Playing odds & ends catch-up.

It’s an odds and ends sort of day. Cognizant of my recent shortcomings of timeliness, I might try to back-post a few things if there’s time tomorrow.

I hated to miss the first Winterfest, which took place on Saturday night in Indianapolis. It was a wintertime beer festival staged by the Brewers of Indiana Guild (BIG), and from all accounts a tremendous success. Some day there’ll be time for involvement with the guild.

Some day. Really.

On Friday, a detachment of the NABC Bank Street Brewhouse project development crew enjoyed a drive to Madison, Indiana on a balmy January day. John, Jared, Gregg and I dropped in on the inimitable Steve Thomas at my favorite Indiana winery to score a keg of delish Scrumpy, and then after a few Gale’s Hard Ciders and cheese appetizers, we adjourned to Shipley’s for cheeseburgers and refreshments.

There was general amazement upon looking at the beer menu at this prototypical Indiana tavern and finding Little Kings Cream Ale on tap … but of course, it was a typo, and only bottles were available. I had two, anyway, resisting the impulse the entire time to throw them at road signs while seated indoors – such was the power of youthful instinct in the body of an older man.

The burgers are fine, indeed, and prepared the old-fashioned way right in front of you on the griddle behind the bar.

After lunch, we investigated the 605 Grill on Main Street, site of the late McQuiston’s, where a new owners are trying to make a go of a short bistro-style food menu and six good draft beers on weekend nights, with hopes to expand operations at some point in future. We’ll be placing an occasional keg of NABC beer there and hoping for the best in their efforts.

Saturday was highlighted by my buddy Jerry’s providential decision to score two fresh, genuine Havana cigars for a two-hour session at the Public House bar. We puffed and sipped on a gently aged (well, several months) bottle of Schlafly Biere de Garde, followed by a dessert beer of Struise Tsjeesus.

On Sunday, I met with Rita Kohn from Indy’s NUVO alternative newspaper, and she recorded me for an oral history project. It’s the second such taping I’ve done in a year, which leads me to conclude (a) I’ve become old, and (b) it’s time to write that damned book locked inside me.