By Timothy Long Happy Hour is a term used by bars and night clubs to induce patrons to come in and enjoy reduced drink prices. Happy Hour can be at any time the establishment chooses. I’ve seen bars have Happy Hour at midnight. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out why anyone would. Reduced prices at that hour would attract people who have already been drinking for a good part of the evening. You’re just asking for a fist fight or a broken restroom stall door. Cocktail hour is a tad different. Here is how an article on glasswithatwist.com defined it. The Cocktail Hour is a more refined pleasure. It is that breather after working hours but before dinner to relax and to whet one’s appetite for the meal to come. The Cocktail Hour can be as intimate as a solitary dinner, or as big as the beginning of a corporate banquet. It can be meeting for drinks before dining out or the gathering time before a dinner party. It is a time to unwind, to refresh the mind and ready oneself for the evening to come after dinner. When I pour myself a bourbon at home, usually around four or five in the afternoon, I like to refer to it as Cocktail Hour. My Cocktail Hour is often accompanied by a cigar. It’s a great way to kick off the evening. However, today’s story begins at a traditional Happy Hour. I’m sitting at a bar with a buddy of mine. He orders a beer. When it arrives, he picks it up and looks at it questioningly. He’s obviously perplexed. He tastes it. His face communicates that something is wrong. “I ordered a lager,” he says. I look at the beer. It’s straw colored and a bit…
By Timothy Long The DC Brau is an icon of the metro area. It’s very well-known and very popular. I have enjoyed their beers for years. The brewery is located on Bladensburg Road in DC, literally a stone’s throw from Maryland. I know the area. It’s not far from my favorite Costco. The one that sells huge bottles of good bourbon. Like most breweries, this one is partially hidden. I say partially because they do have a large DC Brau sign to mark their entrance. I drive under the sign and into the parking lot behind the buildings. I head inside and make my way to their tasting room. I love brewery tasting rooms. And this one does not disappoint. It’s small, rustic, and almost looks like they just threw it together. Exactly the atmosphere you want for tasting beer. Brewery tasting rooms and winery tasting rooms tend to vary greatly. Winery tasting rooms have a lot of decoration and fluff. You feel like you’ve entered a high-end hotel or lodge when you first walk inside. Brewery tasting rooms are usually much more spartan. They’re just as inviting and homey as their winery counterparts, but in a more conventional way. The two are so different because the expectations of their clientele are so different. When tasting a pinot noir, you swirl it in a glass, take in the bouquet, sip it, and say something sophisticated. When tasting a pale ale, you swirl it in your mouth, swallow it, use an expletive when proclaiming how good it is, slam the glass onto the bar, and yell “Another”! Unless you are with your wife. Then you just taste it and talk about how wonderful it is. However, it’s quite enjoyable to act like a Viking. But one must be in the proper…
By Timothy Long You’ll need to shout out a proper toast on St. Patrick’s Day! And raise a proper pint of beer! St. Paddy’s Day is coming. And a word is about to be shouted in Irish pubs around the country. Slainte! An Old Irish expression that is derived from the Irish word “slan” meaning healthy or safe. Slainte [slahn-cha] is used in modern times as an equivalent of the word “cheers”. By raising your pint of beer, or glass of whiskey, and offering a “slainte” before you drink, you are toasting “good health” to those around you. But in Irish culture, you are doing much more than that. According to Irishcentral.com: In Ireland, Sláinte is more than just a word; it’s a cultural practice. When someone raises a glass and says “Sláinte,” it’s an invitation for those around them to do the same, creating a shared sense of connection and camaraderie. It’s a way of acknowledging the importance of friendship and community, and of celebrating the good things in life. If the Irish are good at anything, it’s celebrating the great things in life. That’s what St. Patrick’s Day has become, a celebration of all the great things in our lives. And celebrating life itself. It’s by far my favorite holiday. It replaced Christmas right around the same time that I figured out that I love beer. I do love beer. And one of my favorite beers is Guinness stout. I always start St. Patrick’s Day with a pint of Guiness. It’s a tradition I share with many of the celebrants on St. Paddy’s Day. However, drinking Guinness does present a challenge. St. Paddy’s Day is a marathon, not a sprint. And stout is not a marathon beer. Stouts and porters are tasty, but they are also heavy. They…
By Timothy Long Back in the early 1990s, my friends and I rented a beach house in Dewey Beach, DE for the summer. It was a great time. To this day we all agree that it was one of the best summers of our lives. Dewey Beach was very different back then. It wasn’t as popular as it is today. People our age mainly went to Ocean City, MD, back then. Dewey Beach was a hidden gem. It was a small fun place with a great beach and lots of great bars and restaurants, all without the hordes of people that would invade Ocean City. The crowds were pleasant, and not nearly as overbearing. We spent almost every weekend there. We’d always go to the beach house, rain, or shine. Our logic was, we paid for three months, let’s take advantage of it. For rainy days, we had a small television and a VCR. One of our favorite movies to watch while we cracked open beers and plopped down on the couches was an early 90’s movie, Dazed and Confused. I don’t recommend it. It’s not a great movie. But it was unique in one way. At that time, it was one of the few movies about our generation. Often referred to as the Young Baby Boomers, we are the generation that grew up in between Ed Sullivan and MTV. Dazed and Confused takes place in the mid-1970s when most of us were in our early teens. For us, it was a fun and nostalgic film. At one point in the movie, an avid, long-haired, pot smoker known as Slater goes on a stoner’s rant. Spouting false facts and using confused logic, Slater pontificates about how George Washington grew marijuana at his estate in Mount Vernon, VA, and claims that…
By Timothy Long I almost wrote this article about Dry January, i.e., the healthy trend of not drinking for the entire month of January. It goes along with the new diet you just started and the gym membership you just bought. All three of which will end well before January does. Except the gym membership, you’ll keep paying for that for a while. I was going to tie Dry January in with the non-alcoholic craft beer trend that has grown over the last few years. Non-alcoholic craft beer sales have trended upwards and Dry January has increased in popularity. Therefore, it could be a legitimate subject for an article. Then I asked myself, “Would my readers like an article about non-alcoholic beer and not drinking for a month?” I immediately knew the answer and couldn’t stop laughing at myself for two days. I thought my wife was going to have me committed. What the hell was I thinking? Dry January? I don’t want to write about it, and no one wants to read about it. Anyone who reads this column knows my opinion of non-alcoholic beer. It’s for people who just want to smell like they’re drunk. I prefer Wet January. Let’s face it, January in our area sucks. It is a month that truly is in the doldrums. The actual doldrums are bands of hot, windless, humid weather near the equator that could stall sailing ships for weeks. Sailors dreaded hitting them. The term describes January in the DC area perfectly. Except for playoff football, it is dull, boring, dank, and sad. So, the solution is to not drink? Are you kidding me? I also feel that Dry January is un-American. Think about it. As a culture, we, those of us who do drink, drink for every reason we…
By Timothy Long Getting an Old Towner to leave Old Town can be challenging. Just mention DC or Tysons Corner, and you’ll get a look of derision. It’s as though we live in the old Soviet Union, and that we need papers to travel. I’m an Old Towner, and I admit that I could be better about it. I mean, I get it. We live in a beautiful part of Alexandria. People come here to visit. So why go elsewhere? What could other places possibly offer that we don’t? This being the case, I don’t often travel to places like Vienna, VA. But then I was told about Caboose Brewing Company. And after tasting a couple of their beers, I wanted to go check them out. Writing about destinations is my favorite part of this gig. And nothing is more fun than visiting a brewery. Caboose has two locations, Vienna and Fairfax Commons. I visited their Vienna location. The brewery is in an old railroad area. There is a red caboose right down the road, hence the name. As you enter, the first thing that grabs you are the two giant chalkboards over the bar with the various beers listed on them. The employees do a great job of keeping the chalk board colorful and fun. They told me that they will fight to see who gets to update it next. My initial contact was with one of the owners, Jennifer McLaughlin. Their head brewer is Matt Smith. I got to meet with David Traille, the Head of Brewing Operations. Dave’s story is fun. He learned brewing the old-fashioned way, through apprenticeship. He started at Oak Creek Brewing Company in Sedona, Arizona. When the head brewer fell and broke his arm, Dave had to step in and take over. Dave’s…
By Timothy Long ‘Twas the eve of Thanksgiving And all bars were packed. All souls were holidaying. And looking to get shellacked. They showed up in droves, And raised quite a clatter. It was time to drink, they said, What else could possibly matter? OK, I’m no poet. But Thanksgiving Eve is a big event and worthy of recognition. Also known as Drunksgiving, it’s an informal holiday and the biggest bar night of the year. It even tops New Years Eve or “Amateur Night” as the bartenders call it. Many bartenders will tell you that Thanksgiving Eve compares to St. Patrick’s Day. That is a bold statement and puts into perspective just how big of a night it is. A study posted on Lightspeedhq.com in 2019 showed that bar sales in the Northeastern U.S. increased by 35% on Thanksgiving Eve, when compared to the previous Wednesday. And that the sale of shots increased by 173%, with tequila leading the way at 156%. I forgot that the first thing the Pilgrims did when they landed was make tequila. When I think of Thanksgiving, I always think of tequila. Hordes of college kids and young professionals return to their hometowns for the holiday weekend. And on Wednesday night, they fill the local watering holes. You combine this with the fact that virtually no one works on Thanksgiving Day, and it forms the perfect storm. When I was young and returning home to spend the holiday with my family, I loved going out for Thanksgiving Eve. It was always a blast! You would see friends who you don’t normally see. And friends that you haven’t seen in years. It was a great night of merry making before being trapped with your family for the entire next day. Let’s face facts, football aside, Thanksgiving…
By Timothy Long There are always those beers that you will never forget. Ones that are stuck in your memory forever. It may be for a good reason. It may be for a bad reason. It may be the first beer you ever drank. It may be a beer that your family enjoyed. It may be how the beer was advertised or packaged that still sticks in your mind. Or it may be the best beer that you ever drank. Beer is a huge part of not just our culture, but the world’s culture. It’s not uncommon to have a particular brand that was a part of your life. My first beer was Mickey’s Malt Liquor aka Mickey Big Mouth. That’s right, malt liquor. A name they generally used back in the old days for beer that was over 6% ABV. Mickeys came in a 12-ounce green glass barrel that looked like a hand grenade. It was a terrible brew. My 15-year-old self chugged it down and acted like it was delicious. As one was expected to do in those days. I also remember paying a price when I came home late reeking of it. My father was a stern task master. My older brother and cousins drank Stroh’s, a supposed Bohemian-style Pilsner that came out of Detroit and was popular in the Pittsburgh area. I would steal it from them when I was a teenager. One of Stroh’s claims to fame was that it was brewed over an open flame, fire brewed. I don’t know about the fire, but there certainly was some burning. Then there was Olde Frothingslosh. This beer was produced by Pittsburgh Brewing Company, the brewers of Pittsburgh’s famed Iron City Beer, every Christmas season. It was marketed as “The pale stale ale with the foam…
By Timothy Long I love fall. It is by far my favorite time of year. Oktoberfest begins in September and brings us many wonderful new festbiers to enjoy. Blue Crab season runs well into October. The torturous humidity of the DC area dissipates. It’s a time for blue jeans, sweatshirts, and sweaters. But the best part of fall is the way it kicks off, pun intended. In the last weeks of August, College Football returns and tailgating season begins! The great thing about every subject mentioned in the previous paragraph is that you can enjoy them all together. You can easily put on your college sweatshirt and blue jeans, go to any crab house, and drink festbier while watching your game and devouring crabs. My wife and I will do this a couple of times this season. However, as much as I love them, blue crabs are not the best tailgate food. They are messy. They draw tons of flies. And the set-up takes way too much room. So, we’ll deal with crabs another time. The tailgate is a huge American tradition. And it is not just about drinking before a football game. These types of celebrations occur in the fall, and have for centuries, when growing season ends and the crops have been harvested. The football tailgate is merely an extension of those celebrations. University of Notre Dame cultural anthropologist John Sherry states that: The idea of getting out of your house and feasting and drinking somewhere else is a pretty old tradition. People eat and drink and build up community in the process. It’s one last blowout before we hunker down for winter. It is believed that fans partied before the first college football game between Rutgers University and Princeton University in 1869. And legend has it that…
By Timothy Long We’re on the ninth hole and all agree that it is cigar time. We teed off at 10:30 in the morning. It is now 12:45 P. M. Not a bad pace for a bunch of old guys who cheered when they found out that the beer cart girl had Bloody Mary’s. Making a Bloody Mary takes a little longer that popping open a beer. Plus, most of the guys were enjoying chatting with the beer cart girl. Our cigar of choice was a Nub Habano. It is a great golfing cigar. It has a larger ring gauge, which refers to a cigar’s diameter. It’s also a lighter smoke. I keep a cigar clip in my golf bag. You never know when you are going to be presented with a cigar while golfing. The two traditions have been intertwined for centuries. I attached my cigar clip to the top back of my golf bag, clipped my cigar to it, and head to the tee. I’ve learned to always attach the clip to the bag, not the golf cart. I’ve lost two that way. “Hey look!” my buddy Smitty yells. “Mr. Pretentious has a clip for his cigar!” We all attended college together and are fraternity brothers. The razzing is all part of the brotherly experience. I unwittingly did a great job of making myself a target. “Nice fancy shorts, Tim.” My buddy Dave says. I wore peach-colored madras shorts. I asked for that one. “Oh, Mr. Pretentious can keep score on his watch!” Yes, Smitty, my golf watch does keep score. “Ooh, Tim is drinking Stella Artois!” The country club did not have a large selection of beers. The rest of those sods were drinking Coors Light. Anyone who reads this column knows my opinion on that. Golf,…
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