The Publick House Won’t Let You Down

The Publick House
1648 Beacon St.
Brookline, MA




In case you haven’t noticed, as Suit757, I get around. I’ve been to some of the coolest bars and restaurants in all 50 states.

So you’re probably wondering, “Suit757, don’t you ever get a bit jaded about all these exciting places to eat and drink?”

And I have to admit, there is a bit of that “been there, done that, bought the shirt” mentality that can seep into my road weary consciousness. (I have an entire closet full of t-shirts.)

But there are still a few places in America I get excited about.

REAL excited.

I’m talking school-girl-at-a-Justin-Bieber-concert excited.

Deprive-myself-for-24-hours-in-advance, pack-a-supervalue-pack-of-BC-Powders and clear-my-schedule-the-following-morning kind of excited.

The Publick House in Boston gets me THAT KIND of excited.

The dark candle-lit Old World ambiance of this place and world class beer selection make it a premiere destination for serious beer drinkers.

Not “I’ll take something that tastes like Blue Moon” beer drinkers.

I’m talking REAL SERIOUS beer drinkers.

The best beers brewed on Planet Earth. Beers you can’t find anywhere else. Poured into appropriate glassware specifically designed for each beer.

Beers like Houblon Chouffe, Piraat and Gulden Draak, my three favorite beers from Belgium – a proud specialty here at The Publick House.

Belgian beer tastes different from beer brewed anywhere else in the world.

Usually well balanced between hops and malt, Belgians typically let the alcohol and yeast shine through with a sweet fruity taste.

The Publick House is so famous for its wide selection of draft Belgian beer, that it really is obligatory to begin with one.

My Houblon Chouffe looked beautiful sparkling in its specially designed glassware in the fading twilight. Crisp and refreshing, but with a powerful 9% alcohol punch, it slid right down.

Despite the “Dobbelen IPA” label on the Houblon Chouffe glass, this Belgian is smoother and less hoppy than its more aggressive American Double IPA brethren. It may claim the IPA label, but Houblon Chouffe is still a Belgian at heart.

As if to test my theory, I moved on to the American microbrew portion of The Publick House beer menu next and ordered a double IPA called “Mongo” brewed by up-and-coming San Diego brewery, Port Brewing.

Now that’s a hoppy kick in the pants!

The Publick House is known for its fresh Belgian beer on draft, but sometimes a bottle-conditioned Belgian can be ever better.

So I opted for a Belgian classic, St. Bernardus Abt 12, a dark but fruity 10.5% alcohol package of liquid heaven.

After three high potency beers, I desperately needed something to line my empty stomach.

While I’m sure the rest of the food on The Publick House’s menu is delicious, I’ll never know. That’s because I always get the famous gourmet mac and cheese made with five types of Belgian cheeses melted into a crock full of orrechetti pasta.

I occasionally wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat dreaming of this dish.

Best of all, you can add meat, seafood or vegetables to your mac and cheese for a truly over-the-top dish of comfort food.

Most folks pick one add-on.

But not Suit757.

Maybe it was the three near double-digit alcohol beers on an empty stomach, but I just couldn’t decide.

Top notch bacon? Andouille sausage? Caramelized onion?

“What the hell. Give me all three!”

My waitress looked a bit stunned as she scribbled my order and tallied all my extra add-ons.

I have to admit, her reaction gave me a bit of buyer’s remorse.

Would it be too much meat? Too greasy? Too over-the-top?

Would it be worth nearly twenty bucks for a modest-sized crock of college student fare?

When she slid my steaming mound of gooey cheese, meat and pasta under my nose, all those apprehensions disappeared into the night.

Worth. Every. Penny.

Holy St. Bernardus!

This was one of the most fantastic dishes that has ever graced my taste buds.

The melty cheese and noodles were luxurious. The bacon added a smoky essence to every bite while the andouille sausage contributed a zesty kick of spice.

Best of all, the caramelized onions balanced everything with a sweetness that elevated this dish to the Comfort Food Hall of Fame.

I knew I needed a special brew to accompany my self-created masterpiece.

Something smoky and sweet and savory, just like my gourmet mac and cheese.

I found my answer deep in the bowels of The Publick House six page beer menu.

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier Urboch.

Translation: Kick-ass German smoked beer!

Yes. The beer is smoked.

Well, the malt in the beer is smoked, more specifically.

If you are a beer connoisseur looking to try something different, you have to try a good German rauchbier like Schlenkerla Urboch.

Like smoked country sausage in bottle, rauchbiers are almost exclusive to the German town of Bamberg – and The Publick House, luckily for me.

My first whiff as I poured this dark beer into my glass instantly brought me back to some long ago Boy Scout camp fire.

Unlike some American smoked beers I’ve experimented with in the past, this real deal German smoked beer doesn’t skimp on the smoke.

It’s like drinking a pack of Marlboros. But in a good way.

And the perfect compliment to my bacon and sausage studded mac and cheese.

At this point in the evening, it was WAY past the point of time to retire to my hotel room.

Then I remembered that I was taking public transportation this evening.

Transporting my drunk ass back to my hotel room is one of the few good uses I can imagine for massive taxpayer subsidized enterprises like Boston’s venerable “T”.

“Hey, this is MY piece of the bailout,” I rationalized to myself as I perused the menu for one good night cap.

Sensing a rapidly approaching law of diminishing returns, I knew I should tone down the exotic flavor and high alcohol for something my altered palate could still appreciate.

So I opted for a classic German pilsner, Kulmbacher Edelherb Premium Pils, served on draft in a traditional glass German stein.

American mass-produced watered down light beers like Miller Lite claim the “pilsner” label, but that’s like referring to SPAM as an ethnic delicacy.

Kulmbacher is what a pilsner REALLY tastes like.

Crisp and dry, with a nice hop kick, it was a perfect ending to one of the greatest beer drinking experiences of my life.

As I stumbled through the Brookline darkness to the Green Line station a block or two away, I had a big sudsy smile on my face.

Despite all the build up, excitement and anticipation, my evening at the world famous Publick House lived up to my heightened expectations.

Exceeded them, in fact.

That’s what makes The Publick House a true “bucket list” destination for serious beer drinkers the world over.

So I’m telling you. If you love beer like I do, get here now. Plan your vacation around it.

Even the most jaded among us won’t be let down.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Lights Out and Bottoms Up in Bean Town

American Craft

1700 Beacon St.

Brookline, MA

As much as it pains me to admit it, Yankees do a get a few things right.

Like beer.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love my wild-boar-killing, tobacco-spitting, fellow NASCAR-watching redneck friends dearly, but sometimes I just get tired of drinking massive quantities of watered down Coors Light.



That can be a problem when you live in the South – the last corner of America to embrace good beer.



Of course, that’s one of the advantages of being Suit757.



When I get tired of the ubiquitous selection of Bud Light, Coors Light, Miller Lite and Yuengling, it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be jetting off to some region of America where – by default – they have a more adventurous taste in cold suds.



Like Massachusetts.

Okay. You’re right. The Peoples’ Republic isn’t in America.



But there is one reason to break out your passport, Boston-English translation booklet and get your vaccinations updated.


Really good beer.



Specifically, the world-famous Publick House in Brookline, just a few “T” stops down the Green Line from Fenway Park.



Baseball fans have Cooperstown. Terrorists have Mecca. Constitution-shredding leftists have the Lincoln Memorial.

But beer drinkers have the Publick House.



I have one of those big coffee table books in the Suit757 compound titled “Beers of the World”. The Publick House gets a mention.



Like I said. World. Famous.



So imagine the soul-crushing disappoint when I discovered that a localized “brown out” knocked out the Publick House kitchen. No hot food. No gourmet lobster mac and cheese.



Bummer.



Maybe Barney Frank, who lives nearby, was too preoccupied to pay the electric bill. Or he was testing out his “Cap and Tax” scheme he loves so much.



The good news is the beer was still cold.



As you have probably figured out by now, the Publick House is not just another one of the “tap houses” that pop up in the light-in-the-loafers sections of self-styled sophisticated metro areas where beer snobs can grab a couple flavors of local microbrews.



No. The Publick House offers a selection of the VERY BEST beers the world has to offer.



You know that mouth-watering book on my coffee table? You can get those world class, double digit alcohol, grow-hair-on-your-chest beers right here.

Most of them come from Belgium. The country that is to beer drinkers what Greece is to lazy, rioting, living-on-the-dole, bailout-begging slackers.



My first pour was Houblon Chouffe Dobbelen, a more crisp, hoppy, refreshing version of the typical potent high alcohol Belgian beers.



As you might guess by now, the Publick House takes beer drinking seriously. They even pour your chosen Belgian beer in a glass specifically made by and imported from the brewery you select designed specifically for the beer it contains.



I think that’s pretty cool.



Normally, the only disadvantage of ordering fresh-from-the-brewery draft beer is that you don’t get to peel the label off and stare at the cool artwork that accompanies bottled beer.



Here you get the best of both worlds. I get fresh 10% alcohol beer on draft and I can check out the cool elf dude on the specially-made glass.



The fact that I’m getting excited about staring at a cartoon elf drawing might be a sign that the 10% is getting to me. Oh, boy. This is only my first one.



I’ll blame it on my empty stomach.



Clearly, I can’t stay here long. I’m going to need to line my stomach with something other than liquid barley.



But I can’t leave this world famous bar without trying at least one other brew. One I’ve never had before. One they will never serve at the Hammerhead redneck beach bar two blocks from my home.



I chose the Fore Smoked Stout, not from Belgium, but “imported” from the Dark Horse Brewery in Michigan.



As I’ve written here before, smoked porters are a unique and surprisingly diverse niche for beer connoisseurs like me. The malted barley is smoked. Kind of like what a Guinness would taste like in a really smoky Irish pub – before Ireland banned smoking in pubs, that is.



This Michigan version was tasty, but not that smoky at all.

By this point, I really, really needed some non-liquid sustenance.



Fortunately, the folks at the Publick House recently opened up a sister restaurant one block away called American Craft. Their power was on, the kitchen was open and the place was packed. On a Monday night.



As I understand it, American Craft originally was going to serve Southern style barbeque with a beer selection tilting more toward American “craft brews” rather than beer imported from the Old World. Hence the name.



But Barney and his homo neighbors apparently complained about the smoke.



Yeah. Damn Yankees.



My advice to barbeque craving Bostonians? You’re just going to have to travel to America if that’s what you want.

So I ordered the next best thing. The prime rib sandwich.



Meanwhile, I perused the chalk board of obscure microbrews like a deprived Yankee at a wet T-shirt contest on a Florida spring break.



Mmmm. So much good stuff. So little time.



My first choice was from the most experimental brewery in America – Delaware’s Dogfish Head. Them boys down in Dewey Beach will brew anything. And it usually turns out great!

My Dogfish Head Burton Baton was an imperial IPA with double digit alcohol content and a strong, delicious taste. Four star!



That beer is the personification of why places like the Publick House and American Craft are so much fun.



There just aren’t many places on the planet with such a wide selection of obscure high quality beers. I’m talking beers that have never before graced Suit757’s liver.



Beers like Sixpoint Oyster Stout, brewed in Brooklyn with real oysters!

Extra thick, with a briny texture, this stout had a nice hearty flavor.

“Give me oysters and beer for dinner every day of the year, and I’ll feel fine. I’ll feel fine” – Jimmy Buffett.



Somehow, I doubt this is what Jimmy had in mind. But you know what? I’d bet he’d love it! I know I did.

Especially accompanying my prime rib sandwich and fries.



The beef was braised and shredded, smothered in melted cheese. The fries were top notch, hand cut spuds that served well to soak up all that four star alcohol I’d enjoyed all night.



Not to go all lefty on you, but this was one night I was happy to have the availability of public transportation. Although, I have to say, after standing in the midnight darkness for 20 minutes waiting for one of those century old Green Line trolleys, the “T’ does stretch the definition of “transportation” a bit.



Public transportation. Electricity rationing. Congressmen who run homosexual prostitution rings out of their congressional offices.



And really good beer.



It’s like I always say when I have a good time in a foreign country, “Nice place to visit…



…but I wouldn’t want to live there.”



Rating: Bought the Shirt!