaps, then realized it was a lucky guess.

“I went to Olney,” he said.

“I went to Central,” I said, “not far from there.” My answer seemed to please him immensely, and he offered me a toast. I told him I’d gone to Masterman for middle school, over on Spring Garden Street.

“The U.S. Mint used to be right across the street,” he said.

With that, Andrew pulled out a narrow manila envelope and dumped its contents on the bar with a clatter. There were a half dozen Peace Dollars from the 1920s, and two heavy silver coins from Mexico that appeared to be of more recent vintage.

“Pick one,” he said. “Learn. Educate yourself.” I felt like I was being given some kind of test, but I didn’t know what the question was. I chose a Peace Dollar from 1922.

“Buy me a drink,” he said, with a wave of his hand, as if to say it would be the smallest gesture of thanks imaginable. At $5 a bottle Obolon was the most expensive beer in the bar, and I wondered if the whole thing was a subtle grift. Maybe he wasn’t so crazy after all.

“Silver,” said Andrew. “All silver. Learn. Educate yourself. Silver is real. Fuck Wall Street with their made-up numbers. Ben Franklin used silver to endow the University of Pennsylvania. I was born in 1947. Forty seven is the number of silver in the periodic table. If you take the square root of 47 33 times you get the number one, which is me. Ones and zeros, that’s what computers use. They built the first computer at the University of Pennsylvania.”

He pulled out a plastic bag and dumped a jumble of silver rings, bracelets and necklaces of the bar.

“Pick one,” he said.

I told him I didn’t wear jewelry.

“What are you slow? Pick one.”

I shrugged and pointed to a broken, 25-year anniversary ring given to someone who had worked at the Mercer generating station.

“Keep it,” he said. He didn’t ask for a beer this time.

Andrew said he went to Vietnam in 1965, after high school. He performed a mock salute with brio and said something in French. He said he’d served in three armies, including the French Foreign Legion. After he got back he worked in a plant that made aluminum furniture, then in an architect’s office. Then came the Congo, he said.

“So what did you do in the Congo?”

Andrew covered his face with his hands.

“I took pictures, aerial photography.”

I told him that didn’t sound so bad. He looked like he was about to cry.

“It was for oil, minerals, the rape of the land,” he said, and covered his face with his hands again.

Andrew got up to play the jukebox, and Jerry came over.

“How’s our secret agent,?” he said.

Jerry said the Foreign Legion stuff was dubious at best, but that Andrew really had gone to Vietnam.

“He was doing photography, aerial reconnaissance. The war fucked him up.”

We were talking about how Edison High had more casualties in ‘Nam than any school in the country when a skinny young guy came in with a pretty blonde in high-cut jean shorts. He was wearing nerdy-cool glasses, the kind with thick, black frames, a tight t-shirt that just covered the tattoos on his neck, and tan Hush Puppies.

Andrew told the kid he went to high school in Philadelphia the same way he had with me, and I wondered what the odds of that were in the new Northern Liberties–getting pretty slim, probably.

The kid looked puzzled.

“I went to Central Bucks West,” he said, and went back to watching the Sixers game.