There were no smiles, just puzzled, furrowed brows. Except for mine, of course. I had a barely-contained evil grin.
It’s a stick of butter disguised as a cake. It’s so good. So rich. I felt my thighs fluff and my arteries harden from just one bite.
My friend John Curtas of Eating Las Vegas fame told me in my early Vegas Wineaux blogging career, “don’t review a restaurant after only one visit.” Well, he’s a genuine restaurant critic with years of experience, and except for the occasional stellar or stinky incident, I have taken his advice to heart.
So the overall review of the beers is a positive one. The lagers were novice-friendly, the ales, porters, and stouts (what few there were) were complex and mouthfilling. The IPAs ranged from gently hoppy to “Dude, where’s my tongue?”
The finish was pleasantly bitter, hinting of Meyer lemon and coffee. Delicious. And did a fairly good job of slapping my palate around a bit.
Someone had said that they had really good food and were a “microbrewery” with “hand-crafted beers.” Whatever that was.