I'm not real sure why I've been holding on to this one, but I'm sitting across from a plate full of sausage from Taylor Cafe, so I'm glad I did.
Pours a clear golden amber with a nice light tan, pillowy head. Sweet malty smell, with a slight spicy zip to it.
A bit more bitterness in the taste than I expected based on the smell. It's actually fairly bitter for the style. Still malty, but it tastes like a fall pale, as opposed to a marzen.
I don't know. I really like the brewery, but this beer seems off type enough for me to not like it too much.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Taylor Cafe
This is Vencil Mares:
I didn't know it when I first walked in. I even took the photo before I knew it. I just liked being back in a small town where you can go to a place like this and see regulars and locals, which I thought he was. And the conversation started up easily enough--we were the only two people in the place except for two waitresses and from the sounds in the back one person cutting the meat with an electric knife. He asked where I was from, and I told him. Asked what I was doing in town, and I told him. I asked if he'd always been from Taylor, and he said just since '46, when he moved from Cistern, Texas. Turns out he left out a few things that the conversation turned up, like being a medic in WWII. If you're not familiar with medics, especially back then, they're the ones who go into combat without guns. They're there to pull people out, and can't fire back, thought they were frequent and favorite targets of the other side. Shooting a medic meant wounded soldiers would continue to draw resources in order to get them off the field, or even more frequently, die before another medic could get to them. So if anyone has earned the right to have a long life in a quiet sleepy town doing what he loves in a way that makes him a legend at it, it's Vencil. And it's a bit funny that one of the best BBQ places in town is hidden damn near under a bridge behind this door:
But if you're coming from the north, be careful to divert to the right just before the bridge (you'll know it when you see it), or else this is all you'll see:
I guess he's content to be hidden, seeing as how people seek his BBQ out without so much as a website, although others put his store on theirs. Vencil's been doing it his own way for a while--he's 87, you see, and has an air of being proud of what he does without the need to glorify it. Although if you ask him about being one of the best BBQ joints in Texas he'll probably get up and walk behind the counter to get you an autographed copy of the September 26, 2010 Taylor Daily Press, in which he was featured.
I noticed the banner and asked when his birthday was, thinking I'd missed it by a day or so because the banner was still up. "Back in November." I guess if I live that long and anyone prints me a banner, I'll leave it up and slap a new number over the old one every year, too.
As for the food, well, I reached a sort of an epiphany. Not because of the food, but because of the man. I've tried, and think I have largely succeeded, in being constructive on this blog. Except where those have billed themselves as something they're not, I've gone fairly easy. And most of those are brewers, especially those who brew something ridiculous or make claims like being a craft brewer when they are clearly not. And even those guys won't see so much as a blip because of something I've written. Nobody reads this and nothing results from it. It truly is more of a journal, intended to suffice where my memory cannot, I've just left it public.
But it has become so easy to criticize the life's work of another person. To sit back and take shots at certain things that you presume to know more about. Vencil has been doing it for decades, and no criticism of mine will compare to his life's work. 64 years in Taylor, and someone who hasn't been alive hardly half that time can criticize him? No way.
But these are my notes, and I will make them.
I ordered my standard three meat plate of sausage, ribs, and brisket, with a half chicken as well. There were only two sides--potato salad and pinto beans, so that's what I had. The potato salad was pretty good. I'm not a huge potato salad fan, but it wasn't mushy and gooey like many are, and was a little zippy. The beans seemed a little ranchy at first, but settled down and were well-cooked and got more peppery the more I had. I was a bit surprised to see the meat come out with sauce on it. The sauce was a little tomatoey, with a slight vinegar zip. Not too spicy, but otherwise a good compliment to the food.
The brisket was good, but had a ton of fat on it. It trimmed easily, but if you're buying something by the pound it would be better of it was leaner. Otherwise, it was well smoked and tender. The ribs were outstanding. Again, I wish they had been leaner, but the rub was great and they pulled away from the bone nicely. The chicken was also outstanding, well smoked by not dry. And the sausage was probably my favorite of the Hill Country sausages. All beef and lean but not dry, and also not chunky like summer sausage, it was nice and peppery and as good as everything else was, this was far better.
There are very few days where you go to eat and feel like you can come away with a sense of what Texas and BBQ should be all about, but go early and sit by Vencil. You'll get that feeling too.
I didn't know it when I first walked in. I even took the photo before I knew it. I just liked being back in a small town where you can go to a place like this and see regulars and locals, which I thought he was. And the conversation started up easily enough--we were the only two people in the place except for two waitresses and from the sounds in the back one person cutting the meat with an electric knife. He asked where I was from, and I told him. Asked what I was doing in town, and I told him. I asked if he'd always been from Taylor, and he said just since '46, when he moved from Cistern, Texas. Turns out he left out a few things that the conversation turned up, like being a medic in WWII. If you're not familiar with medics, especially back then, they're the ones who go into combat without guns. They're there to pull people out, and can't fire back, thought they were frequent and favorite targets of the other side. Shooting a medic meant wounded soldiers would continue to draw resources in order to get them off the field, or even more frequently, die before another medic could get to them. So if anyone has earned the right to have a long life in a quiet sleepy town doing what he loves in a way that makes him a legend at it, it's Vencil. And it's a bit funny that one of the best BBQ places in town is hidden damn near under a bridge behind this door:
But if you're coming from the north, be careful to divert to the right just before the bridge (you'll know it when you see it), or else this is all you'll see:
I guess he's content to be hidden, seeing as how people seek his BBQ out without so much as a website, although others put his store on theirs. Vencil's been doing it his own way for a while--he's 87, you see, and has an air of being proud of what he does without the need to glorify it. Although if you ask him about being one of the best BBQ joints in Texas he'll probably get up and walk behind the counter to get you an autographed copy of the September 26, 2010 Taylor Daily Press, in which he was featured.
I noticed the banner and asked when his birthday was, thinking I'd missed it by a day or so because the banner was still up. "Back in November." I guess if I live that long and anyone prints me a banner, I'll leave it up and slap a new number over the old one every year, too.
As for the food, well, I reached a sort of an epiphany. Not because of the food, but because of the man. I've tried, and think I have largely succeeded, in being constructive on this blog. Except where those have billed themselves as something they're not, I've gone fairly easy. And most of those are brewers, especially those who brew something ridiculous or make claims like being a craft brewer when they are clearly not. And even those guys won't see so much as a blip because of something I've written. Nobody reads this and nothing results from it. It truly is more of a journal, intended to suffice where my memory cannot, I've just left it public.
But it has become so easy to criticize the life's work of another person. To sit back and take shots at certain things that you presume to know more about. Vencil has been doing it for decades, and no criticism of mine will compare to his life's work. 64 years in Taylor, and someone who hasn't been alive hardly half that time can criticize him? No way.
But these are my notes, and I will make them.
I ordered my standard three meat plate of sausage, ribs, and brisket, with a half chicken as well. There were only two sides--potato salad and pinto beans, so that's what I had. The potato salad was pretty good. I'm not a huge potato salad fan, but it wasn't mushy and gooey like many are, and was a little zippy. The beans seemed a little ranchy at first, but settled down and were well-cooked and got more peppery the more I had. I was a bit surprised to see the meat come out with sauce on it. The sauce was a little tomatoey, with a slight vinegar zip. Not too spicy, but otherwise a good compliment to the food.
The brisket was good, but had a ton of fat on it. It trimmed easily, but if you're buying something by the pound it would be better of it was leaner. Otherwise, it was well smoked and tender. The ribs were outstanding. Again, I wish they had been leaner, but the rub was great and they pulled away from the bone nicely. The chicken was also outstanding, well smoked by not dry. And the sausage was probably my favorite of the Hill Country sausages. All beef and lean but not dry, and also not chunky like summer sausage, it was nice and peppery and as good as everything else was, this was far better.
There are very few days where you go to eat and feel like you can come away with a sense of what Texas and BBQ should be all about, but go early and sit by Vencil. You'll get that feeling too.
Billy Joe Shaver
If you're a country music fan, and I mean real country music and not that faggotty long-haired untucked-shirt boy band fake country bullshit like half the crap on the country stations today, you need to catch Billy Joe Shaver at one of his current concerts. Or even if you're not.
He's written songs that have been sung by Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Willie Nelson, among others, and continues to write songs that tell great stories.
In addition to some of his standards, he tells stories that are rambling accounts of dead wives and a dead son, religion, a struggle to live, addiction, and salvation. Some are clearly better than others, but all are good and all can cause some serious introspection if you're listening to the words.
My particular favorite--his new song about shooting a man in the head when a bar fight got out of hand. When you look at this guy, you have to wonder with as frail as he looks (he may not be around too much longer folks, so go see him while you can), why in the hell was he fighting anyone at all? When he was asked by the prosecutor--on the stand--why he didn't retreat when the fight escalated, he responded "Ma'am, if I was chickenshit I would have. But this is Texas. And I'm not." And he was acquitted anyway.
One of the strangest things about the night was that I counted at least four songs with strong allusions to God, or Jesus, if not being completely about Christianity, and sandwiched right in the middle of them was the song about shooting a man in the head. And he sang every one of them without a hint of irony. Without a single inclination that the songs might be the least bit conflicting. God bless Texas, I guess.
Go see this guy.
He's written songs that have been sung by Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Willie Nelson, among others, and continues to write songs that tell great stories.
In addition to some of his standards, he tells stories that are rambling accounts of dead wives and a dead son, religion, a struggle to live, addiction, and salvation. Some are clearly better than others, but all are good and all can cause some serious introspection if you're listening to the words.
My particular favorite--his new song about shooting a man in the head when a bar fight got out of hand. When you look at this guy, you have to wonder with as frail as he looks (he may not be around too much longer folks, so go see him while you can), why in the hell was he fighting anyone at all? When he was asked by the prosecutor--on the stand--why he didn't retreat when the fight escalated, he responded "Ma'am, if I was chickenshit I would have. But this is Texas. And I'm not." And he was acquitted anyway.
One of the strangest things about the night was that I counted at least four songs with strong allusions to God, or Jesus, if not being completely about Christianity, and sandwiched right in the middle of them was the song about shooting a man in the head. And he sang every one of them without a hint of irony. Without a single inclination that the songs might be the least bit conflicting. God bless Texas, I guess.
Go see this guy.
...But I do no like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.
...but he doesn't want the poor to be able to see a doctor.
It's funny, to me, that those who throw the name of God around the most are also the most likely to argue against things like social services for the poor, universal health care, and such.
I'll just leave this here for you to think about.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Saint Arnold Brewing Company's Divine Reserve No. 11
Hey--y'all wouldn't happen to know where there's a local beer store that has a few bottles of DR 11 squirreled away for sale, would you?
I do. Suck it.
I'm glad to buy a few singles of this, since the DR 6 was a complete disaster in my opinion. I know it wasn't in your opinion. Feel free to write your opinions down somewhere. And yes, I know 6 was a barley wine and 11 is an imperial IPA. But you'll be hard pressed to point out any substantive differences in the two styles.
This one, however, is sitting next to me in a glass smelling much better than DR 6. It seems to be malt-forward so far, with a bigger, sweeter malt profile in the smell than you could ever get through the pine sap in a glass that they called DR 6. Big body with a nice solid bitterness that doesn't drown out everything else. Great malt backbone in what I would call a malt-forward barleywine or IIPA.
Probably the best beer St. A's has ever made. Much better than their standards, and with increased capacity I look forward to bigger batches and maybe even bombers of their bigger beers like this.
/relieved
I do. Suck it.
I'm glad to buy a few singles of this, since the DR 6 was a complete disaster in my opinion. I know it wasn't in your opinion. Feel free to write your opinions down somewhere. And yes, I know 6 was a barley wine and 11 is an imperial IPA. But you'll be hard pressed to point out any substantive differences in the two styles.
This one, however, is sitting next to me in a glass smelling much better than DR 6. It seems to be malt-forward so far, with a bigger, sweeter malt profile in the smell than you could ever get through the pine sap in a glass that they called DR 6. Big body with a nice solid bitterness that doesn't drown out everything else. Great malt backbone in what I would call a malt-forward barleywine or IIPA.
Probably the best beer St. A's has ever made. Much better than their standards, and with increased capacity I look forward to bigger batches and maybe even bombers of their bigger beers like this.
/relieved
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