This post is part one of a new Wednesday series that will chronicle my west coast beer adventures. Current location: Logan Airport, Boston, MA
The brewpub is one of the chain of Boston/Salem Beer Works, and I went to the one in Salem last year and throughly enjoyed their watermelon beer. The bar was small, tucked away in the terminal and was trimmed with stainless steel.
I had trouble, initially, in getting the bartender’s attention. But I soon eyed te tap handle for the stout, which was pouring out an opaque black with a creamy light brown head. “The stout!” I said, over the din of bored airport travelers, “and an order of fried pickles.” I thought back to the Strangebrew tavern in Manchester where I first encountered their vinegary goodness but in the midst of my daydream I was politely informed that they were out. I revised my order to a salad, though I wasn’t sure if that would be filling enough for a six hour flight.
My beer arrived, spilling a little brown goodness over the tiny cocktail napkin on which it rested. The beer didn’t have a very strong smell, only hints of how dark it is. The creamy head was smooth and delicate. The taste was not as robust as I’d hoped, but was not bad either. It remind me of kind of a fortified version of a brown ale.
Though the atmosphere was a mix of the hectic and tired, looking across the aisle at the Starbucks made me feel better about choosing Beer Works as my pre-flight stop. The coffee junkies stood with stereotyped accuracy – the suits and sweaters, people in their 30s looking mildly concerned about life in general. In here? There was talk of football, weather, stocks, business plans, family drama, party stories. The people with beer seemed to have found a temporary haven from the frantic moods which are all too common in a place that is notorious for its stress giving qualities – a busy city airport. But, by the time only a delicate lace remained in my glass, I was feeling a bit laid back, too.