The Cradle of LiBEERty: Baahston - Part 1

Earlier this year, Brewslut and I discovered an opportunity to do a bit of traveling in mid-March when we realized she had a Friday and Monday off at school. We'd originally decided to take advantage of the long weekend and get back to Asheville, NC, for a long-awaited return visit. As it turns out, we switched gears and opted to head in the opposite direction, setting our GPS coordinates to Boston, Mass. While we'd visited Boston a few times throughout the last decade, I still hadn't had the opportunity to visit my "band kid" Joey, who's currently enrolled at the prestigious Berklee School of Music. Once he offered to have us stay at his apartment (with the added selling point of a Queen-sized bed), it was a no-brainer.

Well, perhaps it wasn't a "no-brainer," as Brewslut kindly reminded me that the weekend in question fell over St. Patrick's Day.

Yeah? So what?

She then enlightened me to the fact that Boston hosts one of the - if not THE - largest St. Patty's Day parades in the country. Suddenly, this image popped into my noggin:

Dumb drunk bitches... they're everywhere on St. Patty's Day!

And with that my anxiety kicked into high gear.

I had forgotten that Boston is a mecca for drunks, and a large cross-section of these people happen to be Irish (or at least they claim to be Irish for one day a year). I'll admit that I love parades about as much as I do prostate exams. Granted, I've never had a prostate exam, so I can only imagine. Perhaps it's because I was subjected to participating in parades throughout high school due to my involvement with the marching band. So parades can eat a bowl of dicks. Same goes for fireworks and any other number of activities involving large groups of people that amused me when I was five years old. Now that I'm older, I've come to despise the inconvenience and impending traffic nightmare caused as a result of these activities. Worst of all, the majority of people who celebrate this "holiday" are generally people looking for an excuse to wear lame green attire, act like dipshits, and get completely shellacked. Save for the lame green attire, don't most folks carry on like that on a daily basis, anyway?

And with that, I equated going to Boston during the St. Patty's Day parade like going to State College during Penn State's game against... well, whoever is their rival these days. Except worse. Much worse. Certainly way worse than any prostate exam administered by Bill Cosby with a scorching case of "INSERT FAVORITE STD" here. To illustrate my point further, I'd like to direct you to Exhibit B:

This is NOT my wife!

A picture speaks a thousand words, right? Well, this one only speaks in drunken gibberish and slurred run-on sentences.

But I digress.

Despite my reservations, we were off for a 4-day retreat to New England, home of the hazy juice bomb, brah! Shortly before we set sail, I was relieved to find that we wouldn't be staying near the parade, nor would we be visiting any breweries on the parade route. Praise Jeebus!

Perhaps this would be a good segue into something a bit more uplifting. As I was planning our route to Boston, I was ecstatic to learn that we'd be passing right through Woodbridge, CT, home of New England Brewing Company. I'd enjoyed NEBCO's beers for many years, but alas the brewery had always eluded me. Well folks, we were about to cross this one off our ever-growing brewery list.

NEBCO, yo!

When we arrived at NEBCO, I had totally forgotten about one of its most amazing beers, Fuzzy Baby Ducks. As if they needed another outstanding offering in its arsenal of top-notch beers. How could I forget about this absolute gem of a beer? Fuzzy Baby Ducks - and how can you not love that name, by the way - began life through NEBCO's single hopped beer club. Using Citra hops exclusively, this little IPA packs a huge punch of mango, papaya, and citrus fruit. It's bright, juicy and cute as a button. Bring on the ducks, I say!

Pleeps posing with Fuzzy Baby Ducks.

While we're on the subject of delicious IPAs, it was time to revisit another NEBCO favorite, the infamous G-Bot. It's fantastic flavor aside, this beer has also gained infamy due to its original name, Gandhi Bot. This sought-after Double IPA packs in a whole mess of hops in order to churn out a bombastic citrus taste full of orange peel, mildly dank whiffs of pine, and a deceptively easy-flowing flavor. There's just enough haze in this one to satisfy the "Hops Heads" while it's not to bitter/crazy for first-timers to enjoy this fruity brew.

Since I'm a sucker for coconut porters, I gravitated to a beer called Coconut Joy next. After a few hoppy beers, I crave something dark and malty. This particular porter is brewed with toasted coconut, cocoa nibs and vanilla for a bittersweet finish with plenty of coconut zing. It set the stage nicely for our next beer, Coffee Breath. An Imperial Coffee Oat Milk Stout (ICOMS for short), Coffee Breath is big on coffee flavor and aroma thanks to its malt bill featuring five different roasts along with roasted barley and tons of oats. A pinch of lactose sugar gives the beer a rich and creamy texture, while a blend of Dominican and Sumatran coffee from One World Roasters brings it all together. In NEBCO's words: "Imagine a fudgey chocolate brownie dipped in a smooth, locally roasted cup of joe."

Aside from that, what a great, evocatively named beer this is. After three cups of coffee, one definitely develops what could be described as "coffee breath." I mean, it's not like it's a bad thing like onion breath or cigarette breath, right? With so many beers available, I had to make a decision between this and another coffee stout, so I asked one of the servers for a recommendation. Based on her description of the two, it was obvious that I'd be ordering Coffee Breath, a higher ABV, more viscous, coffee-forward stout compared to the smaller, more carbonated Kewl Beans.

Decisions... decisions... decisions!

The pièce de résistance came at the end of our visit. I knew I'd be saving the best for last with a pour of Mexican Cake Imperial Stout Trooper. This beer is about as cock diesel as it gets! I've long been privy to the awesomeness that is NEBCO's Imperial Stout Trooper, a wickedly good Russian Imperial Stout with a name that pays homage to that wacky group of white metal uniform-wearing Imperial sheep who answer to Darth Vader. Talk about geeking out! Whoever's idea it was to combine beer and Star Wars struck gold with this concoction. Sadly, NEBCO was forced to change the beer's original label ten years ago due to a cease and desist order from one Mr. George Lucas (yes, the same George Lucas who also thought it was a good idea to make Greedo shoot first), thus forcing the brewery to create a new label. Here's the original, in case you've never seen it:

NEBCO responded with a righteous "F you" to Lucas and Co. by not only displaying the cease and desist letter in its tasting room, but also tweaking the label - complete with Groucho Marx disguise - to the following:

Eat that, you billionaire who subjected fans to the red-headed stepchild of the Star Wars franchise, Jar-Jar Binks. Hell, not just Jar-Jar, but the entire series of prequels. Well, at least the first two; Sith was pretty badass.

OK... let's just turn the Bantha around and get back to the beer. This beer was special; so special it might just be THE beer of the trip. This Mexican cake version is easily right up there with the best of them - Westbrook, Abraxas, Hunahpu's, etc.). This beauty was balanced to perfection! Not too cinnamon-forward, not too spicy, not too chocolatey. Simply put: amazing! Pleeps agrees, don't you, buddy?

Pleeps can have his cake and drink it, too!

We forgot our growler and NEBCO doesn't have a crowler filler. D'oh! We wouldn't be taking home any fuzzy little ducklings with us, unfortunately. Still, they had a decent amount of take-out beer available, including a new-to-me DIPA called Corialis as well as BBA Imperial Stout Trooper. I loaded up and we went on our merry way.

NEBCO's bitchin' "Sea Hag" El Camino!

Since we were in such close proximity to Tree House, we decided to just swing by and grab a case of mixed cans. Tree House is very particular with its beer sales, and it turns out that they don't even do draft sales on Fridays. So we figured we'd pop in, grab some cans, and be on our merry way. We arrived to find a more-impressive-than-anticipated brewery. Talk about the house that Julius built! It's staggering to think that these guys started out in a garage just a few years ago. As we approached the parking lot, we noticed a long line of patrons winding through the courtyard and into the parking lot. Turns out the wait was over an hour, so we basically just looped the parking lot and left. The scene reminded me of a string of sad Cold War-era Russians standing in line to get their toilet paper ration for the month. You know what I say to that? F that hoodwink!

Our next stop brought us back to Framingham, home of Jack's Abby and its off-shoot wood-aging program called Springdale. Situated in the same building as Jack's Abby, Springdale features nothing but sour beers and barrel-aged creations. They even have a few offerings tapped straight from the barrel, much like Cascade Barrel Room in Portland, OR. When I discovered this place on Brewery Maps, I hadn't yet made the connection that it was affiliated with Jack's Abby. Regardless, I like Jack's Abby quite a bit, so it was an easy decision to include this new-to-us place on our itinerary. 

Nuthin' but wood, baby!

In the purest sense of serendipity, I discovered that Springdale was hosting a pop-up vinyl event at 5 p.m. on the day we were visiting. We arrived just shy of that, but the vendor was already set up and ready to peddle its wares. I managed to find a few reasonably priced titles to round out my collection, including the much sought-after self-titled release from the 70's band, Hookfoot. Go ahead, say it. "Who?" That's why we've got Wikipedia, folks!

Straight outta da wood!

Like Cascade Barrel Room and Green Flash's Cellar 3, this is definitely the place for a sampler flight. With so many unique, wood-aged creations, it's impossible to try everything without getting smaller pours. We each got a flight. Here's mine:

• What Ami?! - Collaboration with the Canadian brewery Le Saint Bock. This mixed fermentation beer blends Springdale's Amirite?! IPA with a kiwi barrel-aged sour. Dry-hopping with Amarillo creates a refreshingly acidic and tropical explosion of flavors. 
• Barrel #2028 Double Barrel Grape - 37-month-old sour golden lager aged in chardonnay barrels then racked into red wine barrels with Cabernet Franc grapes from Volante Farms. They had me at Cab Franc, my favorite style of wine!  
• Not Stirred Series: Side Rig - Cognac barrel-aged amber boasting notes of orange, caramel and cream soda to elicit the tart but sweet cocktail known as a Sidecar.
• Grain Reaper - Barleywine brewed with locally malted oats from Valley Malt in Hadley, MA, and aged for seven months in bourbon barrels.

Pleeps has taken flight!

Whoa! So many flavors to soak in with this flight, which was all over the map. I'd probably have to give the nod to Double Grape for its deep vinous quality and complexity. The Side Rig was quite good - and unique - as well, and did a fine job mimicking the cocktail after which it's named (although I've never had one before).

Pleeps looks like a giant from this angle!

We decided one final beer was in order before we had to move on. That beer turned out to be Brigadeiro, a stout brewed with Brazilian coffee, cacao, oats, and milk sugar. It was pretty tasty but I preferred the sours and barrel-aged beers, which is actually pretty rare for me. Overall, Springdale is an awesome facility. They're churning out some really creative, well-executed sours without being pretentious or "hipster-y" in the presentation. The vibe reminded me of a working class pre-Prohibition beer hall. Sampling beer straight from the barrel was a real treat as well. All in all, it was an enjoyable visit, and we actually spent a bit more time here than we had anticipated. 

Pleeps loves to monkey around.

I really wanted to hit Turtle Swamp, the next brewery on the agenda, if only for the cool name. Everyone knows I love goats, donkeys, elephants, monkeys, dogs, etc. but I also love turtles. Go figure. We factored in enough time for one beer each before heading into Boston proper to meet up with Joey for dinner.

Nice night in the swamp.

After perusing the selection, I decided on a beer called Serendipitous. As the name implies, this beer came about as a happy accident. Turns out the brewer added CaraPils malt rather than Caramel Pils malt. This resulted in a really pale ale. Turtle Swamp developed the beer a bit further in subsequent batches, but the name stuck. It was a pretty nicely-balanced pale ale overall with a kiss of citrus fruit and bitterness in the finish.

Pleeps is turtley enough for any turtle club. Turtle... turtle!

Brewslut settled on FINE (A Sour Beer), a low-ABV sour ale (as the name implies) brewed with hibiscus. While it wasn't very sour at all, it still offered a pleasant flavor. Meanwhile, we moseyed into the small back room, as there were no seats up front and it was a bit too chilly outside (although several customers were enjoying the slightly unseasonable warmth). So we parked at a barrel-turned-table to enjoy our beers. There were two couples occupying a pair of nearby tables. One of the couples had children in tow. They were enjoying a nice conversation, and the couple with children mentioned a few times how they're not like "typical" parents who let their kids ransack a place of business (i.e. a brewery). I mean, they still allowed the kids to crawl around on the floor, under tables and chairs, and move stuff around. They just let the kids do it at arm's reach. My take? Unless the kid is sitting at the table behaving herself, she's probably up to no good. It's not the responsibility of the brewery to keep your kid occupied. There's nothing to do but drink liquid that you shouldn't drink until you're 21 years old (though some would debate that). And that's the problem I have with bringing kids to a brewery. Unless they are going to act like an adult, do everyone a favor and pay a 14-year-old girl ten bucks an hour to babysit (aka bang her boyfriend in your kid's bed) for you.

Steps down from soapbox.

Of course, one could argue that drunk adults are just as bad - or even worse - than ill-behaved children running rampant through a brewery. The fact that we'd likely be encountering a myriad of drunk adults this weekend wasn't lost on me, either. Oh the irony.

Sweet garage door mural at Turtle Swamp.

By this time, we were ready for dinner. Joey suggested the nearby Pour House Bar & Grill, a place he frequents largely due to cheap bar food and a good drink selection. Sign me up! I housed my order of chicken fajitas and washed it down with a can of Cloud Candy IPA by Mighty Squirrel Brewing. I'd noticed Mighty Squirrel when I was researching breweries to visit, but it wasn't in the cards for a visit. So I was happy to find one of its offerings locally. It was a sweet, hazy IPA with notes of candied orange and tropical fruit.

We drug Joey to a brewery I'd wanted to hit that night called Backlash. Joey mentioned it was situated in a sketchy part of town rife with crackheads and frequent shootings and stabbings. When we arrived, there was a security guard at the door (which was locked) and I felt like I was going to prison for a conjugal visit. He was pleasant and funny, though, which lightened the mood a bit.

Inside, the place was stark and dimly lit but had a clean, modern flair. It was also quite large and included a loft-like area, which was actually the larger of the two public spaces. The lower level included some games, likely to keep the kiddies occupied while mommy and daddy lose their inhibitions and work up the urge to bang later that evening.

The dimly lit atmosphere wasn't indicative of the beer selection, though, which was scant with dark beers. The four beers available included two IPAs, a pilsner and a cream ale. I opted for Bad Decision Juice, a Session IPA hopped with Citra, El Dorado and Idaho 7, as I needed a moment to regain my composure. This 4.7% ABV easy drinker did just the trick. We had arrived a few minutes shy of last call, so this turned out to be a quick one-and-done visit. Plus we didn't get shanked in the parking lot. Woo hoo!

Pleeps chillin' at Backlash.

We decided to squeeze in a visit to Cheeky Monkey since it was in close proximity to Joey's apartment. Pleeps was super-excited to visit this place, but unfortunately it is situated in the meat market district and all of the drunken clowns decked out in green were on the prowl. We actually had to stand in line for about 15 minutes before we could get in. I felt like we were outside Studio 54 waiting to canoodle with Michael Jackson, Diana Ross and Gloria Gaynor while snorting coke off of one of the Village Peoples' firm, white butt-cheeks. The irony was that the beers weren't worth waiting for. Still, it was good to add yet another notch onto our brewery list. One more down and about 6300 to go. Hey, that's almost 10%. We'd be doing a lot better if it was still 2016, because the number of craft breweries has doubled in the last three years. Fuckin' A!

The pickings were pretty slim, so I went with Down Undah, and IPA combining Australian Galaxy hops and an assortment of American hops. Overall, it was light with a hint of pine and floral notes, but otherwise pretty forgettable. The star of the show here was the people-watching and conversations with Joey and his Berklee cohorts, Connor and "Aussie" Phil, the latter of whom attended Ffej of July last year.

Stay tuned as we continue our jaunt through Boston and do our best to avoid all of the drunk leprechauns peppering the city over this particular weekend while still maintaining a hefty drinking schedule. Until next time...