Chicago Beer Diary | Neighborhoods

A well-worn adage is that "Chicago is a city of neighborhoods." This certainly is true. Ask residents of the city where they're from and they'll probably give you the name of their neighborhood rather than a "side" (e.g. north side, south side) of the city. And in the current craft beer and brewery boom that Chicago is experiencing, chances are that the beer you drink might originate in your favored neighborhood. Do you live in Lakeview? You might gravitate toward brand new brewpub DryHop. Do you like to hang out in Logan Square? You'll probably be found at Revolution. Is Wicker Park or Bucktown your thing? You might be downing pints at Piece.

6.13.13 | The Neighborhoods: Lincoln Park & Andersonville

Near the DePaul campus in Lincoln Park is Local Option. Here you see the slogan, Scheiß Bier kann tödlich sein: Shitty beer can kill you. If ever wiser words were spoken...

The vibe is metal; think Sinking Ship if you're Naptowner. 31 taps of craft beers from across the country and abroad, along with countless bottles and stoic but efficient service...I would frequent this place if I lived in Lincoln Park or anywhere remotely close for that matter. I might not be metal enough to completely fit in at Local Option--the closest I come to being metal is liking Motörhead--but I would do my best.

Bierwerker, which is Local Option's brewing arm, brews at other breweries, but they don't like to be called gypsy brewers or even contract brewers. Whatever you want to call Bierwerker, they make a formidable beer in American Muscle DIPA, which they brewed at Louisville favorite Against The Grain. American Muscle is sweet, potent, citrusy, sneaky. A second snifter is tempting, but I have another place to visit for a drink.

Up the Red Line to the city's far north side and I disembark at the Berwyn station for a westward hike to my Andersonville destination, the Hopleaf. I've been to the Hopleaf many times over the last five years, but I cannot pass up the opportunity to visit again. This place is comfort incarnate, and in my experience, the tap and bottle list has no equal in the city (really, look at this menu). It's an ideal place for Indy folks who enjoy Brugge Brasserie because the focus is Belgian--Belgian food and as well as Belgian beers. It's also a good place to strike up a conversation with a stranger. No one drinking or dining here is pretentious. Making new friends is easy.

Rarely do I encounter a gueuze on tap, so St. Louis Gueuze Fond Tradition on the draft list grabs my attention. Exceptionally tart; pleasingly crisp; notes of apple, oak, and berry. Further delving into the tap list reveals Tart Hopfentea, a unique Berliner weisse brewed in collaboration with the Hopleaf by Perennial Artisan Ales. Lightly sour, herbal, spicy, notes of tropical fruit.

6.14.13 | The Neighborhoods: West Loop and Loop

Green Line from the Loop to the West Loop. West Randolph Street, to be precise. This area is teeming with bars and restaurants. Top Chef winner Stephanie Izard has two acclaimed restaurants here. And it's home to Haymarket Pub & Brewery. As far as brewpubs go, Haymarket is the pressed tin ceiling variety of brewpub. The food isn't exceptional but is still solid. A friendly and knowledgeable staff. A bartender named "Drogo," as in "Khal Drogo." I was tempted to instruct him to carefully disinfect any cuts lest Mirri Maz Duur needs to be called in and everything goes to hell. Next thing you know, Khaleesi is smothering him with a pillow.

At Haymarket, the beer is the real attraction. Loads of house beers and quality guest taps. The Mash Made in Heaven VI White Peach Wit is a memorable quaff. An unfiltered witbier brewed with coriander, sweet and bitter orange peel, and white peach juice. It's the peach juice that pushes this beer from the good to the exceptional category. There's also Girl & the Goatee IV, a Belgian pale ale which is a collab brew with Stephanie Izard that features rhubarb and blackberries. Dry, a bit tart, floral, spicy, delicious.

Wit in the middle; Girl & Goatee on the right.

Two other special beers in the Haymarket lineup are Defender American Stout and Ombibulous American IPA. Defender is heavily dry hopped with Pacific Northwest hops, resulting in a chocolaty and citrusy brew. Best characterized as a Tootsie Roll in a pint glass. And the Ombibulous could also be called "Hop Cornucopia"--Citra, Centennial, Cascade, Amarillo, and Crystal are all in there. Super citrus and pine abound. A hop-head's best friend.

Defender on the right; Ombibulous in the center.

A return to the Loop and to the Palmer House, which is my house for the evening. The blend of Baroque and Art Deco in the hotel lobby brings to mind the scene in The Untouchables where Eliot Ness confronts Al Capone on the grand staircase of the Lexington Hotel. I half expect the lobby bar to use Al Capone's shoe as a cocktail shaker. You know, the one that Geraldo Rivera found in Capone's vault back in the '80s.

Speaking of the lobby bar, it fortunately carries some craft, including Revolution Brewing Company's Rosa Hibiscus Ale in a can. A tart ale infused with hibiscus flowers and orange peel. In the words of a craft-beer-ignorant friend, "Sounds girly." But it's not girly. Rather, it's a fitting nightcap for an expedition through some of Chicago's neighborhoods. And I'll be back to explore more of them.

Spring Storms, SnoFros, and the Fabled Colorado Sun

As I rocket up the Northwest Parkway from Denver International Airport to Boulder, ashen clouds drift over the mountains and plant themselves above the highway, hovering so closely to the ground that they nearly cling to the pavement. The robo-voice in the airport shuttle bus boasted in a faux-John Wayne cadence that Colorado sees sunshine 300 days a year. And it's certainly dry here, drier than I remember Colorado being. But today is one of the other 65 days because rain has arrived. It pelts my scurrying armadillo of a rental car as I close in on my destination.

The Northwest Parkway eventually joins the Denver-Boulder Turnpike and enters Boulder, weaving by the burnt reds and browns of the University of Colorado campus. Nearby, strip malls and national chains confront me. I've seen that Barnes & Noble, that Einstein Bros., that Whole Foods Market, that Starbucks before. Were it not for the beauty of the foothills and the Flatirons rising over the college and city, I might despair at the dull sameness of the commerce.

My trek terminates in downtown Boulder. Unlike the outlying areas of the city, here independent shops and restaurants abound. To be sure, a Rise-of-the-Creative-Class ubiquity exists here, especially among the businesses that cluster along the Pearl Street Pedestrian Mall. A café called Snooze in Boulder is Café Patachou in Indianapolis. Pizzeria Locale is Pizzology or Napolese. Trattoria on Pearl is Ambrosia or Mama Carolla's. Atlas Purveyors is Hubbard & Cravens or Foundry Provisions. Yet it's important to remember that Boulder was creative class before creative class was cool. Boulder is a pioneer, not a coattail rider like so many other cities that have rushed to join the new urbanism.

Boulder. Home to the Brewers Association. Birthplace of Chuck Pagano, beloved by Colts fans. Home of the aforementioned University of Colorado, place of higher learning and perennial favorite in the "best party school" category. A hippie haven. The dream of the '60s is alive in Boulder. Is Boulder the Bloomington of the Rockies, or is Bloomington the Boulder of the Hoosier State?

And then there are Boulder's breweries.

To my good fortune, the storied Colorado sun has revealed itself upon my arrival in town. So after I stash my bags at the nineteenth century-era behemoth serving as my hotel, I bolt for West Flanders Brewing Company, which is two blocks away on the Pearl Street Mall. This brewpub's Belgian-style beers quench one's thirst for Flemish ales. To cite but one example, a beer called Angry Monk brings to mind the Trappist beers that Belgium is known for, the blonde brew leaving lingering notes of bananas and pepper on the tongue. It's not quite Orval, but it's more than an acceptable substitute. Wasabi deviled eggs and a plate of poutine prove to be the perfect culinary companion.

Late afternoon turns into evening as I stroll up Pearl Street to the venerable Mountain Sun Pub & Brewery. The pub's vibe brings to mind the Broad Ripple Brewpub, but less English and more hippie. Perhaps Louisville's Cumberland Brews is a closer analogue. Walk in and there's no place to sit at the short bar because there are no barstools. Stand and consume your pint, take a booth beside a tie-dye tapestry, or head outside for alfresco imbibing. Alfresco it is. I cannot pass up the chance to drink Boulder's beers in the setting Colorado sun. Half-pints during happy hour, which is much longer than an hour in Boulder. Half-pint number one is Korova Cream Stout on nitro. Silky, sweet, and chocolaty, not brutal like the patrons of its milk bar namesake. Resinous Rye IPA is the second half-pint--creamy, unfiltered, and piney as expected.

The next day brings a long day of work and, at blessed happy hour, another opportunity for Boulder's highly-touted beers. No opportunity to go far afield because an early day beckons tomorrow, so a restaurant pint it will have to be. Leaf is the name of the establishment. Vegetarian fare is its forte. This is Boulder after all. A veggie reuben? Why yes, let's see if it can compete with the Chicago Diner's renowned Radical Reuben. What beverage to accompany it? A spring snowstorm approaches, so a winter beer seems appropriate. Twisted Pine's Pearl Street Porter. Baltic. Smoky. Malty. Sweet. If Lithuanian weather is coming, I might as well drink like the Lithuanians. And the reuben? Good, but Chicago Diner is still the champion.

The snow comes that evening. And comes. And comes. Twenty-five miles south in Denver, our nation's best eleven resume their quest for a berth in the 2014 World Cup. An early goal for Deuce. In the second half, the referee almost calls the game because of the blizzard. But the players implore him to continue, and the game goes on. After 90, the result stands. The USA wins and the SnoFro is born in a match that will long be remembered.

The snow continues the next day. Come midday it is done. Evening arrives and a choice must be made. Limited time, limited options. It's either one brewery or another. Avery Brewing Company or Boulder Beer Company. A or B. I've had both A and B, and my apologies B, but A wins because, well, I've had A's beers and they are phenomenal. If I leave without visiting A's premises, I will forever regret it. So it's off to Avery in the already-melting snow. Yes, the sun shines again.

Avery sits on Boulder's outskirts in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it spot. Welcome to Three Floyds' western twin, another brewery in an industrial park. The taproom is a welcoming space, staffed by amiable and attentive servers who know their craft beer shit inside and out. And the beers? A murderers' row of brews. Beers like Bolder Weisse, a Berliner weisse that needs no syrup because it's exceptional alone, a tad more sour than your typical Berliner weisse. Beers like Eremita V, a sour ale in the style of Flemish browns, a beer that almost puts BFM's Abbaye de St. Bon-Chien to shame, a beer produced from an exquisite blend aged in Cabernet, Zinfandel, and whiskey barrels. And the finale, Lilikoi Kopolo, a Belgian-style wheat infused with passion fruit and well-paired with a bowl of calamari.

The next day, more sunshine. The blizzard that produced the SnoFro has enveloped Indiana. It is time to return to Indianapolis to unfortunately experience the storm again. But at least I was lucky enough to bask in the fabled Colorado sun.

Beer Diary - Jim | The Test of the Small Town

If you've lived in an urban center for long enough, you'll find that many of the big city's residents hail from suburbs and small towns. These places might be close to the city, or they might be far away. Some who grew up in these places are reluctant to talk about them, especially if the hometown in question is in the Midwest (or as coastal residents disparagingly refer to it, "flyover country"). Indeed, hatred of one's place of origin is nearly a national pastime. Books, movies, and albums have been written on the subject.

I too used to dislike my hometown. Sure, the town is the county seat, so it's more than just a few buildings at an intersection with a stoplight. It is also home to a small liberal arts college, so it isn't devoid of all culture. And its downtown area did not die the cruel, slow death that the downtown areas of other small Midwestern towns did in the '70's and '80's. Indeed, for a town of its size, my hometown probably has one of the liveliest downtowns in the state.

But when I was growing up there, there was little to do for a restless kid like me. The in-crowd cruised the local mall and went to cheap beer parties on weekends. Geeks like me stayed in and played Dungeons & Dragons, Gamma World, and Car Wars. I thought that the people who stayed in my hometown after high school or who came back after college were comfortable--too comfortable. I didn't want to be one of them. I wanted desperately to pass The Test of the Small Town and move on to someplace vibrant. Someplace larger. Someplace less homogeneous.

So 20 years ago, I left in search of urban life. My search eventually led me to Indianapolis. Admittedly, the city back then wasn't what I was hoping for when I landed there. I'd originally wanted to move to Chicago and often second-guessed my decision to move to Indy during the first five or six years that I lived there. But in many ways, Indianapolis has morphed into a fantastic place in which to live; it finally has much of the culture and vibrancy that I was seeking 20 years ago. I can truly say that I now love the city.

But after I left for Indy, my visits to my hometown were infrequent. I'd go back once a year, sometimes twice a year. To be sure, when I was there, I saw some change. A new store went up here. A new restaurant went up there. But I'd wonder again why anyone of my generation would choose to remain there. Snobby, elitist, childish--whatever you wish to call my attitude, it showed that I looked down on those who stayed behind.

Yet later visits showed me that there's a lot to like about my hometown. It has good schools. It's a great place to raise a family. It has some excellent restaurants and bars. It even has a great brewery. And my hometown has a comfortable familiarity; my family is still there, and good people live there. In short, I've come to realize that the people who decided to stay there were neither stupid nor "too comfortable"; they were wise.

A fair number of craft beer aficionados are like the urban snobs who look down on their hometowns. They're forever in search of the next "big" beer. They often ignore the simpler beers--the pilsners, the English pale ales, the brown ales, the traditional English IPAs, the bitters--the beers that have become the small towns of the craft beer world. I'm thinking of beers like Figure 8's Where Lizards Dare IPA  or Broad Ripple Brewpub's Lawnmower Pale Ale. Beers like Lafayette Brewing's Tippecanoe Common Ale and New Albanian's Community Dark Mild Ale. Beers like People's Pilsner and Fountain Square Brewing Company's Workingman's Pilsner. These are still craft beers to be sure. But for some, they're just not exciting enough.

However, just like a big-city dweller can grow tired of the noise, the crowded sidewalks, the rudeness of people, and the strips of concrete that have overrun nature, so too can the big-beer-seeker grow tired of the quest for the hefty barrel-aged beers, the palate-blowing sour ales, and the exclusive ales brewed by a handful of Belgian monks in a remote monastery. Sometimes, simplicity is desirable. After awhile, perhaps the best thing to do is pull a Thoreau and immerse yourself in the craft beer version of Walden.

In the end, passing the test of the small town is not seeing how quickly you can flee it; it's realistically appreciating the good things that the town has to offer.

Pictures of beer in Seattle

Seattle.  A city that needs no introduction to those acclimated to the world of craft beer.  And yet, I had never visited this fine epicenter of music, coffee and beer.  Two weeks ago, I atoned for my sins and paid homage to capital of the Pacific Northwest.  Thanks specifically to my friends Scott and Rachelle, who forced me out there by getting married.  As Jess and I made our way through downtown Seattle over a long weekend, I posted a series of pictures to the @hoosierbeergeek twitter account.  This is the explanation behind each of them.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 1 in a series.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 2 in a series.

Beers 1 and 2 were consumed at Elliott's Oyster House.  This destination wasn't chosen for its beer selection, but instead their progressive oyster happy hour.  Happy hour, as we soon learned, was an ubiquitous concept in Seattle.  At Elliott's, they offer a happy hour from 3-6.  At 3, the oysters are 75 cents each, and they go up by 50 cents each hour.  We arrived at 4, which meant we had to pay the exorbitant rate of $1.25 for each fresh, Puget Sound oyster.  Obviously you can see why we chose this destination.  The tap list kept us at least a dozen oysters longer than we planned to stay, offering up around 16 Pacific Northwest options.

Beer 1 was Mac and Jack's African Amber, which came recommended from a number of friends.  I was on vacation, so I didn't take notes on anything, so experiences come to mind more quickly than flavor descriptions.  I hadn't heard of Mac and Jack's prior to this trip, so I was somewhat wary of my order.  Fortunately, no one led me astray with their recommendation.  Mac and Jack's African Amber renewed my interest in the Amber style.  The perfect balance between a nut brown and a pale ale, this was certainly not my last African Amber on this trip.

Beer 2 was the current rotating IPA at Elliott's, Lucille IPA.  I didn't know if that was a brewery or a beer name, but I was on vacation and I love trying new things.  Later, I found out this was from Georgetown Brewing Company, located right in Seattle.  Following up the African Amber was no easy feat, but Lucille did it.  Many know that my favorite IPAs offer a balance between malt and hops.  Much like the Crown Special Forces IPA or People's HopKilla, Lucille offered plenty of American hops and a satisfying malt background.  I was pleased, but we were full of oysters and needed to keep moving.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 3 in a series.

After Elliott's, we decided to cut through Pike's Place, which led to us stumbling upon Post Alley.  In a bit of serendipity, we walked past Pike Brewing while walking down Post Alley.  A brewpub in Pike's Place?  How convenient!  Pike Brewing offered up an eclectic brewing museum, full of kitsch from around the world.  Not sure which of their beers to make my first, beer 3 was actually a sampler of beers.  Lots of beers here, and with the exception of the stout, pretty much every one was some degree of hoppy.  My favorite, however, was not on the sampler tray.  Jess ordered the Space Needle IPA, which was brewed to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Space Needle.  We enjoyed it so much that we took a bomber back to the hotel.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 4 in a series.

The next day, we stopped in at Serious Pie for lunch.  I won't go on and on about how great the crust and combinations of toppings were (and they were).  Instead, let's discuss beer 4.  When the menu has a  chef collaboration beer on it, you can almost guarantee I'm going to order it.  Chef collaboration beers are all the rage in Chicago, so I'm very familiar with them.  This one is the 3.14 ale from Elliott Bay (get it? pi.) and is made from all organic ingredients.  A lighter, sessionable ale that seems to be targeted more at light beer drinkers, this one didn't really grab me.  It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, it just didn't stand out among the beers I had up to that point.  Luckily the pizza did.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 5 in a series.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 6 in a series.

Beer 5 was my first beer at Elysian, which happened to be only a few blocks from our hotel.  Elysian is known for their pumpkin beers, of which they have a lengthy repertoire.  Since they are so popular, the pumpkin beers that had gone on tap throughout the week had already blown.  A long list of hoppy beers and other enticing options still remained.  Beer 5 was the Maelstrom Blood Orange Ale, one of Elysian's beers of the apocalypse.  Not as tart or wheaty as a traditional wit, as I was expecting, this beer offered a nice fruity flavor without being overly sweet or orange juice-like.  Beer 6 is one that I have forgotten the name of, but I remember that it was an IPA that contained oatmeal.  I recently brewed a session IPA that contained oatmeal, inspired by an oatmeal IPA that I had at Deschutes.  This one continued my interest in the style and contained a respectable amount of Pacific Northwest hops.  Food portions of sweet potato fries and hummus were both ridiculously large.  Truly a great brewpub.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 7 in a series.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 8 in a series.

Later that night, we went to the Garage, which was a huge bowling alley / pool hall / bar in Capitol Hill.  The beer selection was not as great as many of our other destinations, but we were not without plenty of craft options.  Beer 7 was Manny's Pale Ale, which was perhaps the most popular beer for local bars to carry.  Just as I am writing this article, I had to look up that Manny's is brewed by Georgetown.  I didn't see the brewery associated with this beer at any bar that I visited, which I found quite odd.  The beer itself was not nearly as remarkable as Lucille, but it was a good Pale option in its own right.  Its popularity is not unfounded.   Beer 8 was Deschutes Obsidian Stout.  Most of our readers are probably very familiar with Deschutes, who is known for brewing great beers overall.  If you haven't had Deschutes, you really can't go wrong with any of their beers.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 9 in a series.

Beer 9 comes to us from Six Arms, which is part of the McMenamins family of brewpubs.  Six Arms was certainly the most creative brewpub that we visited, with a large collection of bizarre plumbing, Indian themes and odd figurines.  The beer pictured is Monkey Wrench (or Monkey something, there were a lot of monkey themed beverages), which was a double IPA, or maybe a hoppy strong ale.  Either way, it was nicely balanced and very enjoyable.  I had never been to a McMenamins, but I will certainly visit one again.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 10 in a series.

Ah, beer 10, Pyramid Hefeweizen.  After a night filled with much celebration, wine and Red Hook, I found myself with a reasonable hangover.  I also found that Hefeweizen might be my ideal hangover beer.  The citrus and banana flavor of this well balanced Hefeweizen hit the spot on a warm, sunny Seattle day.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 11 in a series.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 12 in a series.

Everyone tells you to go to Brouwers.  I don't disagree that Brouwers is likely the best pub in Seattle, but it's also not downtown.  In my internet reading, I found a bar by the name of The Pine Box.  Perhaps most importantly, one of the owners at the pub was a manager at Brouwers.  Perhaps most awesomely, The Pine Box is in the same funeral home that housed Bruce Lee's funeral.  A bar in Portland called Bailey's introduced me to a cool tap list technology that used the same source list for the tap list at the bar and the tap list on the website.  The Pine Box is using something similar.  I have no idea why no one in Indianapolis is doing this.

Beer 11 is Russian River Supplication.  Enough Said.  Beer 12 is Ninkasi Lady of Avalon, which is a schwarzbier, fed through a randall full of hops.  Ultimately, the hops were probably unnecessary, since the base beer was good by itself.  It is remarkable that they have an in-line randall for one of their taps and offer by randall-ed and un-randall-ed versions of the same beer on tap.  It's not just hops, either.  Prior to Lady of Avalon, they were feeding Firestone Walker Union Jack through lavender.  I certainly would recommend this bar to anyone visiting Seattle, especially people who have been to Brouwers.  I'm curious how it compares.

Pictures of beer in Seattle, number 13 in a series.

Our trip ended with a Deschutes Black Butte Porter in the Seattle-Tacoma airport.  Simple and well executed.  I can't wait to go back to Seattle.  And I didn't even mention all the coffee shops we stopped at.

Beer Diary | Change

But I'm losing my edge

to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent

and they're actually really, really nice.
-- LCD Soundsystem

What exactly is Hoosier Beer Geek? With Mike's departure, I've been asking myself that question a lot lately. Unfortunately, I haven't had a lot of time to think about the answers.

But I think the question is an important one, especially because I consider Mike to have been an enormous part of Hoosier Beer Geek's soul. That's not to discount the contributions the rest of us have made. Indeed, we are all Hoosier Beer Geek's heart and part of its soul too. We've all worked hard for the Brewers of Indiana Guild. We've done our best to showcase Indiana's brewers and beer bars. And we have tried to inject our unique perspective into what we write here. We've never wanted to be just another beer review blog.

Yet Mike's off-kilter sense of humor, his stream of excellent ideas, his devotion to the world of craft beer--all of these attributes of his were integral to setting the tone of this blog. (I can see Mike reading this now and probably wanting to hide. But I can't fault him for that. In fact, his humility is another one of his positive attributes). Numerous times, Mike said, "Hey, let's do X" and the rest of us said, "Yes, great idea!"

But change has come. Change. Mike's departure is a big change, but much change has occurred in Indiana's craft beer scene as well over the last six years. Things have grown so quickly that it's difficult to keep up with all the craft beer happenings in Indianapolis and around the state. New breweries and beer bars are opening at a rapid rate. More beers from out-of-state craft breweries are now being distributed in Indiana. And there's the challenge of seeing more craft beer available than there is time to try all of it.

Change. The Knights of the Beer Roundtable are changing. We have less time to devote to writing here. We have our own kids who need our guidance, and we have other family members who need us as well. We have increasing demands on our time from our jobs. And we have to fight the "been there, done that" syndrome that tends to set in when one has been doing something for a long time.

Change is frightening. Change can cause paralysis. But change is also exciting. Change brings new opportunities. So what is Hoosier Beer Geek now? Here's what it is:

We still love great beer and are still drinking it. We're still making new friends in Indiana's community of brewers and beer people. We're still marveling at the growth of the craft beer industry in this state. We aren't, however, writing as much, but we're still writing. We aren't staging as many of our own events, but we'll certainly have some in the future. In short, we hope that these changes don't make us any less valuable as contributors.

Change.

The Louisville Beer Trail

In my experience, vacationers usually fall into one of three classes. The first class consists of folks who are looking mostly for leisure. These are the people who travel to resorts in places like Mexico or the Caribbean to lie on the beach, hit the resort's buffet, play golf or tennis, and just generally escape the demands of workaday life. I call this vacationer the "comfort-seeker."

The second class of vacationer looks primarily for culture at his destination. This person yearns for the museums, the restaurants, the shops, the pubs, the art galleries. He wants to do what the locals do and fills each day with an agenda that immerses him in the local culture. A metropolis is his haven. I call this vacationer the "urban explorer."

The third kind of vacationer falls somewhere between the comfort-seeker and the urban explorer. She needs down-time on her vacation, yet she gets restless at the thought of being unable to fully interact with the locals. Anyone who's been to a vacation resort knows that it can almost be isolating, especially if the resort is in a second- or third-world spot. So this vacationer (for whom I don't have a nice snappy name) will travel to places that possess a good blend of leisure and culture.

My guess is that most people fall into the third class. But I'm squarely in the urban explorer camp. Now this is just a preference for me--I can hang with the occasional beach vacation--but it's a very strong preference.

A few years ago, a friend who knew this preference brought Louisville to my attention. At the time, I'd been to Louisville only once, and that was for a five-hour visit to the University of Louisville. So I knew little of what the city had to offer and was confused by his suggestion. Seeing my quizzical look, my friend assured me that the urban explorer in me would enjoy the city.

My friend proved to be wise because Louisville is a city that is endowed with a rich culture. To the city's great benefit, this culture flows not from national chains or generic sources, but rather from local, independent roots. Indeed, Louisville is the increasingly rare American city that strongly values this sort of independent culture. "Keep Louisville Weird," they say. Okay, they say "Keep [Insert City Name] Weird" in a growing number of cities these days, especially in the cities trying to mold themselves according to Richard Florida's models. But in Louisville, they really mean it when they say, "Keep Louisville Weird." You can't help but be charmed by the quirky uniqueness of the place. And this uniqueness is very much reflected in the city's businesses, whether those businesses are restaurants, food markets, bars, boutiques, or breweries.

Take the gastropub Holy Grale, nestled in The Highlands, the district which is the center of Louisville's independent spirit. Headquartered in an old Unitarian church, Holy Grale draws those who seek communion with hard-to-find European-style beers. At this pub, a goblet of Bockor's Cuvée des Jacobin Rouge may hammer one's palate with tartness, but the beer simultaneously lifts one's spirits. Or a tall glass of Mikkeller's Bloody Show Pilsner, brewed in collaboration with Louisville brewery Against The Grain, flowers with bitterness and citrus because it was brewed with blood oranges.

A trip to the arts-oriented East Market District takes you to Against The Grain. Against The Grain embodies Louisville's independent spirit with its irreverence. For instance, the brewery's brown ale is named "Brown Note," apparently after an infamous episode of South Park (aren't they all infamous?). And ATG is not just a brewery; it's a smokehouse too. So of course they brew a rauchbier, whimsically called "Raucho Man Randy Beverage" (R.I.P. Macho Man). While smoked beers don't appeal to me, coffee beers certainly do. ATG has an amazing coffee beer that came about when the brewery played well with another local. The local in question is coffeehouse Heine Brothers Coffee. Together, they gave birth to Heine's Big Bro, an imperial oatmeal espresso stout that one could rightly call a mocha in beer form.

On Barret Avenue at Lynn's Paradise Cafe for breakfast or lunch, you'll find yourself immersed in a kitsch explosion. If the B-52s had stopped making music and started designing restaurants, Lynn's Paradise Cafe would have been their prototype. Sit down at a booth and a menagerie of plastic animals greets you. Your table is a miniature zoo. What's the Kentucky angle here? Bourbon milkshakes. Thick-sliced bacon. Biscuits with house-made gravy. Eggs with yolks so gold-yellow that you'll have to wear sunglasses just to dig into them. And this place is no one-note tourist trap. Plenty of locals eat here.

Back in the Highlands on Bardstown Road, happy hour is being celebrated at Cumberland Brewery. This small brewery hails from the era when it seemed that most brewmasters had spent a few years of their lives following the Dead before they settled down to brew beer. Cumberland fits right into that free-spirited theme. English style beers are in abundance as regular brews, but a springtime-appropriate wit, saison, and doppelbock are also on the menu.

But first, sustenance. A Kentucky evening calls for fried green tomatoes, served with a spicy remoulade. Breaded with cornmeal, fried perfectly, and brimming with tartness. And the doppelbock calls. Anti-Coagulator is its name. The caramel and brown sugar of the malt certainly keep the blood flowing freely.

Last stop in the urban exploration: a return trip to the East Market District for a visit to The Louisville Beer Store. The Louisville Beer Store is exactly what its sign says, but it's more as well. Walls and walls of bottles and cans plus eight taps. So much to choose from. Some experts in cognitive behavior have criticized the perils of having too much choice; they say the mind can only handle so much. Apparently, if you keep on opening door after door, you become lost.

But when it comes to beer, the experts are wrong. It's possible to choose well when it comes to all that beer; it's just that you may have to make multiple trips to do your choosing. And there's certainly nothing wrong with that, especially when it's likely that different beers will be on tap during your next trip.

Choices -- This time, the choices are an armful of hard-to-find sour beers but also a pint of Lexington Brewing Company's Kentucky Coffee Stout. For a brewery known for its bourbon barrel ale, they have made a coffee stout to be reckoned with. Do you remember the Folger's Crystals switch? Secretly substitute Kentucky Coffee Stout for, say, Schlafly's highly regarded Coffee Stout and chances are that you'd fool the drinker.