In which I consider carrots yet again, a most disturbing trend.
I found myself at Craft Ale House one more once this afternoon, three days in a row, a habit which I needs must get under control ASAP lest I become the Richard Ruch of Limerick. I was drinking with the Sly Fox brewing staff who apparently feel that their salaries do not require them to fulfill their duties during the last hours of the year.
When I was momentarily beerless, owner Gary Fry advised, “if you can’t get a beer from one of the bartenders behind the bar, try the ones seated at the bar.”
Joking, of course.
I think.
In any case, there were indeed more than a few people on the customer side of the bar who have been familiar faces on the serving side for some time now, among them two of the best known and most highly regarded practitioners of the drinks-dispensing art.
I will not reveal their identities because each was, at that particular moment, late for work. If it helps, one was wearing fishnets and the other wasn’t.
I asked them—because this affront to my judgment, palate and general character (not to mention my beard, which is older than many of the readers of this deathless prose) weighs heavy on my mind—if they would do me the favor of each having a 10oz glass of PBC Rowhouse Red and tell me if they detected even a trace of carrots in same.
They were kind enough to do so.
Their short answers, same as my original one: No.
They were, if truth be told (and it be), even more adamant than I on the issue.
One did say she experienced something which might be vaguely related to celery, but that is another vegetable entirely, innit, and a question for another day?
I am reborn and—modestly as is my custom—hereby rest my argument and close out 2008, confident in the wisdom and rightness of my case.
I think those “practitioners” were keeping an eye on their customers, who were also straying from the flock, so to speak. Happy New Year!
Jack, you are showing the early signs of Bar Fixture Syndrome….a condition I am familiar with. Remedies include purposely (or accidentally) getting lost so you can’t find your way to the bar, pretending it’s a different day in the week so you can tell yourself you actually don’t come to the bar everyday or spending time in the hospital and give up another body part you really don’t need or use anyway (the spleen this time).
Happy New Year Uncle Jack!!!
Jack - Thanks for your efforts to resolve this issue. I can tell you that in 2009 we have taken necessary measures to remove all carrots from the Rowhouse Red. This of course is no promise that we won’t in the future involve vegetables in the production of our beers.
I think rutabaga might be nice.