Day Drinking at Hollywood On Tap

I like beer. It's frothy. But I only really like specific beers. Mostly in the Belgian style, like Hoegaarden and Blue Moon. I'm a fan of the Trappist ales like Chimay, too. But I what I truly love are the superduper sour red ales. If it tastes like carbonated vinegar, I'm probably in love with it.

What I don't like is bitter, hoppy beer. It leaves my mouth feeling like it's covered in moss. Or carpet. In other words, not good.

And these days, most "craft" beers are exactly that: really bitter, hoppy beers. I don't understand the appeal, but I'm just one person. To each his own.

All that to say that when my buddy Rob had an extra ticket to the Hollywood On Tap craft beer fest held on Paramount Studio's "Streets of New York," I figured I'd tag along.

I don't think I've ever seen Rob drink beer (he's the Whisky Guy, after all), so this was going to be interesting. I'd also just cleared my entire weekend of all the responsible things I should have been doing, so why not waste the day drinking instead?

I knew there wasn't going to be much of a selection catering to my tastes, but I was willing to try something new. While Rob concentrated on the stouts (beers that taste like tree bark to me), I sought out anything claiming to be red ales.

There were but a mere handful.

The first stop was the Abita Brewing Company out of Louisiana. I was intrigued by their Pecan Harvest Ale simply because it wasn't the traditional fall pumpkin offering. You could smell and taste the subtle roasted pecans, which was nice. It completely deviated from my hunt for the sour reds but what the hell, right?

It was, of course, a bit too bitter for me. Sigh.

Next up was the Sacramento-based Ruhstaller, which has an interesting history. The California Red Ale was also too bitter for my taste, but it came with a delightful story.

In a bit of serendipitous planning on the event organizers' part, in the booth just next door was the local Monkish Brewing Company beers. This is where I found a winner. The Red Table was still a bit hoppy, but closest of all to what I wanted. And paired with a pink peppercorn, it was quite, dare I say, yummy.

This was the only booth we stopped at that paired their beers with a food product, so I really appreciated that. I'm a dummy for not also indulging in a taste of their Feminist, which came with some dried hibiscus flowers.

This misstep simply guarantees that I'll head down to Torrance for this and the rest of Monkish's frosty beverages. Yay for local breweries!

Now, let's talk food, lest this become a drinking blog (Girl + Quaff?). Two weeks in a row of concentrating solely on alcohol is making me sound like a drunk. I'm not.

Really.

There were a number of food trucks at the festival, none of which I'd ever tried. We settled on Germany's Famous Bratwurst. Rob, being of German descent, had the traditional bratwurst with sauerkraut and German potato salad. I, being of spicy descent, opted for the currywurst with garlic fries. Served with curry-laden ketchup it was so damn good.

So.
Damn.
Good.

If you're in the LA area, and have a hankering for German sausage, find this truck. It will make your tastebuds happy. They seem to concentrate on downtown and the Valley, but it's probably worth the trek.

On a weekend, anyway.

When you don't feel like being responsible either.

And then get yourself a local beer. They go so well together.

Exploring Costa Rica: Pura Vida! Part V

Recap: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.

After leaving the very lovely Lomos del Volcan and the volcano hidden by rain clouds, we piled back in the Fortuner and drove around a really big lake for a very long time. Lake Arenal is huge, but the only way to get to Tilaran was to drive three-quarters of the way around it.

Much to our surprise, as we were hydroplaning our way around the lake, we came upon this sign. And remember, we were on vacation! It demanded we stop to check it out.

What we thought we found was an abandoned hotel. Instead it's a former hotel with its own brewery, undergoing renovations by the same guys who own Witch's Rock Surf Camp in Tamarindo. It had also just opened two days earlier. They say life is about timing. Vacation adventures are just what life is all about. Do the math.

Once inside we were greeted by some very lovely ladies who were tending bar, but encouraged us to explore the grounds. Downstairs we found this beer still.

And then we tasted the beer.

Or, more like their beer concoction.

This is a Shandy: a Witch's Rock pale ale mixed with ginger ale and lemonade. The menu warns you: Watch yourself! It's easy to put these away quickly.

I managed to remember to take a picture before I was too far into this one. Now you know why I stick to scotch and other non-girlie drinks: I've learned sweet drinks are deadly. There is a reason the Shandy comes with a warning. It is delicious, but it's so very easy to forget that it's also an adult beverage.

And it also came with stickers! Because they had just opened, there weren't yet any t-shirts like we wanted. But we did come home with this nifty wench.

No, she's not just any sexy pirate. She's a Costa Rican pirate, dammit! And she'll serve you Shandies all night long if you're not careful.

Where's the food? What food, we were drinking Shandies!

But only two. We had to be careful after all. There was a home-cooked meal waiting for us in Tilaran. And we didn't want to ruin our appetites by drunkenly driving into the lake.

Exploring Costa Rica: Pura Vida! Part II

The continuing saga of our trek through Costa Rica. If you want to catch up, part 1 is here.

Ah, Costa Rica. Sunday afternoon. Rainy, humid, hot, perfect.

We piled into a Toyota Fortuner (kind of like a 4Runner, but its Thai cousin) and headed up to the Arenal Volcano. We passed through little towns like this with a mini mart and a sleeping dog.

There are lots of Brahma cows across the countryside, which have large humps on their backs and also taste delicious. I know this because the first place we stopped to eat had much steak on its menu, so we ate much steak.

Lomo de res with fries (to appease the many American ex-pats?)

Lomo de res with potatoes and chips (typical food?)

And steamed veggies. My trainer would be so proud of me.

This is also where I was introduced to "la cerveza de Costa Rica" and what I would find myself drinking for the remainder of the trip:

That's a Pilsen in the background. My 3 traveling companions preferred it over the slightly more robust Imperial. I'm fine being the odd girl out. Imperial is delicious. (I learned later it's also referred to as águila because of the eagle on the label...kind of like Cazadores is referred to as "reindeer" in dive bars, because of said animal on its label. You learn something new every day.)

For more beer info, this gentleman from Texas gives a very thorough review of your Costa Rican options. Lest you be disappointed, of course we also drank bourbon. You can take the girl out of the country...

And then I fell asleep again and completely missed the ride through La Fortuna. Later on we finally discovered that Costa Rican beer makes me really, really sleepy. Who knew?

I can't tell you where we were when we had this meal, only that it was somewhere southeast of Arenal Volcano National Park. However, this sounds like a mighty good recipe for lomo de res (beef loin). It doesn't specify Brahma beef, but I would strongly recommend it (if you can find it).

Later on that day, we came upon a volcano! We think...

Discovering Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Ale

I'm so very glad the elimination challenge is finally over. I had a beer on Easter to celebrate and...passed out. Yup. Turns out my liver is so shiny new and clean that just the mere sniff of alcohol makes me loopy.

I'm like an alcohol virgin! I'm slowly building my tolerance back up so I can maybe have more than one before having to give my keys up.

A few years ago, a bunch of my Bruin alumni friends and I partook in the Belgian Beer Fest at Lucky Baldwins, and one of them introduced me to sour beer. I was in love. At the time it was the Duchesse de Borgougne. Then the lovely people at Boneyard Bistro introduced me to the Oude Geuze—which I can't even pronounce. I fell deeper in love. So very sour. So very yummy.

It was with a heavy heart that I vainly searched all over BevMo for a beer I can't articulate, so I settled for a brand I'd never heard of called Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Ale. The gamble paid off. It's my new favorite beer.

Little did I know this was from a brew pub in Philly. Unfortunately, I didn't know about it when I lived there. Plus I was in college, when the best thing we drank was Rolling Rock, but at least now I can enjoy their sour export to my heart's content now.

And since today is my birthday, excuse me while I have TWO sour ales.

And cake!