On tap at Tap & Grind, approachable moderate-bodied India Pale Ale (4th installment of citric-hopped varietal) spreads dry wood parch across subtle grapefruit-peeled pineapple, apricot and mandarin orange illusions. Perfumed citrus finish lingers elegantly.
On tap at Tap & Grind, soft honeyed spicing lingers gently alongside initial bruised yellow fruiting and sedate resinous piney hop bittering. Lemony yellow grapefruit, pineapple and tangerine tartness politely engages carbolic Seltzer fizz.
On tap at Tap & Grind, ‘poundable’ citra-hopped India Pale Ale retains scintillating sessionable subtlety. Herbaceous floral-perfumed citrus dryness anchored by resinous earthen graining and light caramel malting. Soft lemon, grapefruit, orange, apricot and pineapple tang picks up piney evergreen freshness as well as pungent vegetal respite. A well-balanced crossover for lighter drinking ale heads.
ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Across from the Orlando Fire Department in a small downtown ground floor space carved out of a large parking garage just off Route 4 lies TAP & GRIND, a ‘psychedelicized’ beer-centric tavern that’s become a top destination spot alongside inspirational mentors, RedLight RedLight Beer Parlor. Retaining a relaxed folksy vibe and friendly intimacy, the cozy craft pub began operations during February ’12. And local loyal minions have sung its praises from the get-go.
Hands-on proprietor Jason Chan serves as congenial host for my wife and I as we settle in before dusk on a muggy Wednesday in early December ’13. A revolving Tap & Grind Craft Beer pole and windowed frontage (featuring neon Victory, Green Flash and Left Hand signs) welcome patrons to the narrow black-walled interior.
Celebrating nautical beachcombers as well as sporting landlubbers with ceiling-hung surfboards and wall-bound skateboards, visiting Chan’s delightful cavern is like slipping into a fascinating underground artists’ subterranean digs. Two blackboards list the well-chosen tapped selections and indigenous Florida cypress wood furnishings adorn the 14-seat bar, strewn benches, community tables and trusses. A visually enlightening blue wave gives the bar a bright oceanic atmosphere surrounding one large TV. Provocative philosophical quotes appear when the black lights are turned on in the glow-in-the-dark bathrooms.
Reggae legend Bob Marley gets saluted with memorabilia and a large poster as “Roots Rock Reggae” plays in the background and I get set to imbibe a few previously untried local brews.
“I love beer and started drinking imports after branching away from Bud Lite,” Chan explains while I dig into Green Room 400 Beer Storm IPA and Green Room Royal Palm Belgian Blond (from Jacksonville Beach). “I was hooked on Bud Lite like cigarettes. Then I discovered Killians Red, Guinness and Beck’s. That was when American brewers began crafting better beer. Americans are doing the best job of brewing now. I completely respect English, German and Belgian beer. We borrowed from all those styles and are now better.”
A cool dude with noble intentions, Chan just expanded his rotating tapped selections from 16 to 20 and a refrigerator next to the bar carries 40-plus bottled beers. Though the current landscape for locals is to party hard, he believes they need to be more cultured. And that’s where the prolific Florida craft beer movement comes in.
“We feel we’re giving back to America and it makes me sleep well at night,” Chan quips.
Starting with RedLight Red Light and Rossi’s Italian Restaurant as well as the proliferation of Orlando Brewing Company, Central Florida’s beer scene has increased by leaps and bounds since my last visit nearly a decade hence.
As darkness settles in, I quaff two more worthy local beers: Fort Lauderdale-based Funky Buddha Crusher and Orange Blossom Pilsner Back In The Day IPA (all beers mentioned reviewed in Beer Index).
Before leaving, the gracious Chan shares a few Brouwerij West beers from San Diego while associate Megan Cheeks serves Dogfish Head Piercing Pils. The daughter of Orlando Brewing’s co-owner, John Cheeks, she recently developed Girl Stout, a peppermint-leafed dark ale with cocoa nibs that received plaudits from everyone who has tried the respected elixir.
Here’s hoping I get back next year when I return to Disney to watch my nephew’s Bergen County Stars football team win the Midgets Football Championship.
LONGWOOD, FLORIDA
Pitched between Sanford and Orlando in Central Florida, Longwood boasts one of the finest nano-breweries the Sunshine State has to offer. HOURGLASS BREWERY is the pride and joy of brewers’ Brett Mason and Sky Conley, two beer enthusiasts who couldn’t resist starting thier own neighborhood pub.
Tucked behind an inconspicuous beige clapboard-sided ranch house in a glorified garage just off the main strip, Hourglass may be small, but its everchanging small-batch output (60-plus recipes since mid-2012) matches operations thrice its diminutive size.
It’s barely noon as I arrive at Hourglass for my initial December ’13 sojourn. At the right side driveway is a rustic outdoor patio setup. As patrons move towards the white door entrance, there are a few wood tables and chairs for outdoor quaffing. Upon entering, the taproom features an L-shaped black bar where Mason pours me four pints of homemade ales duirng a 90-minute session.
Snazzy surfboards, framed Florida-bound photos and a stenciled Back To The Future mural bedeck the walls and a beautiful maroon-glowed Salvadore Dali portrait is painted into the jet black ceiling. At the bay window across the glass-encased brewtanks is a drawing of Peter Griffin fighting the chicken in Family Guy.
Hourglass is the perfect little fort-sized hideway. And that’s fine with Mason, whose photos of his own ‘mancave’ a few miles away includes many vintage toys and loads of beer memorabilia, some of which he sold to get the brewery going.
“Why wouldn’t anyone want to start a brewery? It’s a place for friends to hangout and have some good beers,” Mason maintains as I down flagship A Maize Zing Cream Ale, a dry-bodied moderation with light maize-honeyed creaming and slight citrus spicing perfect for summer sessions.
A custom-wood designer by trade, Mason’s well-rounded job profile is reflected in the diversity of the recipes he and Conley craft. One of their best designs happens to be a ‘delectable strawberry, vanilla and Graham Cracker concoction.’
Despite all the one-off projects, the popular What Do You See? Brown Ale, with its sweet nougat center, peanut-shelled hazelnut roast, black chocolate bean bittering and minor hop-charred soap-stoning, can be found on many occasions.
Better still, richly expressive Prestissimo Strong Scotch Ale brought sugary cookie dough sweetness to black cherry-pureed dried fruiting and spicy cinnamon toasting.
Even more fantastic was today’s encore, the barleywine-like Schizandra Belgian Cherry Quad. Melding warm cognac, sweet sherry and dry burgundy into cherry-bruised orange tartness, its chewy caramel malt creaminess seals the deal.
Not only does Hourglass boast its own fine lineup, but there’s a refrigerator with at least 50 bottled selections. Before leaving, I picked up Beer Here’s Kremlin Crude Russian Imperial Stout, a rauchbier-smoked hybrid with a chocolate chip signature (reviewed in Beer Index).
WINTER PARK, FLORIDA
Just northeast of Orlando in suburban Winter Park on bustling Fairbanks Avenue, well-respected CASK & LARDER SOUTHERN PUBLIC HOUSE opened during summertime, 2012. The brainchild of Ravenous Pig gastropub chef-owners James and Julie Petrakis, the freestanding brick-fronted venue (with plush green plants and floral-bound broad-iron cafe tables lining the garden entrance) serves sessionable flagship beers and sundry hybridized novelties alongside delicious locally sourced food.
Joining the Petrakis clan after becoming a Cicerone-certified Shipyard brewmaster with a Masters in computer engineering from University of Central Florida, Ron Raike specializes in English and Belgian styled ales as well as sour ales. A trip to Belgium with a few local beer enthusiasts and Red Light Red Light companions inspired Raike to emulate the witbier style, changing up spices and citric zest but keeping the same base for various different versions.
Upon visiting Cask & Larder December ’13 on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, my wife and I grab seats at the 15-stooled bar across from the right side community tables, wood booths, open kitchen and brick hearth. Bright aquamarine-hued walls and exposed beige ducts bring a warm Floridian feel to the elegantly pristine setting. Two glass-encased brewtanks and stainless steel fermenters behind the tap engines serve ten diverse offerings.
Tom Petty’s classic rocker, “American Girl,” plays loudly as I order ten 5-ounce samplers and enjoy a dozen oysters. The upscale southern cuisine includes many items made from scratch. And several fine wines line the menu.
For starters, I imbibe three easygoing year-round ales. Lone Palm Golden Ale balanced dry grassy-hopped herbal peppering with soft lemon-spiced florality and corn-husked grain malts. 90 Shilling Scotch Ale stayed sweet as its honeyed tea influence draped dewy earthiness and dried orange.
Those choices sufficed, but the most amazing flagship offering had to be Olde Southern Wit, a mellow herb-spiced moderation bringing lively lemony orange zest to coriander-daubed lemongrass-basil-roasemary seasoning above a soft wheat bed.
From there, Simcoe 5 Point IPA brought dry wood acridity to perfumed pineapple, grapefruit and orange peel alacrity. Old Southern Starfruit Wit evenly spread coriander-spiced star fruit, navel orange and tangerine tones across generous grapefruit bittering. And mild pablano-jalapeno peppering added heat to Smoked Pepper All Jacked Up, an autumnal hybrid with hop-oiled foliage and citric-quince nuances.
Then came the colorful dessert beers, led by dark-spiced Winter Lager, a tame crystal-malted moderation with soft hop bittering and rye-dried prune sugaring. Chocolate-Covered Strawberry Porter captured the true essence of sweet ‘n sour strawberry as desiccated fig and cherry found tertiary space beside the understated chocolate backdrop.
Aged in whiskey barrels, St. Katy On Whiskey Milk Stout delicately blanketed dry Johnnie Walker Blue serenity with soft-toned black chocolate, blackberry and black cherry nuances.
Since it’s almost Christmastime, I saved Holiday Cookie for an encore. Its sweet cinnamon-spiced sugar cookie theme got usurped by raw ginger and lacquered wood tones.
Any brewhound taking a trip to central Florida must frequent this encouraging public house. Cheers!
ORLANDO, FLORIDA
Along John Young Parkway in the Village of Hunters Creek at Orlando’s western outskirts lies HOUSE OF BEER, a fabulous two-room watering hole in an earthen slated mini mall with a small front patio and totally beer-centric interior. At the 12-seat stainless-steeled L-shaped right bar, I grab a chair in early December ’13 on a Sunday afternoon to drain a few diverse offerings while watching NFL football on one of the three TV’s.
A glorified sportsbar for those well-versed in craft beer, neon Sweetwater and Leinenkugel signposts (plus various craft beer logos) spread across the walls while exposed pipes line the ceiling. A black beer booklet with descriptive reviews lists all 48 revolving tapped beers currently available. A refrigerator stores 200-plus bottled craft beers and several Coastal Wines. To the left, a gorgeous Widmer Brothers mural covers a brick wall and several couches and booths assure plenty of seating. A large Ommegang banner leads patrons to the front hall billiard table.
During my 2-hour stopover, I quaff lactobacillus-derived citric-soured New Belgium Yuzu Imperial Berlinerweiss, zesty citric-fronted herbal-spiced 7venth Sun Intergalactic Pale Ale, dew-dropped reedy-hopped Cigar City Minaret ESB and fruit-caked holiday-spiced St. Bernardus Christmas Ale (full reviews in Beer Index).
Before leaving, I pick up Cigar City’s Jose Marti Porter and Tocobaga Red Ale alongside Inlet Monk In The Trunk Amber Ale and France’s Bellerose Blonde.
On the way back to Disneyland, journeyed quickly to nearby ABC Fine Wine & Spirits for a host of local brews including Cocoa Beach Pale Ale and Not Just Some Oatmeal Stout, Florida Lager, Holy Mackerel Mack In Black, Red Brick Hop Lanta plus Sweetwater Blue and India Pale Ale.
On tap at Orlando’s House Of Beer, eager fruit-caked holiday ale sprinkles sweet seasonal spices across candi-sugared Belgian Abbey yeast and creamy caramel malts. Orange-bruised cherry puree tartness picks up ancillary rum raisin, sugarplum and fig illusions to elevate cinnamon-toasted nutmeg, gingerbread and allspice pleasantries. On tap at Growler & Gill (2020), candi-sugared dried fruiting and lacy Christmas-spiced brown chocolate sweetness engage date nut bread, raisin puree, stewed prune and black cherry illusions. On tap at Seven Lakes Station (2023), fruitcake pleasantry given medicinal candied cherry boozing, red grape sweetness and wintry sugar spicing.
On tap at Orlando’s House Of Beer, exotic light body never lives up to zesty citric-soured expectations. Delicate mandarin ‘yuzu’ fruiting fails at providing sufficient lemony grapefruit-like tartness for highly acidic lactobacillus influence of German-styled Berliner weiss. Stylistic salty coriander adjunct fades to oblivion against pale wheat malt setting, overtaken by lightly sulfuric brettanomyces souring.
On tap at Orlando’s House Of Beer, fine dry-hopped moderation regales zesty citric affluence with parched bark acridity and light herbal spicing. Raspy yellow grapefruit bittering overrides ancillary mandarin orange, pineapple, mango, guava and passion fruit tartness for sublime sweet ‘n sour scheme.
On tap at Orlando’s House Of Beer, delicate eggshell-creamed Extra Special Bitter provides dewy earthiness, silken minerality and reedy-hopped herbage for soft nitro-like setting. Glass-sugared red apple glaze fades into the ether alongside wispy floral bouquet.
Richly robust mocha porter delivers dark-roasted malts to aggressive hop-charred bittering. Creamy black chocolate frontage enhances vanilla-beaned coffee bittering. Tar-like molasses gunk deepens ancillary dark cocoa, burnt walnut and piney citrus acridity.
