Sipping in the South: My Louisville Beercation Part 2

After 40 winks at the Whiskey Row Cambria, I awake rested from the previous night’s adventures. I pop down to the hotel restaurant called the Jackdaw Coffee Bar. I am sure I could have been a lot more intrepid about my first meal of the day, but I was tired. The omelette I had was fine and the coffee was passable. The service was friendly and as far as hotel breakfasts go, it wasn’t horrible.

Against The Grain Public House

It is Friday morning and our first event of the day is lunch at Against the Grain Public House. Against the Grain is the only Kentucky brewery I have ever heard of. So, I am excited to see what they have on tap other than what they distribute. I decide that a stroll will do me good, and I begin the short walk to the brewery. Luckily, the temp is not super hot, but I did see that the forecast calls for some heat and possibly rain.

Against the Grain is located next to Louisville Slugger Field, the home of the Louisville Bats. The Louisville Bats are the AAA affiliate for the Cincinnati Reds. As fate would have it, the Louisville Bats were in St. Paul playing the Saints, so we were not able to attend a game. The stadium is very classic looking. Lots of dark red brick and it reminds me a lot of Coors Field in Denver, Colorado.

In the short walk to the brewery, I begin to feel the Louisville heat. I am thankful that we are sitting inside. The brewery has a very tall ceiling and you can see the brewing equipment up on the second level through windows above the bar. The beer list is quite extensive consisting of many beers I have never heard of. The food menu looks good, too.

Against the grain is worth it for the food

Like a fool, I attempt to go the healthy route and order a buffalo chicken wrap. I soon realize that I chose poorly when Kendall’s chicken tenders arrive. The Against The Grain Mexican Lager, El Nopal, I go with is refreshing and the perfect foil for the spiciness of the buffalo chicken in my wrap. The wrap is delicious, but Kendall’s chicken tenders look like they were harvested from condors that were on a steady diet of human grown hormones. I am so smitten with these chicken tenders that I would wind up going back for them again later in the trip.

Everyone at the table seems to be enjoying their beers. Today, we are also getting another arrival of friends from Oklahoma. Brian and Amy will be getting into town around 1pm after dropping their kiddos off at the in-laws. I first met Brian in Milwaukee and he is really fun to hang out with. He is also the foremost authority on all things craft beer in Oklahoma. His wife, Amy, is an absolute gem who I am glad I got to meet. They are both very easy-going folks who add more fun to the group. If we were in the Fellowship of the Ring, we never would have made it to Mordor because we would have kept finding places to drink along the way.

The food is great and the beers are also good. My second beer is the Bock-A-Doodle-Doo. This beer is also good with a decent dark malt character. However, today isn’t about picking apart the beers, it is about enjoying the moment with friends. Dave is regaling us with all the fun stops that he made on his trek from Chicago. June, Kendall’s wife, is throwing out some really funny one-liners that you might miss if you weren’t paying attention, and I am just taking it all in. What is great about a group like this is that you can really sit back and listen because everyone has so many great stories and experiences in the craft beer world to share.

The group starts to peel off as we prepare to meander to the Louisville Slugger Bat Factory. Dave and Hamilton still have 3/4 full beers. Michelle asks if I want to play pinball. We head to a little side room that has several cool pinball machines. I select the Jaws-themed one. I am not good at pinball, but I do enjoy playing and all the fun little things that happen when your pinball careens into different spots on the board.

We blow through a few dollars and before we know it, our Lyft is on the way. Michelle is a lot of fun. She has a great sense of humor and a wonderful smile. If I had known Michelle in middle school, we would have constantly been laughing in class and probably would have been a nightmare for our teacher. Luckily, we met as adults and can freely laugh like crazy at breweries and bars and there are no negative repercussions.

The Louisville Slugger Museum and Bat Factory Is A Must-Do!

We head to the Louisville Slugger Museum & Bat Factory, which is something I recommend everyone experiences. Whether you are a baseball fan or not, there are so many interactive and enjoyable activities and displays to enjoy. Of course, for me, baseball was my first love and so I am absolutely jazzed.

Pro-Top: Find the video game room!

We arrive at the Louisville Slugger Bat Factory and there is a huge replica bat outside. We have about 15 minutes before our tour so I beeline towards the video game room. In college, while most students were cracking the books in the library, I was honing my craft and breaking the hearts of Tom Dahl and Tom Davis as I consistently dominated them in RBI Baseball for the Nintendo Entertainment System. I would always pick the New York Mets despite being a diehard Minnesota Twins fan. Tom Dahl majored in Actuarial Science and created spreadsheets to keep track of our stats and head-to-head records. His roommate, Tom Davis, was a business major from rural Wisconsin. Tom Davis had flannel in his DNA. He epitomized the saying, “You can take the boy out of Wisconsin, but you can’t take Wisconsin out of the boy.”

Warning: Video Games Cause Nostalgia!

Tom Dahl and Tom Davis were roommates on the south wing of the 3rd floor of Ireland Hall at the University of St. Thomas. They shared a suite, which, in our dorm, felt like the presidential sweet of the Plaza Hotel compared to my single room which was more like a glorified broom closet with a sink. Since they shared the same first name, we all just referred to them as Tom 1 and Tom 2. Despite sharing most of his genetic code with Grizzly Adams, Tom Davis could read and actually spent quite a bit of time at the library. Now, I’m not here to stereotype Wisconsin country bumpkins, but other than him, I have never seen a grown man weep openly after getting a John Deere blanket as a gift from his girlfriend.

Tom Dahl was a reserved and introverted brainiac from Moorhead, Minnesota. He was incredibly smart and was obsessed with 80s hair bands. He also possessed a fervor for candy, the likes of which I had never seen before. If Wilford Brimley had known how much sugar Tom Dahl consumed, he would have had to enter the witness protection. I could just see Tom Dahl disappearing one day and eventually being found behind the Pearson’s Candy Factory with the words “It’s the Right Thing To Do” drizzled on his stone-cold corpse in chocolate syrup.

A Quirky Group Of Toms

This is a long-winded way of saying that I had an eclectic circle of friends back in the day. When Tom Davis would return from his studies late at night, my dorm room phone would ring and I would throw on my slippers and head down the hall to room 327. We would play RBI Baseball, drink Mountain Dew, and listen to Alice Cooper, Motley Crew, and Def Leppard as I would take on each of them with my New York Mets in RBI Baseball.

A Perfect Night For RBI Baseball

I don’t know if it was a fluke, or if asbestos that had fallen into my Ramen Noodles that night or what, but I was feeling it. One auspicious evening, I faced Tom Davis and his Boston Red Sox. In RBI Baseball, the Boston Red Sox had a formidable lineup. However, it was their starting pitcher, a pre-steroid Roger Clemens, who made it quite difficult to get any runs across. I had Doc Gooden on the mound and he was dealing. I scratched a few runs together and had a 2-0 lead heading into the 7th inning. The trick in RBI Baseball is to try to ration the amount of fastballs your pitchers throw to get them deeper into the game before having to use your bullpen.

I had mastered moving the ball to the side to just escape the bat. This made it very difficult for the batter to get any solid contact and the outs kept piling up. It gets to the 9th inning and I decide to see if Gooden can go the distance. What I also realized was that there were 24 straight outs on the screen. I was on the precipice of RBI Baseball immortality.

The last 3 batters took forever to retire. There was also the stress of whether or not Tom Davis would have one of his meltdowns and hit the reset button to start the game over. Normally, Tom Davis would play the game leaning back in his recliner from the 70s that he called the “Command Chair”. Tonight, we was sitting on the very edge of it and the entire chair remained lurched forward as if it was ready to flip him over like a chef at Benihana’s chucking a shrimp tail into someone’s front pocket.

As I made it to the last batter, my palms were sweaty, my adrenaline was surging, and I was happy that I didn’t have a girlfriend to spend time with so I could pursue this type of quality time with my friends. I mean, sure, would I have rather been at Ciatti’s with a gal intoxicated by the sweet smell of perfume and breadsticks? Of course, who wouldn’t. However, sometimes the universe has a greater plan.

I was down to the final batter. There were 28 outs in the books, 7 crushed Mountain Dew cans in the recycling, and an opportunity to be great that was just within reach. I don’t know how, but I got the final out on a weakly hit grounder to the second baseman. I gave Tom Dahl a high five while Tom Davis threw his controller down and leaned back in his command chair disgusted and disappointed. The amount of yelling that followed was insane. It was probably 2:45 in the morning, but we didn’t care. To this day, I don’t think I have done anything that was quite as difficult as pitching a perfect game in RBI Baseball.

A Baseball Fan’s Dream

I say all that because the first thing I saw when I entered the videogame room at the Louisville Slugger Bat Factory was an old school Nintendo with RBI Baseball. There were also every other baseball game for every console ever made available to play! This is just one of the wonderful activities to choose from. We walked around and there is a station where you can hold the actual game-used bat of a player from every team in Major League Baseball. I learned that Michelle actually went to school with Ryan Zimmerman, a career Washington National, and one of the bats available to hold. I saw that Rod Carew’s bat was one of the options and I held it with reverence.

It was time for our tour and there were about 20 of us in the group. The tour is absolutely fascinating. From how the wood is harvested to when players come down to select what kind of bat they will use is all wonderful. You even get a souvenir mini-bat to take home!

I was quite excited to see that Royce Lewis, a current Twin who is amazing, had his bats there to be able to see. I was amazed at how much of the process is human-made and not automated. It is a very hands-on process and somehow, that adds to the romanticism of it all.

Swing Hard In Case You Hit Something!

After the tour, we got in the batting cages to see if we could tear an oblique muscle and make a memory. I selected Cal Ripken Jr.’s replica bat and attempted to make contact. I think I got the bat on 5 of the 10 pitches and even manage to hit a few of them into fair territory.

Some little kid was critiquing my swing like he was the second coming of Ted Williams, which only added to the fun. He kept saying, “Late,” as if that was the only reason I was fouling off the balls. We all took our turns and it was so fun. There are few times in life when failing at something physical that used to be easy will only set you back $2.oo. We watched as Derek Jeter Jr. got in the batting cage and proceeded to miss EVERY SINGLE BALL. While I felt bad, I also thought that it was a good lesson in karma for the little leaguer.

Well, after swinging the bats, we have worked up quite a thirst. We either need some muscle relaxers and a hot tub or a stiff drink. We try to get into the Michter’s cocktail room since it is right across the street, but it is quite a wait for a party of 12. Then we decide to head over to Proof on Main, a cocktail bar and restaurant.

Proof On Main

Proof on Main is a wonder. The bar is bright and sparkly with all sorts of titillating art on the walls. There is a brass statue of the devil on the bar tempting patrons to either eat an apple or give into your desires for spirits. I mean, I know there is a farmers market back home where I can get an in-season Honeycrisp in the fall, so I opt for an Old Fashioned. This is the first of many Old Fashioneds that I will have on the trip. The Bourbon list reads like an unabridged copy of the Canterbury Tales. The amount of choices are mind-boggling. People are ordering their drinks and the bartender is making them with ease.

We grab a few high top tables and begin enjoying our drinks. I went with Maker’s Mark for my Old Fashioned and it is delicious. We are chatting and setting our coordinates for the next stop, Gallant Fox Brewing, where we are scheduled for happy hour. One thing I will say about this crew, there is really no half speed for us. We are go, go, and go. There are so many wonderful things packed into the day and I realize that we are just scratching the surface of the fun.

Michelle gets the message that Chris and Jeff’s flight has landed so she goes back to the hotel to meet them. We finish up our drinks and caravan over to the next brewery stop.

Gallant Fox Brewing

I love breweries of all kinds. However, when there is a unique vibe and the beer is good, that brewery sticks with me. Gallant Fox Brewing, named after an American Thoroughbred horse who won a triple crown back in the thirties, is a fantastic place to hang out.

The taproom is cozy with a nice skylight to illuminate an otherwise mood-lit space. All the wood paneling reminds me of being in a friend’s basement. There are quite a few people here and all the bar seats are full. Luckily, we commandeer a high top that can fit everyone around it.

As I walk over to the other end of the bear to read the list of beers on tap, I glance behind the bar. There are quite a few shelves of Bourbon. I’m not just talking the brands of Bourbon you see everywhere in Minnesota like Makers’ Mark and Knob Creek. I am talking the fancy Bourbons that typically reside on the top shelf of beer bars and are quite cost-prohibitive for the casual drinker. Now I am in a conundrum, do I stick with beer because it is only 5:30pm, or do I try some of these hard to find bottles of Bourbon?

I decide to err on the side of reasonable and get a beer flight. The mix of beers available on tap definitely screams summer. Although, I was happy to see both a porter and a Dry Irish Stout on tap to balance out the light and hoppy options. I try to get a mix of things. Of the beers that I try, my favorites are the Red Fox (amber lager) and Sir Gallahad (Irish Dry Stout). The others are good, but not nearly as memorable.

What is quite memorable is the laughter and conversation that we are all having. There is Jenga being played, lots of stories being shared, and new stories being created. I think that one thing about our group is that we are all very good at picking back up where we left off from the last time we all hung out.

The beers at Gallant Fox are delicious, however, the siren call of Bourbon is starting to break through and my palate is intrigued. I remember the old adage from when I was in Finishing School that said, “Beer before liquor, never been sicker.” Yet, I am also thinking to myself that they have a bottle of Kentucky Owl Confiscated in 1916 behind the bar that is very affordable for a 2 ounce pour. Decisions, decisions…

Well, I decide to embrace the aura of the Southern Gentleman, and I go for the Bourbon. The minute I taste my first sip and give at a “Kentucky chew”, a Bourbon-tasting term for coating your mouth with your first sip so it can acquaint itself with your palate, I know I will not regret this choice. The Kentucky Owl Confiscated has an enticing citrus aroma. The flavor has a little bit of toffee and almost like a poundcake flavor. The finish is a bit spicy and warming in the best possible way.

I’m just wowed by the fact that I can have a jaw-dropping pour of Bourbon in a brewery. This would not fly in the rooted-in-Puritanical-restraint-type of laws that govern Minnesota’s brewery scene. While I would love to stay and continue dabbling in the Bourbon, we have a dinner reservation. Dinner should be fun as our group is now considerably chattier than when we first gathered at noon thanks to several servings of loudmouth soup throughout the day.

Mussel & Burger Bar-Louisville

When I heard we were dining at the Mussel & Burger Bar, I immediately thought it was going to be some sort of immersive Cross-Fit and meat raffle avant garde experience. It turns out the name is more an illustration of what is most prodigious on their menu-mussels and burgers.

Thankfully, we made a reservation because the bar area is packed. While we are waiting for our table to be set, we take advantage of the cocktail samples that a representative from Angel’s Envy is slinging at a table by the door. Several hours ago, our approach to these samples would have been a lot more measured. We might have had a laundry list of questions about the samples. What ingredients are being used in the cocktails? What specific offerings under the Angel’s Envy brand umbrella are being used in which drink? Which food pairing would work best if you were within thirty yards of the equator?

Now, our only concern is whether or not we can we have all three samples. After tasting the cocktail samples, we are led through the bar/restaurant outside and down a flight of stairs. There is a beautiful patio that we seem to have all to ourselves. The oppressive heat of the afternoon has clocked out and given way to a comfortable breeze.

“The waiter takes our drink order and it reads like the provisions wishlist of an entire military academy being sent off to war.”

Anonymous Diner at Mussel & Burger Bar

Now, I mentioned that we are all quite chatty and happy. Our waiter, a young and tatted-up gent, who is probably at least ten years younger than me, has a Herculean task ahead of him this evening. He has to deal with 12 grown-ups who’ve been drinking since noon and are chin-wagging like it is an Olympic sport. The waiter takes our drink order and it reads like the provisions wishlist of an entire military academy being sent off to war. Our waiter handles everything with aplomb and we quickly realize that nobody will go thirsty this evening.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, mussels in Louisville?!?!?! Believe me, I’m thinking the same thing. Armed with the information that I only packed so many pairs of boxers and shorts, I’m not willing to roll the dice with bivalves that may or may not incite a digestive episode resembling of the stage show, Stomp, I decide on a burger.

When it comes time to order our entrees, I am thankful that our server starts down at the other end of the table. I am waffling between the Bacon Breakfast Burger and Spanish Blue. I ask out waiter which one he recommends and says that the Bacon Breakfast Burger is one of their most popular choices.

Then he adds, “I should warn you that it comes with a sunny side up egg on top.” To which I quip back, “Oh, that is perfect because one time, someone tried to slip a moon side up egg on my burger and I walked out.” Expecting a hearty guffaw followed by a belly laugh, I waited with excitement. However, the waiter just stared at me deadpan and said, “So you are going to go ahead with the egg, then?” Either he was not amused and had heard that line a million times, or he was just done with us.

Well, everyone else was in stitches. And on into the night we went. While everyone else enjoys their food, I keep thinking that this evening is so perfect. The setting, the company, and the sunny side up egg are all just gifts from the galaxy tonight. We wrap things up and sort out the bill. It is now around 8:30 and time to head to our next destination in Indiana.

The Union Restaurant & Game Yard

One of many positive things about today was that we managed to get in a variety of different activities. I love a beer-centric kind of a day, but I think that the mark of true friendship is when you move beyond the activity/hobby where you originally met. Yes, we are all beer writers, at heart. However, the years have allowed us to explore our personalities and deepen friendships so that we can enjoy doing a variety of different things together. Our evening at The Union Restaurant and Game Yard is the perfect illustration of that.

Big Gulps of yuengling lager & bocce ball

It is quite apropos that the first time I ever tried a refreshing Yuengling Lager, I was at a Beer Now Conference. We had gone to a bar in Loudon County, Virginia, for some Karaoke. It was an absolute blast and I remember being really excited to try a beer from one of the oldest family-owned breweries in the country, Yuengling Brewing.

Since I cannot get Yuengling in Minnesota, I like to try it when I find it on my travels. Rick, Paige, and I take a short Lyft ride from the Mussel & Burger Bar across the bridge to Jeffersonville, Indiana. The Union Restaurant & Game Yard is in a cool little neighborhood with a lot of cool places to eat and drink. We arrive and the weather is perfect. No humidity to speak of and as the sun continues to go down, the air just continues to get more comfortable.

We head up to the bar, and I see a Yuengling tap handle. I ask Rick and Paige what they want, and they are also excited about Yuengling. So, I order a round of Yuengling Lagers, and the bartender asks if I want 12, 16, or 30 ounce pours. I tell the bartender that we want 30-ouncers. I mean, nobody wants to go thirsty when they are playing bags, right?

There are so many yard games to choose from that pair well with hoisting 30-ounce glasses of Yuengling Lager. It is almost too much to take. We secure a table and notice that there is an opening in the bags area. We want to also play Bocce, but there is a family of Hunyucks with a three year-old just sitting in the one end of the open Bocce court.

Now, to be fair, I am not a kid person. I am kidless by choice. So, when I see kids at a brewery, my first inclination is to bristle with annoyance. Most of the time, the parents of the kids are keeping an eye on them and are quite attune to the fact that other adults are there to enjoy adult time with adult beverages. In this instance, the kid is just being annoying and the parents/guardians are just sitting there without a care in the world. I guess this is why I opted for the 30-ounce beer.

Eventually, the Bocce Ball court opens up and we pounce on it. Now we have bags and Bocce Ball happening. While we are enjoying all of this, Chris and Jeff Estes arrive in their Lyft. They are from Castle Rock, Colorado, and they are some of my favorite people to hang out with. Jeff is Dean Norris, the actor who played Hank Schrader in Breaking Bad. He is hilarious and loves to just crack jokes and laugh. His partner, Chris is also hilarious and she kind of runs the show. Together, they are a wonderful pair. When they tell a story, they talk over each other and finish each others’ sentences. They are just salt of the earth people and when they arrive, our group is complete.

We are playing Bocce, drinking beers, and cannot stop laughing. The sun is down and it the Bocce Ball courts are illuminated by lights that are hanging on strings above. It turns out that Amy probably should have gone pro in Bocce Ball because she is absolutely mopping the floor with all of us.

Eventually, we find ourselves just sitting at the table and telling stories under the cloudless Indiana night. The glasses become lighter as our eyelids turn heavier and we start thinking about calling it a night. We have even more of an aggressive itinerary tomorrow so we will need our beauty sleep. Well, except for Hamilton, he is sexy all the time. So, we order up our Lyfts and head back to the hotel bar for a night cap. When we get there, we find that the hotel bar on Whiskey Row closes at 10pm on a Friday night. This seems just insane. So, I head up to my hotel room and crack into my emergency can of Pringles before some slumber.

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