I'll drink to that!

Pilsners were the beer in question in a recent New York Times piece lamenting the lack of beer options and New York's new baseball stadiums. Unlike Yankee and Met fans, Phillies fans have plenty to cheer about and so does the rest of Philadelphia's beer drinking public. Victory Prima Pils came out on top with the reviewer stating "It seemed to be alive in the glass, with wonderfully refreshing bitterness to balance the floral and citrus aromas." On a hot summer day I love a cold, crisp bitter beer and Prima Pils is a definite favorite. The brewing company itself is also great about giving back to Philadelphia sponsoring many local events (including The Print Center's Annual Auction) so that gets a big thumbs up in my book.

The other end of the state got a nod as well with Pennsylvania Brewing Company taking second place. Haven't tried their beer before, but I'll definitely be on the look out.

Check out the rest of the New York Times story here.

On a Friday Night...

Went to the Jamaican Jerk Hut last night to hear our lovely friend Tedford play some Reggae (mon...). The music was lovely, the night was lovely, the garden was lovely and all in all I would suggest it as a wonderful way to spend a Friday night. However, I offer you this one caveat. Don't Order Dinner. Eating was the biggest cluster fuck I've experienced in a very long time. Nothing came out at the same time. I got different parts of my meal at varying times. They ran out of what Anna ordered, but didn't bother to tell her until they brought out nothing more than a side dish for her and asked if that was really all she wanted. In fact, from what I hear, they ran out of everything. Oh, and pitchers of juice (without any booze) are $25 each. Infact, everything other than a patty (kind of like a hand held pot pie) is really expensive. Dinner will invariably be about $30-$40 dollars a person after tip, tax and corking fee (don't even get Laura started).



So, my suggestion to you, should you choose to accept it: Go to the Jerk Hut, sit on the lawn, bring your own booze, get a patty or bowl of rice and enjoy the music. Anything else will make you insane.



Finally, here's a little drawing for you--a view I see as I walk to the Jerk Hut from work.

The New Post...

I don't know how many of you ever made it to my dearly beloved and now departed gay bar The Post. It was a little dungeon of drunken iniquity in a dark alleyway just off Rittenhouse Square. You felt like you needed a password to get in, but once you were inside you were greeted by the nicest, most friendly bartender in the world--Jimmy, known in some circles as Mr. Northeast Leather. This man loved Anna and I from the minuted we entered. He even bought me dinner the night Anna left me to go visit her mom. It was the first time we'd been apart. We celebrated our 6month-aversary there. We celebrated birthdays there. I had an entire shrimp platter spilled on me one New Years Eve. It was an unlikely venue for me to feel so at home, but if you have ever gone to Sisters you will know exactly why I loved the Post. It was everything Sisters wasn't. The rafters were decorated with stuffed teddy bears sucking each other off, there were Drawing 101 gesture drawings of naked men on the wall, and in the back a second bar with the most disinterested male strippers I'd ever seen swaying back and forth to gay dance music. Still, i loved it. Then the owner was caught with a pile of Meth in the back room and The Post was no more.

Flash back to another dream of mine--to open a lesbian bar that doesn't suck. It would be just like The Post but without the strippers. It would have better beer on tap, a small dance floor and Patsy Cline in the jukebox and ladies could slow dance with their butches. I was really into Stone Butch Blues at the time. Well, it seems two lovely ladies have stolen my idea, not that i can really claim it that much. I'm sure it was a popular thought (again, visit Sisters and you'll know why) but still, it never seemed like it was going to happen, until now. Stir has just opened inside the former Post. It doesn't look at all like what i had envisioned for my lovely lesbian bar. In fact, from the pictures it's hard to tell that it was ever The Post. Still, I'm thrilled to know that the space is being used in a queer way and that there will at least be lesbians slow dancing somewhere in the building. Check it out. 1705 Chancellor St. (a dark ally just south of Walnut Street)