Take one state capital, add 30,000 or so college students, stir in a rich
football tradition and--voila!--you've got a can't-miss recipe for good times.
Take Austin, for instance. It's the home of the University of Texas, ranked by Princeton
Review as one of America's top 10 party schools. It won't take you long to
find out that U-T's ranking was richly deserved.
When I visited, I discovered that after a cool, wet summer at home, my system
wasn't prepared for temperatures in the 90s, with humidity to match.
Fortunately, there's a cure for that: Don't exert yourself; stay out of the sun;
and, oh, yes, drink plenty of liquids. Austin was ready to oblige; it's home to
dozens of bars and clubs; and by day it operates the "Dillos," free
motorized trolleys that shuttle office workers--and the occasional Beer
Traveler--around the city center.
My first stop was Opal Divine's Free House (700 West Sixth Street). Named for
co-owner Susan Parker's saucy grandmother, it's a Texified version of an Irish
country pub. This 125-year-old structure sports a huge outside deck, with
misting machines to combat the weather. Inside, half a dozen air-conditioned
rooms accommodate a range of moods. After looking around, I found my way to a
downstairs room and sat across from a tiny bar decorated with foreign currency
stapled to the walls. The rows of taps, nearly 30 in all, included the local
Live Oak, Real Ale, and St. Arnold's breweries, as well as imports and national
micros. The atmosphere was traditional, with one notable exception: Free Wi-Fi,
which is taking the town by storm.
From Funk to Romance
Downtown is home to three brewpubs, and visiting them provided an interesting
exercise in compare and contrast. Copper Tank Brewing Company (504 Trinity
Street) is located just south of Sixth Street, one of the liveliest strips in
college-town America. It's a huge establishment that attracts students who watch
football games, find new friends on the dance floor, and, of course, drink. The
house beers, brewed behind the bar that runs the length of the south wall,
include Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, a blonde Belgian-style ale; Big Dog Brown
Ale; Firehouse Stout; and Whitetail Pale Ale. It gets noisy here, especially
when there's a game on the big TV screens, but there's a mini-beer garden in
back and a couple of side rooms to which you can escape.
A few blocks away is Lovejoy's Tap Room and Brewery (604 Neches Street),
where the operative words are "funk" and "grunge."
First-timers might find it daunting. From the outside it looks closed, and the
interior resembles Delta House after a troupe of artistically-inclined Goths
swept in. It features, among other things, a blasphemous depiction of cherubs
and a coffin pressed into service as a table.
Lovejoy's draws an mixed, older crowd, some of whom look like leftover extras
from Slackers, which was filmed in Austin. When I walked in, a man at the
bar was denouncing a local architect to everyone within earshot. But don't let
the clientele frighten you. This is a corner tavern reserved for people who, as
the sign by the men's room proclaims, refuse to live the way Madison Avenue
tells them. Besides, that man with a pierced nose just might be the next winner
of the National Book Award.
On the bartender's recommendation, I had a pint of Splendor in the Grass Mild
Ale, a good example of a hard-to-find style. Lovejoy's brews its house beers on
a four-barrel system, the likes of which you've probably seen in a friend's
basement. There are also two dozen micros and imports on tap; a large, well
thought-out selection of bottled beers; and wine and espresso. The jukebox is
said to have Austin's most eclectic music selection; and comfy, lived-in,
couches and chairs welcome groups of friends.
Downtown's third brewpub, the Bitter End Bistro and Beer Garden (311 Colorado
Street), is the consensus choice as the best in town. It's located in the
Warehouse District, which draws a somewhat older, and more well-heeled, crowd
than the bars near Sixth Street. The owners have done a lot to soften this
ex-warehouse's industrial look and feel. It's divided into several dining areas,
with a few private alcoves; there are soft pastel colors throughout, a light
sculpture above the bar, and modern furniture--with soft music to round out the
mood. The Bitter End is also home to the B-Side Tap Room and Lounge, which was
named Austin's most romantic bar.
Bitter End's beer, like its decor, is first-class; it's earned several medals
at the Great American Beer Festival. The lineup includes Austin Pale Ale, an
unfiltered version of the style; E-Z Wheat; Poindexter Pils; nitro-dispensed
Sledgehammer Stout; and Bat City Lager, named for the colony of Mexican freetail
bats that fly out from under the Congress Avenue bridge at sunset. There are
also specials and seasonals, including high-gravity beers and a banana-flavored
ale served in eight-ounce glasses. The Texas-and-beyond fusion menu features
such offbeat items as fried antelope and trout fritters, along with Pacific Rim
and Caribbean cuisine.
More Not to Be Missed
If you're an avid beer hunter, or a devotee of great beer bars, Ginger Man
(304 West Fourth Street) belongs at the top of your Austin to-do list. It's part
of a "close-knit family" of four establishments in Texas and New York
City. The name comes from J.P. Donleavy's cult novel describing the adventures,
which can't be described here, of an Irish-American layabout in 1940s Dublin.
The Ginger Man is a throwback to the British Isles, with a dartboard off to
one side, library-style chairs, and even a few snugs like those found in Irish
pubs. You can literally lose yourself in a book here--audio distractions are
kept to a minimum--or mingle with the after-work crowd on the patio in back. But
the main attraction is an ever-changing selection of some 70 drafts and 100
bottled beers, including several lambics, a cask selection or two, and even a
few South American labels. New arrivals are announced on the beautifully-drawn
blackboards above the bar; and, if you have questions, the staff is glad to
help.
I couldn't leave town without a visit to Scholz Garden (1607 San Jacinto
Boulevard). Austin's German community has preserved its culture here for
generations; the property is still owned by a German singing club. The beer
garden--the only place to be on a warm, clear night--was a little slice of
Bavaria, with shared picnic tables; German draft beer; and a 33-piece oompah
band, complete with a big bass drum and blue Alpine backdrop behind the
musicians. There was German comfort food, of course, as well as local favorites
like chicken-fried steaks and peach cobbler, which were added during the
near-beer days of Prohibition to keep the customers coming.
A national historical site, Scholz Garden is rich in political heritage.
Lyndon Johnson was a customer, most Texas governors have eaten here, and
legislators from the nearby State Capitol have parleyed over beers. The state
constitution was once rewritten at its tables. According to one local pundit,
conservatives prefer the air-conditioned quarters inside, while liberals
gravitate to the beer garden. Unfortunately, he never explained why.
This article originally appeared in All About Beer, May
2005.
Copyright © 2005 PAUL RUSCHMANN. All Rights Reserved.
Posted May 2005.
