Though it’s easy to forget when you spend all your time in an ivory faux-limestone tower, it’s easy to forget, Cambridge, Massachusetts is a unique (and wonderful) point in time and space. There are nicknames to match: some idiot Republican called Harvard “The Kremlin on the Charles,” semi-observant writers who’ve been to France sometimes call this city the “Boston’s Left Bank,” and everybody who gets a parking ticket will sigh and proclaim that that’s just life in the “People’s Republic of Cambridge.”

Actually, that has kind of a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Well, I do. Read the rest of this entry »

Last Wednesday, sitting around a conference room table, going over a friend’s qualifiers presentation:

J: “Hey. Want to get beer tonight?”
Me: “Ok.”

And simple as that, 6pm, we’re strolling out of the UES to the painful transnat corpdom that is Midtown, heading towards the Ginger Man, a Manhattan beer powerhouse with 66 beers on tap and 120+ bottles,
and one of 12 listed bars in NY with Dogfish 60 on tap.

It’s a Wednesday, Midtown’s a wasteland, and it was 6pm. We didn’t expect there to be much of a crowd, but by the time we got there, it was completely packed! This is a huge bar with plenty of seating area, but alas, all seats (and standing room) was taken up by suits loosening their ties. After standing around awkwardly for a bit, waiting for the last member of our party to arrive, we finally procured a table, got our beers, got halfway through the first round, and then realized… the bar was practically empty. Somewhere in that one hour differential, the B&T crowd had finished pounding in that one last drink before catching the PATH back home.

This bar’s location was really a shame, considering the wonderful bounty of beer they had available.

I tried (ever my own or someone else’s glass… no I didn’t drink 4 beers there):

Stoudt’s Blonde Double MaiBock
y’know, i just wasn’t feeling this beer at all. i really wanted to, since double bocks sound like candy on a stick, but while this had alot of different flavours going for it, they didn’t… mix together at all. just ended up being a bit weird and incongruous

Franziskaner Hefe Weisse
typical hefeweizen with a bit more spice/kick than usual. pretty decent, but not too special for a hefe

Victory Storm King Stout
yummy, good stout.
didn’t stand out from other stouts, but had the same texture & nice malty taste of caramel & choco (not sweet). delicioso!

Dogfish Head 60 Minute
Wow. So unlike the Dogfish Head 120 minute, this actually still tastes recognizably like an IPA. However, its also the best IPA i’ve ever had. just the right balance of hops, acidity, flavour… i wouldn’t, however, compare this to the 120, just b/c the 120 really belongs in a dessert beer category, instead of the normal IPA.

One of the best things, however, about 36th st though, is its proximity to K-town. We jetted over there, grabbed some korean bbq & Hite korean beer (which is pretty amazingly mediocre, but hey, every country has their own macrolager), and it was an excellent night.

I’d definitely head over to the ginger man again sometime, just not between 5 to 7:30pm on a workday.

The Ginger Man
11 E. 36th St., New York, NY 10016
nr. Fifth Ave.
212-532-3740

One of the best things about living in Cambridge is the Cambridge Brewing Company. It’s a nice, spacious location, with a lot more restaurant space than bar space (the food’s pretty decent though I’m not too impressed by the pizza), not too crowded on the weekends. And, of course, they make their own beer; the sides of the rooms are lined with enormous vats of beer, and you won’t be ordering a Corona here.

The biggest downside is that it’s at Kendall Square, so if it’s too full you’ve got a bit of a hike to get anywhere else. Also, they close at 1 for some reason, probably related to the fact that it caters more to adults who appreciate artistry, and less to grad students who want to get thrashed. I wear both hats, as the situation warrants.

This is an ale-only establishment; they’ve got I think four house beers that are always on tap (a golden Kölsch, an amber, a pale, and a porter), plus another five to ten seasonal beers that they rotate through as they become ready.

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Toronto felt a little bit like an episode of the Twilight Zone. No, not the one where all the streets have trams in them, or the one about the really freaking tall concrete structure that they charge $27 to let you go up (though those were both good), but the one where everybody disappeared.

Now, I should mention that we showed up in Toronto on Easter Sunday. Apparently that’s a popular time to sit at home and close your restaurant/pub/whatever. I honestly had no idea. About three-quarters of all the fine cantinas and trattorias we walked past were closed that night, though we wound up getting dinner and drinking a pretty decent pale ale at some pub that called itself the Firkin (I think in the general vicinity of University and Queen Street, but I don’t remember for sure. Let Google be your guide), and then hanging out at a jazz lounge called The Rex on Queen Street where the music was good and the beer was local. Neither establishment was even remotely full, though The Rex wasn’t bad for a Sunday night, I guess. Also, we saw lots of technially-dressed nineteen-year-olds (the temperature was about freezing), which served as a good reminder of Ontario’s drinking age.

The next day was just as strange though. We took lunch at the awesomely-named C’est What? down by the waterfront (craft brews = victory. I recommend this place enthusiastically.) — totally deserted. Around 11 PM we went out to the not-remarkable but not-bad Ben Wick’s out in Cabbagetown, and we were literally the only people in the place. It was seriously weird. They were open, and the bartender/waiter did a reasonable job of paying attention to us without always hovering over us (he gave us the hard sell on a South African shiraz, but it turned out to be really excellent, so I’ll forgive him), so it certainly wasn’t a bad experience, but I fail to understand how Toronto can be so empty.

By contrast, I recently wanted to go out for a drink here in Cambridge with about 5 friends at 9 on a Tuesday night. There was no place at Central Square we could get a table. We wound up walking back to campus and hanging out at one of the student-run dives. Cambridge may in fact have the busiest (weeknight) bars in the world, but it still makes seeing an empty bar weird.

If I’m inside, seated, and paying more than $3 for a beer, you had better not serve it to me in a plastic cup. You’re running a restaurant, not a frat party or a music festival. Have some self respect.

Since this is a blog about liquids (as opposed to a blog about expensive food or incredibly crappy service) I’ll call that a good enough reason for me to never go back to Tommy Doyle’s at Kendall Square ever again. Ever. And you shouldn’t either.

[Seriously, boys and girls: if you’re at Kendall Square (which you shouldn’t be without a good reason, by the way — that place is a wasteland), just go to Emma’s if you’re patient or the CBC if you’re not. Emma’s has excellent food and a good selection of beer and wine from two continents, and the CBC is a craft brewery.]

Like Harvard Square, Inman Square is a cool neighborhood. Unlike Harvard Square, Inman is actually cool in the college-town sense; it’s got a bunch of awesome little cafés, pubs, and shops. (It’s also a bit of a trek from the T, but that’s just Cambridge for you.)

I’ve been a few times to this really cool little pub at Inman called The Druid that has excellent music and some pretty solid selections. On Wednesday night some classmates concocted the brilliant idea of going thut we all needed to unwind.

But then it turned out that The Druid has trivia on Wednesday, and it was way too full. So we went down the street to Bukowski’s Tavern.

I’d never been to Bukowski’s before. The place is going for a bit of a “neighborhood” vibe — food seems to be an important part of the experience, and they serve it until 1 even on weeknights, and it’s good big windows for those of you who want to be reminded that there’s such a place as “outside” when you’re hanging out. It’s got a big open space (for better or worse).

Now, I’ll interrupt myself and give away the punch-line: the place has three stars on Yelp. I tend to hold out for more. For those of you too lazy to click the link (and I don’t blame you), I can summarize: some people don’t like the food, lots of people don’t like the waiters, it’s sometimes way too loud, and it’s always expensive.

So, okay. I was there on a Wednesday - it was neither loud nor crowded, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t when normal people are there. I didn’t have any food; some of the people I was with got some artichoke dip: one said it was good and one said it tasted like it was from Trader Joe’s (which I think means that it’s good but not worth $6.50). The waitstaff were waitstaff; I told them what I wanted and they brought it. When we first got there I ordered from the bar, which I would have preferred to keep doing (it makes the accounting a lot simpler when you’re in a group). Whatever.

While they have PBR on tap for $3, Bukowski’s does have some phenomenally expensive beer. I blew something like $25 on three excellent beers, a Dogfish Raison d’Etre, a truly wonderful Unibroue Trois Pistoles, and… hmm… I don’t remember what the third one was. At least I remember being satisfied at the time.

There are beers on the menu that are $45, which is pretty much permanently out of my range. Next time I’m there, I’ll probably shell out for the Chimay Bleue — I almost did last time, but I decided I was a little too drunk to appreciate a $15 bottle of beer.

Bukowski’s not the Sunset — it’s got less than half the beers, most of the stuff on tap is pretty standard, and for some reason I’m feeling like it’s more expensive (I’ve got a bad enough money sense even when I’m sober that I have no idea if that’s actually true). On the other hand, it is in Cambridge and its selection is, in its own right, nothing to sneeze at. I don’t know if I’ll be back on a Friday or a Saturday, but sooner or later I’ll be back. It will be expensive and glorious.

Last Friday, I re-entered the high heeled shark-infested waters known as the New York dating scene… to the great delight of more geriatric friends who love to live vicariously through me. The gent & I were meeting up at Union Square and winging it from there, and being a 21st century woman and all, I figured I should contribute some ideas for dinner & a bar afterwards. A New Yorker friend recommended a hidden bar, Angel Share, haphazardly located in the middle of a busy Japanese restaurant.First of all, let me say… this is not a bar for first dates. Or second dates even. Unless you’re 100% sure you’re madly in love with this guy/gal. This bar has romantic down to an art form, to the point where you’re going to want to take your pants off, regardless of how unattractive, uninteresting and repulsive your date might be. It’s insta-hook-up in bar form.

Three restaurants, 1 bartender with a chip on her shoulder, 1 run-in with a friend, and a flight of stairs later, we found ourselves inside a sushi place, standing outside a wooden door that could’ve easily passed for the entryway to a storage cabinet

“Are you sure it’s here?” my date asked. “I’ve been to this restaurant a couple times and never noticed a bar.”
“No no,” I insisted. “My friend said it was completely unmarked.”
I opened the door…

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