Sunday, October 6, 2008 - Philadelphia, PA
Since I had to fly back to Nashville from Philly in the early evening, I left Atlantic City this morning and headed downtown to a beer pub I had researched called "The Pour House" - clever name, huh? Their website claimed that they ran Flying Fish beer specials on Sundays and had NFL Sunday Ticket with which I was hoping to watch the Titans go 5-0. The place turned out to be a tiny hole in the wall with just a few small TVs showing other games besides the Eagles. I decided to move on in search of a better venue. After the Titans game I was planning on stopping by the Nodding Head Microbrewery in downtown Philly before heading to the airport. But since The Pour House was so...well...poor, and I didn't have another sports bar option researched nearby I decided to "head" on over to the Nodding and hope that a decent sports bar was in the same general area maybe. I didn't spot anything on my way to Nodding Head but it was right downtown in a busy area of bars and restaurants, so I went ahead and stopped by and thought I would just ask if a sports bar was nearby after having a couple of their draughts.
THE BEER - Wow! That's all in can say...wow! These guys are doing it right in downtown Philly. My first, and best, choice was the Chinook Double Pale Ale. This pint absolutely REEKED of hops. Truly a taste sensation and honestly one of the best beers I have had...ever...that is not an exaggeration. It easily moves into the # 1 spot on my list. I lowered myself to try their BPA ( Bill Payer Ale) and it was pleasant, but I should have had it first because it "paled" in comparison to the Chinook.
Since I had to fly back to Nashville from Philly in the early evening, I left Atlantic City this morning and headed downtown to a beer pub I had researched called "The Pour House" - clever name, huh? Their website claimed that they ran Flying Fish beer specials on Sundays and had NFL Sunday Ticket with which I was hoping to watch the Titans go 5-0. The place turned out to be a tiny hole in the wall with just a few small TVs showing other games besides the Eagles. I decided to move on in search of a better venue. After the Titans game I was planning on stopping by the Nodding Head Microbrewery in downtown Philly before heading to the airport. But since The Pour House was so...well...poor, and I didn't have another sports bar option researched nearby I decided to "head" on over to the Nodding and hope that a decent sports bar was in the same general area maybe. I didn't spot anything on my way to Nodding Head but it was right downtown in a busy area of bars and restaurants, so I went ahead and stopped by and thought I would just ask if a sports bar was nearby after having a couple of their draughts.
THE BEER - Wow! That's all in can say...wow! These guys are doing it right in downtown Philly. My first, and best, choice was the Chinook Double Pale Ale. This pint absolutely REEKED of hops. Truly a taste sensation and honestly one of the best beers I have had...ever...that is not an exaggeration. It easily moves into the # 1 spot on my list. I lowered myself to try their BPA ( Bill Payer Ale) and it was pleasant, but I should have had it first because it "paled" in comparison to the Chinook.
FUNNY THINGS HAPPEN WHEN YOU DRINK BEER----
It was almost game time and I was just finishing my BPA and getting ready to ask Pete the barkeep if there was a nearby sports bar when two young nice-looking ladies strolled in to the quiet little bar area and plopped down beside me...no this is not a letter to Penthouse...just bear with me. To say these two ladies were "chipper" would be saying that the Chinook had a "hint" of hoppiness to it. The one with the Eagles shirt on immediately wanted to know why the football game wasn't on. The one TV in the place had the Phillies playoff game on. Pete promised that they would turn back and forth between the two, but that was of little satisfaction to "Eagles shirt" who replied, "well, we came here to watch football and I would say this guy would agree with us" pointing to me in my Peyton Manning jersey. I did agree verbally and a bond of kindred spirits began. "Eagles shirt" and her friend - let's call her "funny little brunette" - then started hemming and hawing over the beer selections. "Eagles shirt" named several of the beers on tap that she had consumed here in the past, but didn't know what to recommend to "funny little brunette" because as Pete the barkeep assumed with a smirky beer-snob tone "let me guess...you two don't like microbrews" and suggested a light wheat selection because it was "close to the taste of Michelob Ultra."
"Oh, no!" they said in unison. "We love the taste of beer. We want something that we will remember."
Oh, really.
"Get the Chinook," I said matter-of-factly. Pete muffled a laugh. I added, "You may not like it, but you won't forget it." Two Chinooks pints it was. I ordered my third pint...another Chinook, of course. I don't endorse a product that I don't use myself. "Eagles shirt" and "funny little brunette" were troopers and drank most of their pints...slowly...between gabbing, going to the bathroom, going outside (thank God) to smoke, etc....but I am pretty sure they hated the Chinook. Oh well, at 8% alcohol it's a thin line between love and hate. The 1 PM (EST) games were well into the first quarter and I was ready to find a TV, so I asked "Eagles shirt" if there was not a decent sports bar nearby to watch the games. "Oh, sure! The Fox & the Hound is around the corner and it's great." I was a little hesitant and asked, "Will I get beat up wearing this?" indicating the Manning jersey.
"Nah," she said. "It's a huge place and their are usually all types of jerseys in there."
"Funny little brunette" piped in, "I usually wear my Buffalo jersey in there and never have a problem."
"Uh-huh," I thought, "That's probably got more to do with you being the 'funny little brunette' in the Bills jersey."
They gave me directions. Each one had a "best way" to get there and both went in different directions. I asked for the most simple.
"Just come with us. We are going there now." said "Eagles shirt" not knowing me from Adam. I guess my wedding band, the fact they they engaged me in conversation and not vice-versa and the buzz of an 8% Chinook was a combination that deemed the invitation pretty harmless. Which it was. Sorry, still no Penthouse letter. I love my wife. Always will.
"Eagles shirt" turned out to Lindsey, a born-and-raised Jersey girl who worked as a graphic designer in Philly. Unmarried but in a month-old relationship with a young Irish guy "fresh off the boat" as she put it who was into soccer more than football and was a few blocks away watching "footie" at a pub. "Funny little brunette" turned out to be Kat. A married mother of an 18-month old whose Scottish father (damn foreigners stealing our women...oops, I was born in Germany wasn't I? And stole me a Georgia peach....oh well, never mind. Well done, fellas.) was watching him at home while also watching soccer. The girls knew each other from working together at a restaurant some years back.
Oh, really.
"Get the Chinook," I said matter-of-factly. Pete muffled a laugh. I added, "You may not like it, but you won't forget it." Two Chinooks pints it was. I ordered my third pint...another Chinook, of course. I don't endorse a product that I don't use myself. "Eagles shirt" and "funny little brunette" were troopers and drank most of their pints...slowly...between gabbing, going to the bathroom, going outside (thank God) to smoke, etc....but I am pretty sure they hated the Chinook. Oh well, at 8% alcohol it's a thin line between love and hate. The 1 PM (EST) games were well into the first quarter and I was ready to find a TV, so I asked "Eagles shirt" if there was not a decent sports bar nearby to watch the games. "Oh, sure! The Fox & the Hound is around the corner and it's great." I was a little hesitant and asked, "Will I get beat up wearing this?" indicating the Manning jersey.
"Nah," she said. "It's a huge place and their are usually all types of jerseys in there."
"Funny little brunette" piped in, "I usually wear my Buffalo jersey in there and never have a problem."
"Uh-huh," I thought, "That's probably got more to do with you being the 'funny little brunette' in the Bills jersey."
They gave me directions. Each one had a "best way" to get there and both went in different directions. I asked for the most simple.
"Just come with us. We are going there now." said "Eagles shirt" not knowing me from Adam. I guess my wedding band, the fact they they engaged me in conversation and not vice-versa and the buzz of an 8% Chinook was a combination that deemed the invitation pretty harmless. Which it was. Sorry, still no Penthouse letter. I love my wife. Always will.
"Eagles shirt" turned out to Lindsey, a born-and-raised Jersey girl who worked as a graphic designer in Philly. Unmarried but in a month-old relationship with a young Irish guy "fresh off the boat" as she put it who was into soccer more than football and was a few blocks away watching "footie" at a pub. "Funny little brunette" turned out to be Kat. A married mother of an 18-month old whose Scottish father (damn foreigners stealing our women...oops, I was born in Germany wasn't I? And stole me a Georgia peach....oh well, never mind. Well done, fellas.) was watching him at home while also watching soccer. The girls knew each other from working together at a restaurant some years back.
Although they never said it, I am pretty sure they were using me as a shield to keep the guy-heavy contingent at the Fox & Hound off of them while they drank...gulp...Miller Lite, chatted and watched the games. I don't mind being used when I get what I want as well...i.e. local guidance to a great sports bar (they were right - the place was packed with people in all knds of jerseys and the Titans/Ravens were on one of the bigger screen TVs. 5 and 0, baby!! Wooohooo!!), pleasant company in a strange town (They couldn't have been nicer to me and wouldn't even let me buy them a second bucket of beer. I had to stop at my share of one bucket since I had to drive to the airport in a few hours, plus it was...gulp...Miller Lite) and a chance to show off a little Southern gentleman charm...hey, what can I say...one's married to an Scot...one's dating a Mick and I have a pretty heavy Southern drawl....chicks dig the accents.
1 comment:
Pictures... we need pictures... and a Penthouse letter wouldn't hurt either. LOL
Post a Comment