Subjugate Yourself to Russian River Brewing’s American Ingenuity

Russian River
Brewing Company
725 4th St.
Santa Rosa, CA






Did you know that the Russians once colonized the west coast of what is now the United States?

Yeah. Neither did I. They didn’t teach us that in Suit757’s high school history class.

But it’s true. Sailing out of Siberia and Alaska down the west coast of North America, early 19th Century Russian colonists kept going until they found friendlier weather and calmer seas in temperate Northern California.

And just think, that was before the modern day California attractions like tofu, strip mall pot dispensaries, taxpayer funded sex changes and Miley Cyrus.

Maybe that’s just as well. If the Russians had encountered any of that, they’d have probably reboarded their ships and sailed back north to the comforts of Siberia.

And whoever is in charge of naming rivers here in western Sonoma County would have had to come up with another name.

Here in the 21st Century, the Russian River Valley is known for its pinot noir and zinfandel.

Those are wines, by the way. (Yeah, I know. I had to look it up too.)

Suit757 has never been much of a wine drinker.

But based on the crowd hanging out at 9pm at Russian River Brewing Company in downtown Santa Rosa, I would have plenty of beer-drinking company here in the heart of wine country.

The hostess told me it would be an hour and fifteen minute wait for a table or a seat at the bar.

But after sitting in the driver’s seat of a rental car all day and perusing the big chalk board of hand crafted beers, I didn’t mind one bit standing around sampling the offerings.

Fourteen different beers were offered.

Holy hops!

I was happy to see Russian River Brewing Company isn’t one of those boring, play it safe microbreweries that offers up nothing more interesting than the obligatory red-ale-brown-ale-pale-ale-IPA standards.

The only problem was choosing one on the spot when the busy bartender asked me what I wanted.

“What’s good?”

Dumb question.

“They’ll all good,” he replied condescendingly.

“Give me something hoppy.”

He slid me a Blind Pig India Pale Ale.

It had a nice spicy hop kick to it but I was pretty sure if given a little more time to study the beer menu I could come up with something more exciting.

I was right.

The beer list read like a theological thesaurus: Damnation. Supplication. Subjugation. Salvation. Perdition. Redemption. Sanctification. Temptation. Consecration.

Whoa. Did I come here to drink beer or relive 12 years of Catholic school?

The more helpful descriptions illuminated the wide variety of serious-beer-drinker beer styles available: Belgians, wine barrel aged, imperial IPAs, imperial stouts, imperial pilsners.

Any beer with “imperial” in its name is a good bet.

Just as I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all this decision-making and theology, two miraculous events occurred almost simultaneously.

First, the hostess texted me that a table was ready -- after just a 15 minute wait.

Then, on my way to the hostess stand, I saw a waitress carrying in her hand the answer to my indecisiveness -- and perhaps, the salvation of my soul -- the grandest flight of beers I had ever laid eyes upon.

My waitress had hardly finished her greeting when I said, “I want one of those!”

Most microbrewery beer flights are four or five samplers of different beers, to give you a little taste of a wide variety of styles.

I see them as research projects for planning the rest of the evening. Invest in a little testing before committing to a full pint-sized roll out.

Russian River’s beer flight IS the rest of the evening -- a three ounce sample of each and every one of all 14 beers for $15.

I was in hops heaven!

Of course my primary concern after ordering this king of all flights was how the heck would I be able to tell which beer was which?

Russian River solves this crisis in a novel way.

The giant sampler set comes out in a wooden tray with bottle caps of each beer affixed next to each sample.

You’ve got to love American ingenuity!

The waitress helpfully advised that I start at the far left top with the Belgians and work my way counter clockwise through the sour beers to the lighter beer and culminate with the hoppiest beers so as not to wreck my beer palate.

I dutifully obliged, giddy as a school girl at a Hannah Montana concert, all the while carefully making mental notes about which ones I liked and didn’t like.

Everything was going fine until I got to Consecration, Supplication and Temptation, Russian River’s unique wine barrel aged “sour” beers.

Being the adventurous beer drinking fellow I am, before I noticed the sampler, I was ready to commit to a full pint of Consecration.

Wow. Am I glad I didn’t make that mistake!

My first sip of Consecration, my lips curled, my nose scrunched, my taste buds rebelled.

I almost spit it out. The keg was bad. I’ve had that taste before.

It’s like a scorching sourness that makes your entire face contort in disgust -- kinda like those old Keystone Beer “Bitter Beer Face” commercials Coors used to run 15 years ago.

When an unpasteurized keg of beer goes “bad”, due to some idiot not keeping it cold or just letting it get months and months out of date, bacteria begins to grow until the beer no longer tastes like beer, but a sour batch of grandpa’s cough medicine.

That’s weird.

Why would a microbrewery, where the beer is brewed in the big steel vats twenty feet from me, let their beer go bad?

Doesn’t make any sense.

Oh well. I moved on to the Supplication, aged in pinot noir barrels.

Same exact problem. Spoiled sour beer.

Same thing with the Temptation, aged in chardonnay barrels.

All three were “bad”.

That’s REALLY weird. No way can this be a mistake.

These sour wine barrel-aged beers are supposed to taste like this???

I pointed out to my waitress that these three beers either were spoiled -- or they were the worst tasting beers I’ve ever drunk in my life.

While a bit defensive, she blamed it all on me for not following her instructions.

“You must have ruined your palate with an IPA before you tried it,” she explained.

I assured her I followed her orders religiously, although I did start the evening off with the Blind Pig. But that was over an hour ago.

“Well that explains it. A hoppy beer will wipe out your palette for 24 hours,” she said.

I must have had a skeptical look on my face because she proceeded to go into a broad scientific dissertation on how Russian Rivers’ sour beers have some special bacteria added to them before they are aged for months in wine barrels and allowed to essentially “spoil.”

On purpose.

To be honest, I didn’t quite understand it all.

I was left with the impression that I was just too unsophisticated enough of a beer drinker to get it.

But the manager came over and assured me that there were plenty of beer connoisseurs like me who can’t stand these unique concoctions either. But there are plenty of people who love them.

I guess to prove the point, my dining companion who hates beer actually sorta kinda liked them and finished them off for me.

You couldn’t get me to choke those sour beers down if you told me it was the last beer left on planet Earth.

Fortunately my next stop-overs on my marathon beer flight were pilsners, pale ales and steadily hoppier beer.

Not spoiled on purpose.

By this point our “Mikey” pizza arrived -- just in time to soak up all those various brewskie varieties floating in my stomach.

Topped with pepperoni, crumbled Italian sausage and caramelized onions, this was really top notch pizza.

Once the pizza was polished off and all 14 samplers of my flight were drained, the waitress was ready to bring the check.

Not so fast, little missy.

It was decision time. Which of these 14 beers were going to get the honor of winning the contest?

What’s the point of plowing through 14 different beers if you aren’t going to order a couple pints of your favorites?

I couldn’t pick just one winner.

So I ordered two pints.

Yes. On top of the 15 beers I had already drank. (Thank God for non-beer-drinking designated drivers.)

The first Suit757 champion was “Row 2/ Hill 56”, a hoppy pale ale made exclusively with the much-coveted Washington-grown Simcoe hops. Absolutely delicious and spicy and sweet all at the same time.

The second was “Shadow of a Doubt”, a powerful alcohol-packed imperial stout, which went suprisingly well with the chocolate brownie/ice cream dessert, but left me wobbling out onto 4th St.

Despite recoiling in horror from Russian River Brewing’s weird sour beers, I realized as I stumbled into the Santa Rosa darkness that this place is everything I could ask for in a microbrewery.

Even if some of what I tried made my face scrunch up like a sun dried tomato, there is no doubt that Russian River Brewing serves up excitement and innovation on tap.

This is American ingenuity at its best. And that’s something those Russian colonists and Miley Cyrus would never understand.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Overcoming the Soft Bigotry of Low Expectations

Moab Brewery
686 S. Main St.
Moab, UT



“Not to be a smartass, but…”

I realize that’s not the best way to begin a new relationship.

But other than bringing me a few brews and some food, my relationship with my waiter at Moab Brewery was going to be relatively short lived anyway.

You have to understand, I was just incredulous at what he told me.

“By state law, all the draft beer we brew is 3.2 percent,” he explained.

That’s 3.2% alcohol content by volume.

I mean, even your watered down puke American light beers like Miller Lite are at least 4.5%. Budweiser is 5%.

A good microbrew can approach double digits. Heck, I’ve got a bottle of Dogfish Head 120 Minute IPA I’m saving at home that touches 20% ABV. Definitely a special occasion sipping beer.

So who the hell wants to waste their time with a beer restricted to just 3.2?

Other than a few forgettable trips to Tulsa, Oklahoma, I’ve never run into this “three-two” beer crisis.

So I sure wasn’t expecting to confront this issue here – at a microbrewery, for Pete’s sake!

“Not to be a smartass, but what is the freaking point? I mean, why bother building a microbrewery if you can’t brew real beer?”

I think I offended my waiter.

Something about the look on his face.

He explained that he had worked in Salt Lake City for Uinta Brewing and they competed against breweries all over the world – and won – with 3.2% beer.

He assured me the alcohol content would not affect the taste.

I was dubious, to say the least.

But what could I do? Arguing with my waiter wasn’t going to cause a frosty mug of Dogfish Head’s finest to suddenly appear in my hand.

So I tried Moab’s “Merrimack Steamer”, a pale ale with a crisp, hoppy, tasty flavor.

I mean, this brew isn’t going to make the Beer Hall of Fame, but I have to admit, I was impressed.

Call it “the soft bigotry of low expectations,” as George W. Bush would say.

My second brew, the “Raven Stout”, seemed like a good choice because stouts tend to be low in alcohol anyway. Maybe I wouldn’t miss it, I rationalized.

Unfortunately, this oatmeal stout tasted watered down, not as good as the Steamer.

The good news is that unlike the beer, the food served at Moab Brewery is free from meddling restrictions imposed by the Utah legislature.

My “Chili Verde Pork Burrito” was chock full of fork tender meat that had been slow simmered in green chili sauce. If those Mormon lawmakers had the same attitude toward dead pig that they do toward beer, this burrito would be in serious violation of at least a couple Utah statutes.

Topped with cheese and a delicious chili of beans, onions, olives, peppers and tomatoes, my burrito was an ideal companion to my microbrewed beer.

On the side came sturdy slabs of fresh baked corn bread studded with jalapeño peppers. After slathering on a generous hunk of honey sweet butter, I was in corn bread heaven.

So I know you are dying to know. My waiter was too.

Is Suit757 a convert to hand crafted low alcohol beer?

Well, I’ll tell you what I told my waiter.

I’m impressed.

Moab Brewery moved me from “Why bother?” to “Hey, this is actually pretty good.”

I mean, I’m not going home and pouring my $13 twelve ounce bottle of 120 Minute IPA down the drain or anything. But I’m impressed. Impressed that Moab Brewery can overcome such a 3.2 ABV handicap and rise to the occasion.

So impressed, I cashed in my little “$1 Off Souvenirs” wooden coin at the gift shop and bought myself a Moab Brewery shirt.

So is Suit757 going soft in his old age?

I don’t think so. But who knows? You know what they say about low expectations.

Rating: Bought the Shirt.

We Don't Need No Stinking Onions . . .

The Onion Pub & Brewery

22221 Pepper Rd.

Lake Barrington, IL 60010

I despise Chicago.

I despise Chicago for the traffic, the politics, and the dirty White Sox . . .

I have never had a pleasant traffic experience in Chicago.

Politically speaking, the city is absolutely atrocious. Can anyone say statism?

And as for the White Sox . . . Well, I'm a Detroit Tigers fan, so I have to hate them.

With the most annoying manager in baseball, Ozzie Guillen, that's sure not hard for me.

With that said, I will now introduce you to The Onion Pub & Brewery located in Barrington, Illinois, just about an hour northwest of downtown Chicago.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I love micro-breweries and I am willing to go out of my way to visit one.

In this case, I traveled about 40 minutes from my hotel to visit The Onion.

Now, the name of this place certainly peaked my interest . . .

Honestly, it had me concerned that it was going to serve beer brewed with onion, which I can never imagine being a good combination.

But actually, the name is a tribute to the original inhabitants of the region, the Potowatami tribe.

Apparently this area was once covered with wild onion and the Potowatami named it "Che-cau-gua", directly translating as "land of the stinking onion."
The city of Chicago derives its name from this, which seems appropriate to me.

The outside of The Onion was impressive, with giant wooden doors, a mural of foxes drinking beer, and creeping vines.

I felt like I was about to walk into black tie only restaurant.

The land that it was located on was impressive as well, green with a nice pond out back.

While I was looking over the menu, I ordered their Summer Wit, which was their version of a Belgian wheat beer.  It came standard with a slice of lemon.

It was pretty good. A nice light body for a hot summer day.

The menu was pretty impressive. They had everything from burgers, steak, and a few traditional German dishes such as Jagerschnitzel.

They also make their own barbecue sauce for their ribs and pulled pork sandwiches.

The only downside to the menu was the price.

Perhaps it was because we were close to Chicago and the prices are artificially inflated, or may be it is because everything is just so bloody expensive in Illinois because of the taxes. Either way, the prices seemed to be a bit high.

I decided to go with a BBQ Pulled Pork sandwich that was smothered in their house made lager BBQ sauce. As a side, I had a bowl of French onion soup.

I couldn't go to a placed called "The Onion" and not have a food item with onion in it.

As I waited for my food, I took a look around the place.

The inside was as impressive as the outside. The whole place has a timber interior frame, which gives it the feel of a hunting lodge, which made it cozy and relaxing.

My soup arrived first and it looked amazing, just like French onion soup should look like, cheese melted over the top, with the soup having a rich, dark color to it.

It was delicious. Easily the best French onion soup I have ever had.

Soon after finishing my soup, my pulled pork sandwich arrived.

It had pulled pork piled high, smothered in BBQ sauce, all on an onion roll.

It was wonderful, as were the pretzel rolls that came as an appetizer.

I was not disappointed by this meal.

Of course, I wish the prices were a little lower so that I could have afforded to try another one of their beers that were being brewed right beneath my feet.

That's right, this place brews its own beer in the basement of the building. Can we say guaranteed freshness?

It almost made me rethink my dislike for Chicago.

Almost.

Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying the Shirt, but thought that I contributed enough through the prices and up-charges on my meal to justify it.

Brewing with St. Francis

St. Francis Brewery

3825 Kinnickinnic Avenue

St. Francis, WI 53235

Being that this is my first post, there is one thing everyone should know about me.

I love micro-breweries.

I believe that they are one of the finest examples of the American spirit.

They are independent, local and unique.

I once participated in a tour of micro-breweries for a friend's Bachelor Party that took us to at least five different micro-breweries in southwest Michigan.

It impresses me how five different breweries can produce such a large variety of beers. At one brewery I can have a nice Scotch Ale, while a few breweries later I can have an ale on the wild side that is brewed with Jamaican jerk spices.

So, naturally, during my first visit to Milwaukee, arguably the beer capital of America, I found it appropriate to visit a brewery and, I must say, I was not disappointed.

St. Francis Brewery and Restaurant is located in St. Francis, Wisconsin, just miles away from the Milwaukee airport. Their beer menu includes the basics: a light beer, a wheat beer, an amber, and a rotating stock of dark beers.

The first beer that I tried was their KK Weisse (in picture on left), their wheat beer. I enjoyed this while I was looking over their impressive food menu. Being a fan of BBQ, I ordered a rack of their baby back ribs that is dressed with their Oatmeal Stout BBQ Sauce. It came with garlic mash potatoes and coleslaw.

While I awaited the arrival of my food, I took a chance to look around the place. According to the bartender, St. Francis has only been open for two years and its youth really showed. The place looks brand new. It is spacious and offers a view of their brewing facility. There was also outside seating, but with temperatures peaking over 100 degrees, there was no way I was going to test it out.

Once my food arrived, I decided it was time to try out their seasonal beer which was appropriately named Summer Night Saison. It tasted like candy, was absolutely delicious, and a good pair to my BBQ Ribs.

As for the ribs, they were delicious, as was the coleslaw and garlic mashed potatoes that came with it. The ribs had a very good flavor that was enhanced, not hidden, by the Oatmeal Stout BBQ Sauce.

I also had the opportunity to sample their dark beer of the month, a Porter aptly named Smokey the Beer. This beer was very dark and very flavorful.

One thing I did find upsetting at this place was that the bar did serve Miller Lite. With so many great beers freshly brewed on tap at this place, how could anyone even think to ask if this establishment served Miller Lite?

I mentioned to the bartender that it almost seemed criminal that such a liquid masquerading as "beer" could be served at this place. Of course, he first said the politically correct thing, stating that everyone has their own taste, but later assured me that he thought it was garbage as well.

Rating: Bought the Shirt