da Bronx, da Beer

The Bronx Pale Ale : Bronx Brewery : Pale Ale

Ok. I knew to resume my beer journey I was going to have to make some unusual trips to seek out the more exotic, or at least the one’s I haven’t toasted on. But, yo, going to the fourth borough? (Fifth, if you are from the island of Staten.) Fortunately, my neighborhood is pretentious enough to seek out the exotic for me. Epicerie Boulud has done the legwork north and procured a sampling keg from the land where NYC actually touches America…

So on a late afternoon, when the hard winter sun illuminated the sharper angles of Lincoln Center, I stand along the window table, sampling Bronx Pale Ale. The woman who served me it in a pint water glass had blank marble eyes. She looked through me for a whole minute before crossing the foot and a half space between us to ask if I wanted anything. All around tall people abound on the street and in the shop. A man and his wife chant through a shopping list of things in New York City, he repeating the refrain “well, we deserve this…” whenever there was a gap in the inventory.

The pale burns without complexity. I’m wondering if they are attempting an IPA, but dropped the I — not from humility, but from a need to separate themselves from the crowd. The thickness…thinking nitrogen here…is delightful, as is the hint of salt…but it all just burns like the cold flares hitting the crowded, directionless streets. Another year older and not the whole lot wiser, all I feel is ten dollars lighter.

It is all a ghostly experience.

Rating: 66

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One Response to da Bronx, da Beer

  1. JW says:

    Just thought it needed to be said again. For some reason.

    Everything you said is fine. That said, when did the “Bartenders” become “Talking with the Bartender”? Not to say that it isn’t more apt, but looking back at the number of comments left that engendered no comment, one thinks the “Bartender” is one of those chaps, arms folded, whose back is affixed to the cash register, a toothpick clamped between the molars, as he looks through the customers who wait uneasily to be served.

    You know the ones I’m talking about: the ones who treat you like you don’t exist…Well, in your case, that’s all of them. But for the rest of us there is a type out there. And I think he’s minding the bar at this dive.

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