Water makes up 55 to 60 percent of the human body. In me, at least half of that water is in the form of German beer.
Like so many others, my ethnic heritage is made up of bratwurst and sauerkraut, polka bands, and invading France. Therefore, it is not surprising that the Rathskeller in downtown Indianapolis became my first better beer bar of choice with Warsteiner Isenbeck in big frickin' mugs being my first better beer of choice.
Over time, my tastes have diversified. Beers from Belgium, England, and Ireland, plus plenty of American craft brews, take up plenty of beer fridge space. The number of "pubs" in Indianapolis have grown, providing English, Irish, and Scottish themed foods and booze.
During the past couple of months, I have re-discovered Broad Ripple Brew Pub. I have made five different trips to this granddaddy of Indiana microbreweries in the past six weeks. And I don't even live in Broad Ripple. I love the beers that come out of here. And the food is great. The Scottish egg pizza is my new favorite pizza.
But what I love the most is the pub snug, a small area near the bar that warm and cozy and exactly what you imagine when you think of English pub. The wood panels and trim, the dark paints, the metal ceiling, the booths. It is intimate and communal and a wonderful experience. It had become my favorite place to be when I'm drinking.
Or so I thought.
This week, I met up with some college buddies at the Rathskeller's Kellerbar. I dined on German sausages and Ochsenschwanz Suppe. I drank beers with names like Warsteiner, Weihenstephaner, Spaten, Schneider, and Klosterbrauerei. And despite the 70's music channel being pumped in through the speakers, Johann Strauss and son were ringing in my ear.
My German blood was flowing. Even though I really enjoy the quaint and quiet style of an English pub, my heart belongs to a long room with high ceilings where the wooden beams soar and hunting trophies stare at you begging for a drink as you clink your steins together. And the recent stretch of warm weather is making me itch for the biergarten's spring opening.
Where does your soul desire to drink?