Starting a small Tavern in rural Northern California. Barley and Hops Tavern catalogs the trials and tribulations of the restaurant biz, and teaching wine country to love beer.

Monday, June 30, 2008

A start.

Most people, whether or not asked, will provide you with an opinion on most matters, especially as it relates to someone other than themselves. I enjoy the feedback from my customers, be it helpful (I need to get purse hooks below the bar), dubious (I should install a salad bar), or illucid (I should stay open 7 days a week, and do lunch service).

Thankfully, despite the apparently numerous ways I could make the Tavern more suitable to the specific wants and desires of an individual, most of the people who have popped in for a bite and a brew have enjoyed it. Clean plates and empty glasses don't lie. Actually, empty glasses are prone to hyperbole, but that's not really lying as much as exaggeration. Butter knives- now they are the real hucksters.

It seems that our big days are thurs-sat, from about 6:30 on. I'm not sure what happens in Occidental after 9:30, but it's completely barren. There aren't even crickets chirping after 9:30. In fact, I was just talking to a cricket today, who informed me that even the amoebas are dead silent after 9:30. Don't people know that I'm still pouring? My open sign bathes the Tavern in a blueish glow, beckoning locals to come and have a frosty pint, and watch whatever happens to be on ESPN at 9:30 or so. Usually it's some made-up sport like porpoise swallowing, or soccer.

I've found the problem with the mega-breweries. They put all of their money into bottle and can technology, and into advertising that technology, and make up for the cost of doing so by replacing beer ingredients (barley, hops, yeast, water) with adjuncts (corn, rice, pure distilled evil, sugar). Metal bottles in shiny blue, can tops which are designed to pour smoother... none of the research seems to be going to the "make this beer less crappy" R&D department. Get rid of the talking frogs, the stupid can and bottle modifications, the party cruises, the gigantic sponsorships, the slogan wars, and what's left? Fake beer.

At the Tavern, I serve real beer, and vow only to serve real beer. Real beer is crafted, not manufactured. Real beer is made with real ingredients, not cost-cutting adjuncts. Real beer is for real people. And robots. Robots HATE fake beer. Except for that robot that came with the original Nintendo. They drank Milwaukee's Best, which was probably the real reason for their downfall.

We grand-open on the 4th of July at 11:00am. Live blues and great pub-grub.

And real beer.

And robots.

Ok, not robots.

But real beer.

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