Malt and Vine
Ask any author, and they’ll tell you that writing from a change of scenery can be terribly stimulating. Getting out from behind my desk on Moon Base Alpha tends to wake me up from the normality I surround myself with every day when I write for hours at a time. All the greats do this; Hemmingway had
The problem for me is getting the right mixture of silence and noise. Unlike Samuel Clemens, I can’t write simply anywhere there’s a flat surface to set up and log in from. (I can hear old Twain now: “We didn’t log in back in my day, ‘ya young whippersnapper!”) I’m a little persnickety that way…I need dead silence with no interruptions, or a place that I’m so comfortable in that I don’t care about the background noise. I tried several times to get “settled in” at various places around Seattle, and many were recommended by other writer friends; Starbuck’s, The Wharf, A Pink Floyd concert. Ungh. I couldn’t stand Starbuck’s, even if I could stand the coffee. I can’t stand that either, just so’s we’re clear, but if I could…The lesbian-cappuccino-performing arts-Goatee-black turtleneck-tourist crowd that overpopulates the locale a mile from my house makes me want to vomit. I HATE the Starbuck’s culture, hate it with a passion uncontested. People come in and order what laughingly passes for coffee, sit and nurse it for hours, all the while acting as if they don’t really want to be there.
So you see my dilemma. I want out, but no place to go.
Until Malt and Vine opened, that is.
Doug Englar and Lizzie Myers opened their little beer and wine emporium over a year ago, and dealt mostly through word of mouth advertising. Which is a shame, considering it’s THE place for import beer and fine wines in
And nary a Budweiser in sight. That alone is enough to insure my patronage.
Malt and Vine isn’t an average tavern or spirits distributor. Located in a tucked-away retail spot in downtown
Although Malt and Vine is typically classified as a “tavern”, the crowd here isn’t your average patronage from Joe’s bar and eats. Most are international connoisseurs, people who have partaken from the pub around the corner from the Guinness factory in Dublin to French wine experts to Chimay fanatics such as myself.Every Friday Doug and Lizzie host a beer tasting, and $2.00 lets you sample a variety of classics and new entries from all over the world.
That’s the thing about this place, probably what keeps me coming back more than anything else: The variety. If you like beer at all, they have something for your taste. And if you’ve never tried anything but the local label, Doug and Lizzie can turn you on to some tastes you might not have ever known you had.
The Belgian section, for instance, has all my favorites in one place; Gulden Draak, Koningshoeven Quadruppel, St. Bernardus, Goulden Carolus Grand Cru, Duvel, Kwak, La Fin Du Monde, and of course, the holy Chimay.
Looking for something different? Try the McEwan’s Scotch Ale, or something from their complete line of Dogfish Head Beers (World Wide Stout and Raison D’Etre are my favorites!) or give the Allagash brewery a try. Check out the Alba Scots Pine Ale, an interestingly sweet beer that uses pine sprigs as a preservative instead of hops. Eridinger, Dopplebock Celebrator, Scaldis and Fat Tire are also represented here, and with several variation for each. You cannot go wrong here.
Doug has also opened up a wine storage cellar next door as well, and if you’re serious about storing your spirits under the right conditions, it’s a must. Wine and aged Belgian ale both must be kept at a certain temperature to insure quality upon consumption. Doug knows his stuff, and can guide both the novice and aficionado drinker through the world of fine alcohol.
You can find Doug and Lizzie at Malt and Vine. If you’re in the
2 comments:
Careful there, Kid, this sounds like a great place but also a great rationalization.
Lemme see: Hemmingway shot himself because he drank so much he couldn't get it up any more. If there had been Viagra, he might still be around.
King got run over by a van on one of his walks all over Maine, spent a lot of quality time in the hospital and came out addicted to painkillers.
Kerouac drank himself to death in his forties -- blew out his liver.
Most of the Merry Pranksters who rode the bus are dead. Kesey's liver got him, too.
Pat Conroy is still hanging in there, but this ain't such good odds. What you want is to get famous and then die, not the other way around ...
Don't forget the Filipino Restaurant with the hostess that gives back as well as she takes. Oh , and the donut shop right around the corner from you.
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