2010 Cincinnati Beer Fest

I have to give my review of the 2010 Cincinnati Beer Fest. I had more thoughts rummaging through my head about the event while I was there than I ever could have imagined. I mean it was a great thought. I love beer. What better way to enjoy said beer than to have an opportunity to taste from a selection of 130 varieties? I was however troubled once I got there. I wasn't upset with the $35 I spent on a ticket, and I certainly loved the discount pricing for the designated driver. I also was thrilled to see a big screen viewing area for the NCAA tournament games. The music was pretty good from the jazz trio that was playing and I have to admit, I was pretty damn excited to see the Taste of Belgium working up some waffles (because I LOVE those waffles). Anyway, all that made me happy, but the souvenir drinking vessel? A little plastic mug. Not a cool little tasting glass? I mean for $35 per person, I'd think the vessel actually being glass would be a certainty. Apparently I assumed incorrectly. Then I get my tickets. 35 of them in fact to enjoy 35 samples of refreshing brew. Fine. I'm happy with that. That is until I get to the first booth. I wait in line for what seems like an eternity for my immense thirst, and then I get my measly little 2oz pour. Wow! 35 tickets for $35 = $1 per sample @ 2oz. means I just essentially paid $6 for the equivalent of a bottle of beer. Not a problem if I'm drinking high end micro brews/imports or tasting something unique and limited from a particular brewer, but that wasn't exactly the case for the bulk of the 130 beers offered. I wait in line again. My 2oz. had no chance of lasting long enough for me to stay "watered" while I stood in line, so when I got to the end I offered multiple tickets for a full pour. I knew I liked the beer I was getting, so I saw no harm in that. "Absolutely not," I was told. OK, then. What's the harm in that? My little mug is 4oz. Let me give you 2 tickets for two tastes of the same beer and I know I'll have enough for the next line. "Nope." Now I'm a little pissed. A few beers I really wanted to try had long lines, so I decided to hold off on those until a little later on. I go to my next stop and wait in my usual line, and when I get to the end I ask a question about the beer. The lady pouring tells me she doesn't have any clue about the beer and she, "Doesn't even drink beer." OK, then. Where's the representative from the brewery/distributor to talk about the beer that I read was going to be there in the Enquirer article on Thursday? Not at the beer fest apparently. I will say however, this was not the case for Rivertown, Sam Adams & Moerlein. They were all very nice to me. I decide to move on to the next stop and I look at the clock. Uh oh!! Based on my remedial math, at the pace I'm going and with the length of the lines (and the size of my samples), there's no way in hell I can go through all of my beer tickets before the end of close at 9:00pm. As I pointed out earlier, with 35 tickets it worked out to $6 for the equivalent of a 12oz bottle of beer. What on earth does that start to cost me if I can't use them all? And another thing, If I can have no more than 6 bottles of beer essentially, and I'm drinking those beers over a 4 hour period, with 1 per hour effectively exiting my system according to breathalyzer stats, then by the time I leave I can have no more than 2-3 beers in my system. Why did I bring a designated driver again? I digress. Let's get back to the beer I really wanted to try, but decided to wait until the lines shortened up a bit. I see one of the lines is getting shorter, so I jump in. When I get to the end of the line, the beer I wanted was "out." Gone? Get another keg, damn it! I was told by the very sweet woman pouring the beer, that nobody has come around to check on her in a while, and as soon as they do, she'll get another keg. She then told me I could sneak up to the front when that happens and she'll get me my sample so I don't have to wait in line forever again. EXCELLENT! This made me very happy. I checked back ten minutes later - nothing. I checked back again - nothing. Finally she explained that there wasn't any more of that beer left until they got a delivery from the distributor... the next morning! I'm not coming back tomorrow. This does me no good. Now I'm pissed again. By the end of the night, I waited in line a lot. I also got shot down on 4 beers that I wanted to try that were all gone. I didn't make it through all of my tickets which now changed my cost formula to the tune of $7.50 that I spent per 12oz bottle beer equivalent and I went home sober. Not what I was looking for in a beer fest. I don't want to sound like an ass, but I feel cheated by the whole thing. Maybe next year.

Weber's Cafe/Treb-de-Fox

Today I write about an absolute institution on the west-side. Not far off on the west side mind you, just on the other side of I-75/I-74. I venture to guess that 90% of the people in this town have driven on the particular stretch of highway that overlooks its' neighborhood and just assumed there was nothing of consequence down below. How wrong they are.
Weber's Cafe is a quiet oasis on Dremen Avenue just off of Beekman St. in Cumminsville. You drive back to it and you're parading through an old working-class neighborhood with old homes, old churches and an outlying crop of old businesses. It was probably bustling and crazy back in it's day before the highway cut it off from the rest of the world, and probably deep into the 70's and early 80's too because of the factories that boomed there. Today, it's quiet, but Weber's, because of its' loyal regulars and old-timers who remember the better days, still has its charm and ambiance. It's one of the only bars in town (I imagine) that closes early in the evening and closes on the weekends too. It adapted it's hours based on their clientele. You want the Weber's experience? Get there Monday-Friday between 11:00am and 7:00pm.
When you walk in, whether it's through the front door or through the car-port in back, you find an impeccably clean time machine. Old beer memorabilia, trophies and pictures from softball teams in years past, and the sense of the little neighborhood cafe you sat on your daddy's lap visiting when you were a kid. The owner is George, and you'll find him behind the bar serving up lunch and beverages to the crowd who are all friends of his. He's been the owner for decades now and he took it over from another gentleman who did as he does. He's more of a fixture in its' appearance than anything hanging on the walls. It's his life, and the friends who visit from day-to-day are an important part of it. You almost get the sense sometimes that it's not a public place, but more like a clubhouse that George runs, or even a hideaway bar in someone's house that everyone has been invited to hang out at. When you visit, notice all of the fox statues and the "Treb-De-Fox" icons woven into its' fabric. Ask George about it. It is in itself, a story about Weber's history.
Like any other little neighborhood joint, the prices are unreal and the character is priceless. Not difficult to have a cheeseburger and a couple of beers for under $7.00. Maybe if you're lucky, one of the regulars brought in his homemade pickles that will adorn your plate. Every month on the first Wednesday, rain or shine, 100 degrees or a 100 below, you can get a New York Strip, grilled with a baked potato and a salad for under $10.00. It's tradition. George handles the grilling. Weather is not an issue.
If you love this town (which I do), and you love history (which I do), then the Weber Cafe's are iconic stops that need to be made. I'm not saying it's necessarily where you want to be on a Friday happy hour in the summer, but it's certainly where you want to be on occasion, imagining a different time and losing track of yours. The Enquirer recently started a feature called "52 Neighborhoods" in which they talk about a different neighborhood each week in a light that most people don't see. Go to Weber's once, and that'll be exactly what you get in the West end.

A Bar Experiment

I've always preached that getting good service in a bar is often the responsibility of the patron. I know this sounds ludicrous, but I have my reasons. First of all, I've seen far too many people wander into a crowded bar, stand behind a group of drinkers camped out in a particular spot and hope to just make eye contact or wave a couple of bucks in the air for a round of drinks. They end up waiting for five minutes, get pissed off and complain about the inattentive mixologist. Think about it like this: You're a rock star on stage and there's lots of lights and sounds. Everyone can see you quite clearly, but beyond the bar it's a lot like the crowd in the auditorium. Lots of noise, distorted sounds and motion. Everything starts to blend together. Believe me. If you're standing back there on a Friday night and a couple of guys are loud and drunk, you eventually start to tune some things out. In order to get the bartenders' attention at first, sometimes you need to do something a little out of the ordinary. One thing I like to do is help the bartender out. As soon as I walk in and see thirty people standing at the bar clamoring for a cocktail, I look around at the tables and grab a handful of empty glasses. I walk right to wear the bartender is standing, ask everyone to excuse me while I help out, and set them right in front of him. The bartender gives you a "Thanks for the help. Who are you? Can I get you anything?" look, and you're in. Order your drinks, thank him graciously, always tip best on your first two rounds, and trust me... you won't have to wait for a drink the rest of the night.
I also always like to keep an eye on the bartender to see if they like to have an occasional drink behind the bar. This won't happen as much as it used to because the general thought of owners and managers is, if the bartender drinks, their drinking free product, thus, they're stealing. The way bars really should work is, the bartender has a few drinks with clientele, they eventually think he or she is really fun, they offer to buy them a shot or a beer, and you end up charging patrons for what's been consumed all evening by you and they leave liking you better than the stiff that turned them down at the other place. If the bartender does drink, I see what it is, and on one of my return trips I order two of those. When they set me up on the bar, I give a nod and a grin, slide one towards them, we toast, drink our drink, and never say a word, or maybe tell them that they looked like they needed it. Walk away. Buying the bartender a drink is a slippery slope. Bartenders are savvy. We know the reason for your kindness. You want free drinks or really big pours in return. Do you know how many dumb asses have tried to buy me a drink while I'm working and told me why they're doing it? Don't do it because you expect something in return, but rather do it because you appreciate their efforts behind the bar and then, you'll probably get something in return anyway. We're fickle back there.
I'm also partial to the jukebox donation trick. Watch who's putting money in the jukebox. Whether you like what they're playing or not, pick a group of people that have spent a lot of time picking tunes. At some point, take $5 and wander over to their table. Say, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but you guys were playing some great music earlier... here's $5 to pick some more and keep it going." Make something up... tell them some guy who likes ABBA just walked in and we need to hog the machine or something. Just walk away after that. Before you know it, each one ends up buying you a drink because they think you're pretty cool and you just got four cocktails for $5.
I'm also fond of tipping the bartender for another bad tipper on occasion. If it's a bar where the bartender has seen me before, but doesn't really know me yet, this can be a valuable relationship builder. At some point, someone will be a bad tipper or not tip nearly what the effort was worth because they were so high maintenance. You'll know this because a lot of bartenders will discuss bad tippers with the rest of the bar as soon as they leave. Theory here is, that you won't want to be talked about behind your back, and so you'll tip really good. I just pull a $5 bill out right then and order another drink for myself. I tell them to add it to the tab, and then a put the $5 down and say, "That's for the bad tipper. I hate to see my bartender suffer because he was an ass."
I also have a myriad of tricks to use with the wife when she's expecting me at home. I can't tell all of them because she may be reading. However, one that she already knows about is the "first drink" trick. Order a drink, and right before you're done with it, set it aside. Don't touch it, don't let the bartender touch it. Leave enough in it that it doesn't look finished, and then order another one. You may have four more drinks, but keep that glass there. When the wife calls, tell her where you are (so you're not lying) and when she asks how long you've been there or how many you've had, simply grab the first drink that's been sitting there unattended for an hour and say, "I'm actually still drinking my first drink." No lies, just subtle manipulation of the truth. She's happy (as happy as she can be) and you're off the hook. Cheers!!

A Review of Bockfest

I apologize about my delay in getting to my newest post. I was recovering from a wonderful weekend in Over-The-Rhine. It truly was extraordinary. Young and old, out in droves celebrating the coming of spring, Bock beer and relating to a time that brought rich, German heritage to a boil on the streets of downtown Cincinnati. What was so amazing about the weekend was the collection of people that came down to enjoy the weekend. It wasn't the round-up of usual suspects, but rather a soup of suburbanites, downtown dwellers, hipsters, young professionals, wealthy & poor, old & young. It made me happy to see local newscasters on a day off enjoying a pint and enjoying conversation. The priest from my mothers' church was indulging in a couple Bock beers, so too was the guy at the gas station I go to all the time. The masses were out, and they all came calling for a good time in the name of this town's German past, a right of spring - a celebration.
The bars were hopping as you might expect, and for me, I looked on it like a proud father would watch a child learning a new trick. Seeing some of the faces in the crowd as they discovered such gems like Milton's or Mr. Pitiful's for the first time. Pitiful's had the Goshorn Brothers Friday night, and the crowd was as emotional as it was electric. Courtyard Cafe saw more life than it usually sees, and some fresh paint and a fresh approach lent itself well to the opening success of Jack Pott's (the old home of Jefferson Hall). Grammers was hopping with it's usual hipster/party more than most crowd, and even the new Senate Restaurant got in on the act with some bock beer flowing from its' taps. Of course, I don't have to point out that Arnold's was one of the places to be. The ownership there has been a huge part in the continued growth of the event. The wonderful thing about bars like Arnold's or Miltons and Pitiful's, is that they've been around long enough, that a couple that now resides in the suburbs with their 2.2 kids and the dog playing in the yard, run home to them like an old friend. This last weekend, they were filled with lots of old friends, and a lot more new ones. More than ever before. Everyone shined. Over-The-Rhine welcomed everyone home. It didn't turn it's back on us all. It gave us a warm embrace... and lots of cold beer. The music was being played, the dancers were decked out in traditional attire, the food was delicious and the smiles were wide. It was a great weekend for Over-The-Rhine. Better yet, it was a great weekend for Cincinnati, and for all of you who forget about downtown except during weekends like this or Taste of Cincinnati or Oktoberfest or Bengals/Reds games, remember: We're here the other 350 days of the year, waiting to give you that warm embrace. See you soon.

The Craft of the Cocktail

First of all, I'm sorry to borrow the title of a great bartending book, but it just seemed to be the appropriate name. There's a crusade of sorts that's been fluttering around cosmopolitan towns for more than decade, but is just hitting Cincinnati en mass in the last year or two. It's the quality, well-crafted drink. Now granted, there are some bartenders here in town who have been more aware of this trend for a lot longer, but not because they knew it was "cutting edge," but rather because they knew it's just the right way to drink. I remember slipping in to Neon's 15 years ago and getting all excited about Terry Carter's fresh squeezed juices. I was a young pup at the time, sneaking in when I was 22 (I say that because Neon's was 25 and up), and tossing my beer aside for fresh squeezed Kamikaze's and real lime in my Gin & tonic. It felt "right." Now, thank goodness, a lot more people are doing this, and are aware of the beauty of a "proper" drink. Molly Wellman is one of these people. You should seek her out and belly up to her bar. There are others too. Find them... trust me. Now, I've vented about martini lists before, but don't get me started on my feelings for seeing a drink list on the bar of featured, specialty concoctions, and then ordering one... only to watch them hoist a bottle of browned-out Rose's lime into the mix. If I don't jump over the bar and smack them, I at least give a subtle jab at the "genius" behind the work. Oh, and I never return. It's like the dirty bathroom theory: If they're willing to have a dirty bathroom, that which every patron can clearly see, how dirty are the spots they can't see? Same idea. If they claim to make a great drink and they stand right in front of you mixing Donald Duck brand grapefruit juice, or Rose's lime/grenadine (it's not supposed to be cherry flavored, by the way) and then charge you $7.50 for the drink... what's the kitchen look like? What's really going into your burger? Is it really worth $10.00? The bartender is like the Maitre D'. It's a first impression. It's an indicator of quality and the personality of the place. It's important... very important to have a passionate, quality-driven "chef" behind the bar.
Now, back to the "craft of the cocktail" and my recent issue. As you've probably gathered, I love a quality drink, and I feel like I deserve one after a long day. As a recent mixologist said to me, "I'm not snobby." I'm not either. I just want delicious. Thankfully, a lot more establishments see the importance of this and are working hard to give it to the customer. However, some are doing this at a pretty steep cost. They're scaring away a lot of clientele. You see, nothing is more of a turn off when you're at a bar talking to some guy or girl for the first time, than them being a cocky, snooty ass. Why then would you want your bartender to be that way? I'm all for well-made imbibery (not sure if that's really a word), but just do it. Don't promote yourself like a pompous, know-it-all. Just make the drink. I'll know you're good at what you do just by watching you make it, and ultimately tasting it. I'll even know by seeing what ingredients made the drink list, the wine list or the beers on tap. And yeah, I know fresh squeezed juices are more expensive and time consuming, but let's not get to excited about what it's worth. Charging double-figures for something that should cost $7.00 at the most doesn't make it taste better, in fact it makes it taste a little worse. I've always believed that what all bar owners and bartenders want is to have a good crowd. In the end, it's a business. That's exactly what some people will say to justify their pricing, however, nothing brings money in like someone sitting at the bar. So why is it that a well-crafted cocktail only comes at bars and at prices that only 1/3 of drinkers in town will ever go? Why cut out 2/3 of the potential customers? Don't get me wrong, I love where things are headed, but it needs to be available to the masses. It needs to be more accessible. Not only from a location and a pricing standpoint, but also from the mixologist who's making the drink as well. Be a human being. Wear a smile. Be proud of what you do because you love it, and it makes you feel good when someone takes that first sip and takes the time to compliment your work. Most bartenders are just that... a bar-tender. Someone who "tends" to the bar. They're drink -pourers. Be creative. Be a bar-chef, as I like to call them. Be a pro, and most importantly of all, do it without all the pomp and circumstance. I can tell you that every single one of my most memorable drinks in any bar, anywhere in the world, has been well thought out, carefully made, and made with a smile by the kind of person that I wouldn't mind having a beer with once their shift was over. At the end of the day, isn't that really what we all want. That's what will drive more business to your bar. Not a snob who thinks they're the best mixologist in town and they run everyone off with a combination of over-bearing personality and exorbitant prices. We need more of the fun, humble, talented, passionate and caring people behind the bars in this town. Not only will our drinks taste better, but we'll have no problems ordering another... or another. In the end we'll be COMPLETELY satisfied with the experience.

Plum St. Cafe Made Me Happy

Last Friday night was a welcome change of pace from my more recent nights out. I popped in to Plum St. Cafe downtown and settled in for a more honest drink. It's a beautiful little bar. It's family owned, been around for over 25 years, and it just does what it does: makes everyone feel like a regular with regular prices. There was a great crowd. Not huge in numbers, but a nice mix of locals who live in the surrounding neighborhood and employees from some of the local restaurants and hotels. There was good music playing, and not too loud. Just the right volume to still enjoy conversation and not be too irritated when the occasional "dud" was played. The drinks are fairly priced and seemed to have an eclectic mix of patrons. I found it also seems to be the place where people go to have at least one moment of enjoyable drink either before going somewhere else or after leaving somewhere else. Kind of like having a good drink at home before you head out or the night cap after stumbling in. The man behind the bar on this particular night was none other than Handsome Johnny. A man who has more stories told about him over the last 30 years than any other human being. If you're a guy, you know Johnny from the endless tales about his nights out and his ability to put down a drink. If you're a lady, you know Handsome because of his insatiable appetite for flirting. Either way, he's always entertaining. It was refreshing to sit in a bar that a conversation could be had with anyone at anytime. Where stories are being told, and genuinely listened to. Where songs were shared, sung along to, games were played and friends were made. It's the place where people who usually want to be "seen" go when they want to be "liked". It's where the rest of us go to not regret the night out when we wake up the next morning.

Jean-Robert vs. Relish

I have to admit, I don't know everything about this situation. Mostly just what the papers tell me and a few friends in the business who have had the pleasure of working in their restaurants tell me. That having been said, I offer these thoughts... purely opinion and not rooted in fact: I've found that in the last year there has been an approach from some parties entangled in this dispute that has nothing to do with good business, and more to do with personal vindictiveness. I understand there was an issue, but if I was an adviser to the Relish group, I don't think I'd have them fighting battles like non-competes. For one thing, it tells the whole world, "We're not as good as he is. We don't think our restaurants or employees can compete with him." Do you think that little of your establishments and their staffs? Do you have to try and swab a technicality to keep him shut down because you're afraid he's going to put one of your restaurants out of business? Or, do you just hate him so much, that you're willing to ruin the reputation that your restaurant group has in the efforts to punish him? Seems like the last ditch effort of a schoolyard bully, not a savvy business man.
Then there's the other side. What if Jean-Robert was such a terrible individual to partner with, that it is personal. What if this soap-opera is all just an attempt at payback for terrible things he did over the course of the last eight years? That's possible. However, when I'm out and about on the town, I notice that JR is all over the place with thousands of well-wishers, friends and family who would do anything for him. I know he was the face of the franchise, and that does put a coat of salve on some indiscretions that may have occurred, but that many people can't be wrong. Can they? I know one thing, if Jean-Robert is getting advice from people about his situation, they're obviously better at what they do than the Relish advisers.
Again, I'm not choosing sides. I don't have a favorite pony in the race. I'm just observing from afar. Far enough away at least that I can say it shouldn't be personal for either of them. What's best for this town is for both of them to succeed and win. What's best for anyone (including the 2 people who'll read this) is that all of their efforts not go in vain. We have a gigantic food culture in this town. I know that sounds odd to some, but it's true. Cincinnati has long been a home to foodies and restaurateurs going back to the 70's when we had three 5-star restaurants out of seven in the country. Think about that. Even today, we have chef owned restaurants that absolutely bring it like Hugo, Boca, Nada, Sung Korean and on and on. We have Senate opening it's doors, Terry's Turf Club getting national attention, Vitor's on the westside and even roving burrito and taco trucks that rock our world. We can love and support both JR & Relish. I mean we're busting our chops trying to revitalize downtown and Over-the-Rhine and we get someone starting a cat fight with his neighbor? Gateway Quarter needs Lavomatic to SUCCEED! Not try to compete with Senate by doing what they're not good at. They need to do what they do and do it really well and SUCCEED! Jean-Robert needs to open his restaurant and do the same. This city needs their help and we're all getting screwed because they can't handle this properly. I say, "them," but in reality we know who's at fault here. JR just wants to cook again. He doesn't want to be a powerful restaurateur. He doesn't want ten restaurants all over town. He wants to do what he does best. Relish, I don't know what they're doing. Changing concepts, changing hours of operation. It reminds me of that old saying, "In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king." Well, they need to find someone who knows how to be a restaurateur and make Jeanro, Lavomatic, Chalk, etc. viable, wonderful establishments again. If not, they'll go away, and the Wade's will own empty buildings downtown with prime locations. They'll try and rip-off anyone who wants to buy them to open a dream, or their leases will be so exorbitant, that nobody could survive. Come on people. We need them both, and we need them both to do the right thing. I know JR will. The pressure's on now. He's opening a new restaurant on his own. A virtual shoe-string budget. He won't have million-dollar china and silver dinner service. He's doing this with passion, sweat & love. This will be his "family business." Relish has deep pockets. They can do whatever they want. So, why is it then whenever given a choice to do something, they always seem to make the wrong decision? I don't know. So much potential. My prediction. JR's Table open for business long after the Relish group has closed their doors.

Have you seen this person?

I was sitting in a wonderful little bar the other day enjoying a cold beer when I realized that I knew everyone in the place. I didn't know their names, but I knew them. It was after 5:00pm and happy hour was starting to really move a bit. Now this particular bar doesn't serve food, so one of the regulars who works at a restaurant during lunches brings in treats for the gang, and having seen me in there before, offered me a sandwich. Of course I accepted, and knowing that he wasn't making them for paying customers, but rather for friends, he made them with a little bit more toppings than usual. Delicious. There was the old timer at the end of the bar who had been there well-before I got there. Drinking long necks, pouring it 3oz. at a time in a small juice glass, with a separated pile of cash in front him... one for the beers and one for the bartender. There was the lonely guy who talks to everybody and needs his couple of hours in the bar to feel normal again. There was the other lonely guy who is that way because he hates talking, and he sat crumpled at the end of the bar watching the evening news with closed captioning and nursing his Windsor. There's the group of office workers who got out a little early and were still venting about the day. One of the ladies was being chastised for inviting the boss to join them when his day was over, another being applauded for the donuts she brought in for breakfast. One of the fellows with the ladies was trying way too hard to make jokes hoping to court one of the other girls. He doesn't realize that he's a career mail-room guy and she's using the job as a stepping stone to six figures... he doesn't have a chance. Then there's the group of recent retirees, three of them in fact, enjoying every moment of their new found freedom by being drunk at noon, and bitching about the weather because they can't wait to start golfing again. They're being loud, but not obnoxious, and they obviously know the bartender well, because every dirty joke and playful flirt is greeted with appreciation, not disdain. The local mailman is there, done with his day. Looking ragged from the rough weather he's endured. You can tell, he's enjoying his drink almost more than anyone else. Walking in is the out-of-place guy. He's usually out on Friday and Saturday nights, so he thinks his usual act is OK with day-timers. Little does he know, that yelling across the bar, tipping like crap and playing $5 worth of Pearl Jam on the jukebox isn't going to cut it at happy hour. He spends an hour fighting back and forth with the bartender about the appropriate volume level. He loses. He drinks six beers in one hour, ends with a shot of Jager, tips $2 for the whole tab and thinks we'll all miss him when he's gone. Adios! Back to the restaurant employee who brought the sandwiches: He's such a regular that he pays in advance. He gets the same amount beers, and the same two shots everyday. He dishes out the food, sets down his money, minus the obvious "Thank You" no charge for the first couple of rounds and settles in to his stool. If a stranger is in it, he has no problem asking them to scoot down, and in a beautiful move of camaraderie, the rest of the bar has his back and urges the other guy to move. The bartender is beautiful, and you can tell she's worked in a lot bars for a lot of hours and knows all the tricks. She probably got the primo happy hour shift by being attractive, not for having seniority, and it's a perfect fit with all the old guys in the place. One of the office workers asks for some foo-foo shot. I think a chocolate cake shot. Nobody can remember how to make it because everyone in this bar is typically a purist. Straight drinks with maybe a splash of ginger or soda. Ice is the big curve ball. How much or how little? All of this going on around me made me wonder, who am I? Am I a duplicate of one of these characters or am I a completely new species? I came in because I work odd hours and anytime can be 5:00pm for me. I didn't have anywhere to be until 7:00pm when my wife was expecting me home for dinner. My biggest concern was feeling out my system to know whether or not I could have 2 drinks or 5 without the wife thinking I had more than 1. I guess maybe I'm the closet barfly. I come and I go. I enjoy my drinks, but with somewhere else to be. I'm not a wallflower, but I don't over stay my welcome either. I watch some TV and I don't openly criticize the idiot arguing that the moon landing was a conspiracy. I scan the jukebox just to see what kind of music dominates so I have an idea of the personality of the night time crowd. Ouch! Lots of new country and power ballads. I guess this is to be an afternoon option only. That's OK. I have lots of new friends. A cast of characters that I know like family and to think we just only met. I bet every afternoon bar in town has the same crowd.

An introduction... to my soapbox

There seems to be a trend in the local bars and restaurants, and thankfully, it's trending up. That trend, which was M.I.A. 10 years ago, is slowly growing, and to my surprise, Cincinnatians aren't fighting it as much as I thought. It is creativity. Confidence. Curiosity. Education. No more are the masses lining up and being herded into the exact same drink, same music and same cliche menu items from spot to spot. There's interest in knowing more and trying something new. I remember when I was in college (granted that was 15 years ago), I was the goof-ball of my pack of friends. I was the guy who spent a little extra money and bought better beer for the parties. I took a lot of heat, but in the end, I drank better, and I was much happier. What stands out the most about that time is the fact that I had a running list of bars in town that served better beer. The list was short. That list if made today, would easily be ten times the size that it was. Did anyone even know, let alone drink, Belgian Ales or IPA's ten years ago? No. It excites me to see the masses not wanting to settle for the vanilla option anymore. I love seeing a beer list with one maybe two token domestic premium beers, followed by a well thought-out laundry list of imports and micro-craft beers that satisfy curiosity and work with the menu. I love the same attention given to the wine list or the cocktail list. And the menu? I understand there has to be some old favorites, but when 9 out of 10 restaurants have the exact same items with subtle seasoning variations, come on. Give me a break.
One evening I went to a new restaurant downtown. I figured I'd give it some business, check it out, see what it had to offer. What did I find? Caesar salad, potato skins, sliders, Miller Lite specials, blah blah blah. Why make the trip? For the casual visitor who works downtown and commutes out in the evening, why should they stay for happy hour? To spend more money than they should on exactly the same thing that they could get from the Applebee's next to their condo? I left terribly disappointed. Did I return? Yeah, I did, but only because I felt that I should give it another fair shake. I haven't been back a third time. This is far too common. I'm not suggesting that restaurateurs be so crazy, unique that everyone is scared to try their place out, but show us that you cared enough to think outside of the box. It goes the same for wine lists, beer lists and cocktail menus. If I look at one more featured martini list that has a Cosmopolitan or an Apple martini on it, I'll scream. I can get that ready-made in a tin can at a local drive-thru. You don't need to put it on your "featured" list. As far as the wine list is concerned, unless I'm at 4 or 5 star restaurant, I don't need to see how good your wine buyer is at spending money by having 300 wines on the list. That's not impressive. What is impressive, is having a 25-50 bottle list that covers all of the bases for the concept, has a nice range of price, and compliments the hell out of the chef and his menu.
All that having been said, I don't want everyone to think I'm some sort of a beer or wine snob. I just plugged down a can of Burger beer this evening after work. The Cosmopolitan martini... I have no problem with a bar serving or selling it, just know its' place. Potato skins and sliders, I love them. I just don't love them when they cost $13.95 and I'm going out for a night on the town. I can make 'em at home. Usually better. Give me something special. Now if you make the absolute best potato skin in the world, and you do something no one else does, then by all means, keep it going. But let's be honest, that's not happening. If you're some little mom-n-pop neighborhood spot, than that's OK. Give me wings and cheese sticks. But, when you're the next big thing, moving into a high profile spot downtown or in Hyde Park, and you have press releases and the whole nine yards, don't get me all excited for cookie-cutter, blah blah blah.