vacay, it's ok

not much to report from the rest of beer week besides sipping on a few cans of this new beautiful canned beer, working my ass off, and trying to find a few hours here and there to take care of business and relax. what can i say? my beer week plans always seem to get away from me. i'm resolved to not care about it, though. there's always next year.

plus, i'm in full on, full swing (pre)vacation mode! ryan and i leave tomorrow for a week in san francisco and santa rosa. we'll put in some seriously necessary face time with brother steve, and BFF john s. i decided to celebrate my last day at work until next friday by spending my precious lunch hour watching a few innings of the phillies game and drinking a nice, crispy wheat beer at a local watering hole.

boulder sweaty betty - so good!

new shades

i hereby resolve to take tons of photos of all the food and drink awaiting me in northern california. expect a mega post upon my return!

love,
emily

beer wk: sunday boozy sunday

what better way to delay the consequences of a fun saturday night of beers and excessive high fiving, than a boozy brunch with a beautiful broad? that's how i started my sunday - met up with my friend D for the beer week special allagash brunch at the pope. over pancakes, tofu scramble and 2PM beers, we kicked off what would be the first of a multi-hour hang out sesh.

wish every brunch was an allagash brunch

D is a seasoned bartending veteran and a true beverage connoisseur , so i followed her lead when she ordered the allagash vrienden, which turned out to be a stunning ale in the flemish sour tradition. it was, we learned, an allagash collabo with new belgium brewery, brewed with dandelion greens and elderberries (the two breweries even blended their special yeast strains! isn't that cute?). the quiet amber liquid in this glass is the stuff beer week dreams are made of: tart, fruity, strong, and just the right amount of weird. i loved every little sip. i had hoped to catch a bit of the live set by our pals the glotones, but alas, they were breaking their gear down when we arrived.

after our plates were cleaned and cleared, D and i hightailed it over to her place of employ - and the only place in old city i'll regularly patronize - the khyber pass pub. they were in the midst of a supreme beer week jam: saison sunday! ten rare and immensely intriguing saisons on tap. oh dear.


the first of quite a few tulip glasses to grace the bar before us was la moneuse by the belgian brewery blaugies. malty, barn-y, aged to a nice warmth, but still wonderfully effervescent on the tongue, this was a classic saison. literally the perfect beer for a sunday afternoon, though perhaps a brasserie in belgium would have been a slightly more perfect place to be drinking it. no matter: a dim bar in philadelphia with D was a really good place to be, too.

i must confess that i forget which saison was second on my list. the sun was still shining a bit too brightly for the level of tips i was feeling, but our spirits were high, and we were deep in one of those great, rambling conversations. amongst a hundred other things, we talked about men and relationships, food and dietary choices, and going fishing as little kids. the third (and last?) saison i ordered was voodoo brewery's bitchin' camaro. this farmhouse ale is apparently a very new release from the brewery. so new, in fact, that there wasn't really a description for it on the draft list, and in the column listing abv there a mysterious "?." i distinctly remember that the last line of the description read something like, "any beer named after a dead kennedy's song can't be bad." though D wasn't crazy about it, i liked the hefty, malty, boozy kick in the teeth it gave me. if you're already getting loaded on super high quality beers on a sunday afternoon, why not go big?

after dutifully chugging some water, we called it a day, and headed home. woozily walking down walnut at sunset, we hugged on the corner of 6th street. D said she was going home to take a nap, but i was headed off to band practice in east falls. being tipsy on small quantity of good, strong beer is a distinctly light, energizing feeling, with 0% hangover. alright, alright...maybe just a 5% one.

love,
emily

beer wk, day II

philadelphians, rejoice! beer week is upon us. you may find yourself musing, a bit confusedly, "but isn't every week beer week?" if you partake in regular happy hours, distributor perusals, geek outs with the dudes at hawthorne's, backyard/park bottle top pops, etc. then the short answer is Yes. but capital B Beer Week offers hundreds (almost a thousand, some report) of special events across the city and the region in celebration of suds, the geniuses who craft it, and the nerds who love them. the past few annual Beer Weeks have expired with me consistently feeling like i didn't take advantage of enough of the awesome happenings, and this year i am determined to not let that happen. it's really too bad that i am as yet iPhone-less, because they've even rolled out a beer week app to help keep track of all the madness! seriously. dumb-phone laden as i may be, i won't let this one slip away without sampling at least half my weight in saisons, double IPAs and other such glorious libations.

so, i had to work on friday night, and thus missed the official first day of beer week. however, i did jam a few much needed pints of sixpoint at the abbaye afterward, so maybe that counts for something? last night, post-ballgame, ry and i decided to bike over to fishtown to the 'it's a firkin riot!' event at johnny brendas. the night air was cool enough to require a denim jacket, and the ride across town was just lovely. we rounded girard to frankford ave. to the familiar, fuzzy sight of this fine bar.

inside, our pal herbie was spinning all manner of british tunes, and hoisted above the bar in a purely brilliant set up (whoever built this thing deserves many accolades), was a row of the firkins, tapped and pouring beer like there was no tomorrow. for a quick and painless explanation of what a firkin is - by a badass bearded brewer dude no less - see here. the firkin loft was even outfitted with packs of dry ice (i think) to keep the beers mildly chilled. i can't get over how cool this apparatus was.

the $5, 10 ounce pours allowed for a wide variety of tastes, but i was most impressed by the weyerbacher verboten, a belgian style pale ale with all the crispy, clean, gentle fruity yeasty-ness i could ever ask for. these went down easy peasy. a little too easy...

i also tried the standard pils, a new local collabo beer that was a delightful quaff. as a few sweet friends joined us at the bar, our glasses were emptied and refilled as our tab did grow. herbie kept it solid at the turntables, and the place just got more and more packed out. i hazily realized that one potential down side of these beer week shenanigans is the increased presence of douchey dudes. i almost NEVER get approached by men at bars, but last night i was hit on by not one, but a handful of drunk, drunkie drunk drunk amateurs. i will give a certain red-cheeked young fellow credit for at least using "what beer should i order?" as a pick up line, instead of whatever other hack bullshit the ladies of the world must endure.

the bike ride home was punctuated by a stop at maoz, followed by an impromptu 2am viewing of the film indecent proposal. in a stroke of luck, i don't have to work my usual shift this morning, and so could sleep in, rock some brunch, and prepare for the day's beery activities...long live my liver!

love,
emily

tap that

it's proof that a place is special when you've been there countless times, and each visit renews your love tenfold. this is how i feel about the south philly taproom. yeah, the service might not always be at 100%, but i'm learning to chill out and slow down in my older age, and not get all annoyed when a server is sort of moseying around instead of hustling toward my table. the rest of sptr (or "spitter," as i sometimes call it) kicks so much ass that i can safely call it one of my favorite bars/restaurants in philadelphia.

the decor and layout of this joint are spot on. during the day with the windows open, the dining room is happy and breezy. at night, rustic vintage light fixtures keep the bar dim and cozy (but not too dark), good tunes float through the speakers (but not too loud), and you and whomever you're with can settle in for a real good time. the draft list consistently reads as a who's who of local craft beermakers with a few midwestern, west coast, and international brew dudes thrown in for good measure. i can always find something i'm stoked to sip on, and they have, like, a majillion bottles to choose from if you're not feeling draft-y.

the food menu is also simply stellar with clearly marked vegetarian options aplenty. vegans, fear not: the spitter has got you covered. there are some decent soups and salads, but their vegan hoagie - packed to the gills with savory tempeh, marinated mushrooms, lettuce, tomato and thinly sliced red onion - is not to be missed:

there is a wonderfully unconscionable amount of vegan mayo on this roll

sandwiches come with a side of thick cut fries, chopped salad, OR pasta salad. hooray for choices! to boot, $3 gets you a dish of bangin house made pickles and, according to the omnivores i know, they also prepare delicious meats. for brunch, the dairy-free inclined can rock a very interesting plate of mushroom studded tofu scramble that comes flanked with a watercress salad and hard-to-describe but FANtastic white rice dumplings.

it really does something for me when an establishment has different kinds of seating for different kinds of moods. the taproom offers lots of options: well worn stools at the long, curved bar, plenty of high top tables, intimate low round tables, and a big booth in the back by the windows, perfect for gathering with ten or so of your BFFs.

best seats in the house

south hicks & mifflin maybe used to seem like a random corner for a great lil pub, but the neighborhood has come a long way, and outside tables provide copious people and cute dog watching. they also frequently host cool events, including a well edited selection for the impending 2011 philly beer week (including a lagunitas "420" event on june 9th featuring stoner snacks - does it get any better?). sptr- what can i say but: i love you!

xo,
emily

non edible delights

on my way to work on tuesday, i had to stop at blick art supplies to grab some face paint for an upcoming event at the dorm i work in. despite the lingering sleep still in my eyes, i felt a nice buzz riding through downtown, watching the world crank up for the day. after locking my bike up on the corner of sansom and chestnut, i noticed this little sign right next to the door leading down to blick:

in a city as old as philadelphia, you see a lot of historical monument signs outside of buildings and homes, and while it's a cool reminder of how much has happened here, you sort of get used to it. however, this sign (or "tablet" as it refers to itself) gave me a distinct thrill. who on earth is the mystery admirer who placed it on this wall? what did eakin's studio look like in 1885? can anyone just put up a tablet commemorating an artist of historical significance? and calling yourself "an admirer" is so much more romantic than "anonymous," or a real name! maybe it was the lack of coffee in my system, but something about this sight just made me swoon with joy.

with a lingering smile, i bounded down the steps into blick. i forgot how visually overwhelming big art stores can be, and to add to it, this one in particular is lit insanely brightly, so everything just pops. my eyes immediately pulled me in a hundred directions, toward different colors, textures and shapes.

keep in mind that i don't actively make this kind of visual art. despite my years of art classes in middle and high school, i wouldn't really know what to do with a tube of oil paint or tiny plastic trees. the things i felt compelled to photograph don't appeal to me because i want to buy them - they're just weirdly pleasing to my eye.

wandering through the store, i thought about how a real artist might feel in here: aisles and aisles of glossy new materials and tools ready to make anything the heart desires. so much potential energy waiting to be unleashed through eyes and fingers out into the world. then it hit me - this is exactly how i feel upon entering a well-stocked grocery store or farmer's market. different items seem to whisper of what could be, and as i take it all in, ideas start to form in my brain, called into being by some mysterious force of creativity. so many things seem possible as i fill my cart with assorted sundries.

the connection between art and well prepared food shined brightly as i considered all this on the way to blick's kids section. whether it's a white wall, public park, or an empty porcelain plate, filling spaces with form and/or sensation that didn't exist before is what makes life tolerable, even beautiful. it's what makes us feel connected to one another. it's what prompted an admirer to hang a plaque for thomas eakins on a dirty gray wall in center city.


love,
emily

pack a bowl (full of salad greens)

it's not like dressing a salad with tongs or a wooden fork & spoon is that much of a chore, but something about it just annoys me. precious ingredients always go man overboard or i get balsamic on my white shirt or something. first world problems, i know. but sometimes, it's the little things that separates mundane tasks from being a pain in the ass and being no big deal. this set of bowls - in cheery crayon hues and sturdy as hell - are kitchen tools i find myself using almost every day. it might be funny to think of plain old mixing bowls as "tools," but they really do wonders. the secret is all in the lids!


they make the act of preparing a salad the easiest thing in the world. everything goes in, dressing is drizzled on top, lid is snapped on, and then you shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake. you get full, even coverage of dressing on the salad, with no sad dry greens hiding at the bottom.

trying to eat more spinach these days

the lid + shake technique is especially good with coleslaw. plus, for leftovers you don't need crappy tupperware - the bowl is its own leftovers container! you don't have to look too far for thrills in my kitchen. my set is by martha stewart (who i've learned to stop hating and start sorta appreciating), but there are surely other good brands if you think m.s. is a zombie lady and are loath to give her any of your money. ooh, here's some nice ones on amazon. a bit pricey, but anything that makes you want to eat more salad is a worthy investment, in my book.

love,
emily

lifesaver

for some reason or another (could've been my very recent birthday and the extension of the annual shenanigans? or the highly anticipated return of this reason for copious beer consumption?), this weekend was a doozy. without even really trying to, i partied with the gusto of a woman ten years my younger. raucous times with friends, ballgames, quality time with my fella: all were so, super fun, but i felt hella worse for the wear come this morning.

my idea of a "hangover cure" is usually coffee and some steely resolve. however, this morning i realized, while pawing around aimlessly through our fridge, that we had all the makings for one of my favorite breakfasts - and, coincidental nutrition-bombs - of all time.


kale smoothies! i was first introduced to the idea of raw kale pulverized with other, more traditional, smoothie ingredients by the wonderfully weird folks at the satellite cafe in my old stomping grounds of west philadelphia. i can't be sure, but i think their kale smoothie involves pineapple juice, kale, coconut milk and some other stuff. my at-home version was a bit different, but that is the beauty of smoothies, right? you can just throw whatever produce you've got into a blender, give that thing a whirl, and out comes a delicious breakfast beverage!

let's not front: it is the kale that saves your life. without it, you've just got some pulverized fruit and juice, which certainly does a world of good for your aching body as opposed to a jelly donut or whatever. but it's the beta carotein, vitamin and calcium packed green that somehow makes you feel like a million bucks (well, a thousand, maybe) when you woke up feeling like a piece of gum stuck to someone's shoe.

The Lifesaver
~takes 5 minutes
~makes 1 large, or 2 small smoothies

ingredients:
1 cup of kale, tough stems removed and torn into small pieces
1/2 cup plain low fat or soy yogurt
1 ripe banana
1 handful of grapes
3/4 cup orange, mango or pineapple juice
1 tablespoon ground flax seed (optional)

- slice the banana into pieces. put into a blender, or into a tumbler that can handle an immersion blender.

- add the yogurt, kale and grapes.

- pour the juice on top, and blend. add a bit more liquid if needed.

- to really kick your hangover's ass, stir in 1 tablespoon of ground flax seed after blending. but if that's like, too much effort for your weary bones, just chug that smoothie and wait for the rush of well-being to kick in.

the kale smoothie in its natural habitat

so, even though i pick my poison...at least i've got the antidote, right?

love,
emily