Tag Archives: bitter

Another Saturday without new words of fiction

Old What’s Her Face* interrupted the jam session from my last post and wanted to go to town. She thought it was time to air me out.

We went to the new Boise Trader Joes. The hoopla died down, and we were able to find a parking space. We both are glad we checked it out, but don’t see what all the hype is about. The old Boise Co-op has more to offer, and they’re about to expand. It was more like checking something off our list than anything special.

I was good though, and frequent readers know what happens when I’m a good boy. We drove down the street to the new Woodland Empire Ale Craft shop. It’s one of Boise’s newest breweries. They didn’t have any food, but I threw in one of my old growlers, because I intended to be a good boy all along.

The beer there was wonderful. I sampled three and wished I’d brought my second growler too. I loved their milk stout, Belgian, and English bitter. The milk stout was my favorite, but they weren’t offering growlers of it. It was a tie between the other two. I don’t like hoppy beers, like IPAs. On the other hand, I’ve never met an English bitter (ESB) I didn’t like. Since ESB is rare, I took home a two liter growler of it.

But wait, there’s more. Old What’s Her Face was hungry. She’d been googling out in the truck. There is another new brewery around called The Edge Brewing, and its food is getting great reviews. I must have been really good at Trader Joes.

The Edge is kind of hard to find, but it’s worth trying. It had the best Reuben sandwich I’ve ever found in a restaurant ever. They brought out a basket of kettle chips while we waited, and they were great too. I drank a stout that rivaled Guinness, but didn’t best it. When our lunch arrived, my side was beer and cheese soup, and it was wonderful. Old What’s Her Face had the fries, and they were top notch too.

I ordered the Belgian triple, which had a cool name like badonkadonk monk. I felt bad for not being able to fill a growler with the Belgian at Woodland Empire. It was outstanding. I would return to The Edge just for the Belgian and the Reuben. But wait, there’s more.

When the waitress asked if we wanted dessert, we declined. They had a tiramisu they called beer-a-misu. I had to try something else. They made a strawberry rhubarb cider. Now I like the occasional cider, and how can you pass up something this quirky? It was really good. The flavors are present, but not overwhelming. It wasn’t like a glass of wine either, like some ciders.

The Edge is a winner. Your girl can drink cider while you enjoy the Belgian beer. (Unless she likes beer. Old What’s Her Face is a tea totaler) They were playing Irish pub music over the top of everything, and I could have stayed all day just for that.

All good things must come to an end. Old What’s Her Face decided I was sufficiently liquored up for a trip to Costco. She took my keys and drove from this point on. We spent too much, and that was probably the point of all that wonderful beer. My wife knows how to play the game.

Oh my God! It isn’t even my birthday, and Old What’s Her Face wants to go to Kahoots for dinner. It’s another beer oriented place, and has the best bread pudding around. Gotta go. 

* Not my wife’s actual name.


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