Four weeks. It's only been four weeks. Four weeks since summer officially ended and autumn began, and it feels as though the upstate summer never really was committed to begin with. Regardless, I refuse to let go of it. I defy any notion of change of seasons, especially the warm to the cold ones. The day after Labor Day I wear white, just like a babalao of those steamy Miami days. As the summer limited edition brews get quickly replaced by pumpkin ales, I save a few and drink them like it's a late June day. This summer, I took some time off from blogging, which gave me the unique opportunity to partake in some interesting observations in my travels.
Take for instance, the weekend jaunt to Watkins Glen, New York, home of the Nascar Jet Set. I went to check out the local beer scene amidst the beauty of Seneca Lake. Little did I know that the weekend I chose was during a racing event, a new experience of sorts for me. Picture, if you will, hiking at the state park among the waterfalls and gorges, surrounded by immense beauty...aahhh...and then (chime in the old school record "screech!"), all of a sudden, in the crisp clean air, I get a whiff of cigarette smoke. What could it be? A wildfire? Nah, it's just a bunch of young guns, in their Nascar hats, smoking and carrying cooler totes drinking cans of Bud and Coors Light as the tourists in foreign tongues pass them by. After that nauseating scene and a good sweaty hike, it was time for a real beer break at the Crooked Rooster Pub, where our beer friend and Brewmaster of Rooster Fish, Seth, was busily making up the next fantastic batch of something delicious. I got the VIP tour, sampled and sampled away the complex and delightful libations that Seth so carefully crafts. Seth's wife was also there to greet and gave some good ole Finger Lakes hospitality. We drank, talked, laughed, enjoyed the moment, and for a little while, I forgot all about the smoking and beer can drinking on sacred land.
In a country of contrasts, one of my next summer stops was Miami, my old hometown of eight years. While my expectations are very low in Miami when it comes to beer, I always have high expectations for an excellent time. Miami did not disappoint. It never does. What I love most about Miami is that it's aesthetically pleasing in so many aspects. Style over substance. Coronas and Cuban music in Little Havana. Stellas and Stilettos in South Beach. While most stylish bars serve the usual suspects, there are a few exceptions in the 305. The Yard House, a chain of beer restaurants à la Gordon Biersch, relatively new to Coral Gables, boasts over 130 taps, so it was on my radar. The dizzying menu is a chore to read, and a daunting task. Luckily, I know what I like, but I'm always ready to try something new. Surrounded by old friends, meeting new people at the bar and just being damn happy to be in Miami during the worst weather of the year, I tried a yummy raspberry brown ale, the name of which escapes me, but gives me another reason to go back for more. At the News Bar Lounge, I imbibed the Colorado concoction Hazed and Infused, which had a nice kick. After that, it was off to the Brazilian beats of Boteco, which screamed for me to drink some caipirinhas, which I did. However, I couldn't leave the bar without having one of the local beers, Nova Schin. Nice, clean, light, and perfect for a hot August night.
After living in Miami for such a long time, I have learned the unofficial rules to ordering beer: never order anything local. Most Floridian beers are not worth mentioning. While some are adequate (e.g. at Titanic), most are just plain blah. Find a good bar with a great selection, such as Zeke's on Lincoln Road, and the sublime Abbey in South Beach (excellent brews with music to match!). If the selection isn't the best, then make sure you have a view of the water, such as at Scotty's or Monty's; otherwise it's just another mediocre beer at a nondescript strip mall.
I know summer is over. It has been, even before it left. But as the October days pass, as the leaves morph into vivid pieces of living art, I now look back at the summer and all of its warm wonder. As I wait for another cycle of three seasons to take me to that warm place, I think for now I'll make a michelada, put on my leopard print Snuggie and watch CSI: Miami.
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