Beer Adventures in Chicago, Part 7 of 7

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6]

I left Half Acre (see Part 6), a logo glass richer and full of good feelings for the beer world in general. On Doug from Metro’s (see Part 5) suggestion I went to the Rock Bottom brewpub for dinner. I gather that Rock Bottom is a franchise, with the individual brewers having some control over their flight list, and when I realized that the restaurant was literally right the hell across the street from an el stop I wondered why I hadn’t gone there before.

As I was seated I noticed that the place carried with it an air of an Applebees or other restaurant with ‘crazy crap on the wall’ (like Uncle Moe’s Family Feedbag). There were plastic cups for the kids! Rock Bottom has beer brewed on location, though, so y’know, 15 love.

I ordered what seemed to be their special release: Two: Another Mash Made in Heaven, brewed with plum juice, coriander and ‘a touch of crystal malt’ to celebrate the brewer’s second wedding anniversary. There was some dark fruit aroma, but it was semi-subtle. The fruit was evident in the taste, but it wasn’t sweet or overpowering. I didn’t really notice any hops but — and my notes must be transferred verbatim here — ‘they must be behind the scenes, providing balance in a Machiavellian-like fashion.’ It was on the sweeter side, including some lingering aftertaste, but it wasn’t cloying. I noted that if a person says they don’t like beer, have them try this. They call it a session ale, but it’s 6%; to me, 5.5 is the limit (and really, anything over 5 doesn’t need special treatment), but hey: not my brewery.

The waitress came by to take my order and noticed me scribbling illegibly on my pad. When asked, I told her I was a beer blogger, and it may have been my imagination but I was taken very well care of after that. It may have just been that I stated that I knew my stuff when it came to beer: she was more than happy to discuss pairings and so on with me. ‘God bless beer-knowledgeable wait staff,’ as I noted. Blessed are they, for they will receive greater tips.

On her suggestion I went with the American Dream IPA with my beer battered salmon and chips (it was that or what I had next). They say it’s brewed with a pound of hops per barrel in the boil, and then dry hopped with another 11 pounds a day for three days. After that, I was expecting an IPA of Stone proportions, but instead it wasn’t as bitter as I expected. It almost ended too cleanly, with not much of a bitterness at all (I know, this is funny coming from the guy who just bitched about Stone). As I told the waitress, ‘it’s not punching me repeatedly in the face’ (I think I made a slow, repeated punching motion towards my other hand. I had had a lot of beer that day). It was very citrussy, providing more hop flavor than bitterness. Which, hey, is okay with me.

At this point I noticed their upcoming beers: cask Amarillo Red, Belgian Rye IPA, Sticke Alt, Saison. Yes, yes, yes and yes please. Why do I not live in this city? Another plus: 10% off food for AHA members.

I finished the night, and my trip, with their Terminal Oatmeal Dry-Hopped Stout, which took home bronze medals at the 07 and 08 GABFs and golds at the 09 GABF/WBC. I could tell why: it was delicious. It poured with a tan head into a more Guinness-like glass, and was served perhaps too cold but had an ‘invitingly roasty’ aroma (it was my eighth beer of the day, guys; give me a break). I couldn’t really smell, and I could just barely taste, the 22 pounds of Chinook it was dry hopped with.

Apologies for the light notes at this point, but it was getting late. The waitress, whose name I really should have gotten as she was very nice, let me into the area with their fermenters, but since it was 9 pm by this point the brewer had understandably gone home for the night. I got to see the Belgian IPA bubbling away in its blowoff bucket, and I really wish I had the chance to taste it. Oh well; it’s not as though I didn’t have a ton of awesome beer on my trip!

I wasn’t able to buy any beer to bring home, since the store by my hotel was closed by the time I got there, but I’d say that I brought back enough pints glasses and notes for BOV posts to offset that. That’s a lie, by the way, because I really want some Dynamo and Over Ale and I wouldn’t say no to somebody’s daughter — er, Fat Tire. I finished the night by reading more Hops & Glory, which I finished as my plane descended back into Buffalo, which is about as fitting an end as I could imagine.