The Loop, Vol. I: Arbor Brewing Company

The cozy taproom at ABC, complete with
a ceiling of mug club ceramics.  

When friends or family make plans to come up and visit me—which has been happening more frequently as they start realizing they need to get up here before it’s too late and I’m no longer living in the world of the living but instead in the frozen hellscape that is certain to be mid-Michigan in the winter—I no longer have to stress about where to take them, or what to do with them.

Because isn’t that the worst part about playing “host”? Trying to figure out how to show visitors a good time has always been a profound source of anxiety for me. If you just try to wing it, you may end up, like me, floundering in your attempts to impress people with the mundane attractions of suburbia. It’s possible that this floundering could lead to a not-so-stimulating evening of hanging out at your apartment, eating Jet’s Pizza, and taking selfies with your pets. Not that I would know.

But the point is that I no longer have to worry about any of this, because I have discovered the foolproof way to show my guests a good time. I’m calling it, “The Ann Arbor Brewery Loop.” I guess it sort of goes without saying this is only a foolproof plan for people who like drinking beer, but it's also equally important to note that your old college drinking buddies who still hold a case-race with Natty or Busch every other weekend might be disappointed in your selection of locales.

Brewing tanks at ABC

Within a four-block stretch between E. Washington and S. Main streets in downtown Ann Arbor, you can hit three excellent brewpubs on foot, and without entirely breaking the bank. Each one puts its own unique stamp on the experience, whether it’s Arbor Brewing Company’s fantastic beer selection, Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales’ gussied-up bar food and intriguing sour ales, or Blue Tractor’s down-home BBQ. 

Let’s start from the beginning: Arbor Brewing Company (ABC)’s brewpub on E. Washington (they also have a location, their microbrewery, down the road in Ypsilanti). The Ann Arbor brewpub is right across from the 4^th and Washington parking structure, so you can almost roll straight out of your car and up to the bar, which is exactly what I did. The structure operates 24 hours a day—save for Sundays, which are free—and charges $1.20 hourly. I’ve gone on a Sunday twice, and the free parking is obviously ideal. Pretty much everything is still open on Sundays, so you won’t have to worry about missing out on any sights in order to save a few bucks.

Draft list at ABC as of Oct. 4.

Out of the three, ABC has the best beers, in my opinion. Their selection had been pared down a bit since the last time I’d been there, but they still had seven brews on tap, plus their seasonal cider. I started with my ABC go-to, the Ypsi Gypsi. An American pale ale turned session-style IPA, Ypsi Gypsi is the perfect sippable beer for hops lovers. It’s one of several that the brewpub bottles regularly—and at $9.99, I find it to be a pretty reasonably priced six-pack.

It was my companion’s first trip to Ann Arbor—and to Michigan as a whole—so she went with a mix and match flight in order to better sample their sudsy wares. She, unlike me, is not overly enthusiastic about bitter, hoppy beers, so she selected the Bollywood Blonde (a spiced blonde ale), Phat Abbot Ale (a Belgian tripel), Jackhammer (an ‘old ale’), and Violin Monster (a super dark autumn ale).

Flight from near to far: Bollywood Blonde,
Violin Monster, Jackhammer, Phat Abbott

The Violin Monster was the only one that we both found a bit underwhelming. It’s extremely dark and full-bodied, but was a bit too thick and syrupy on the back of my palate. The flavor was nice and warm, with competing notes of brown sugar and fall baking spices, but texture-wise I wasn’t too enthusiastic. Maybe it was just too early in the day for something so bold. The Jackhammer, on the other hand, filled the void left by its seasonal counterpart. Ever-so-slightly lighter in color than the Violin Monster, the Jackhammer gave me the balance I’d been missing from a full-bodied seasonal ale. It was rich and malty, yeah, but the dry finish kept at bay that sticky-sweet sensation of having recently eaten too much hard candy. I was immediately craving a steak.

Halfway through our pierogis.
It was definitely a team effort.

We weren’t planning to have a full meal at any of our three stops; instead, we picked one appetizer or small plate at each place that we thought would best capture its unique vibes. At ABC, we went with the fried potato and cheese pierogi appetizer. The menu boasted the popularity of the dish, so we figured we couldn’t go wrong, and we were right. These were great and really homey—light and crispy, and with something sweet in the filling to balance out that savory potato, cheddar, and crumbled bacon topping.  

You know it’s a great start to the day when you have a belly full of beer and fried pierogis before 1 p.m. Prosit! 

Check back this weekend, when I'll recap the other two breweries on the Loop: Jolly Pumpkin and Blue Tractor. In the meantime, head over to ABC--in Ann Arbor or Ypsi--cozy up to the bar, get yourself a pint of Jackhammer and an order of pierogis, and savor whatever’s left of this fall weather. I promise you'll find that ABC is good to the very last drop.

Brewery Becker, Brighton, MI

It’s pretty obvious that there’s a general vibe, in the craft beer community, of resentment toward “big box” brewers. But if you’ve seen any Sam Adams or Budweiser commercials lately, you may have noticed that their current marketing campaigns certainly speak, albeit in vastly different ways, to the increasing popularity of microbreweries and the resulting tension between “commercial” and “craft.” 

Sam Adams interestingly tries to downplay its reach within the industry, highlighting the fact that their beers, too, are “independent” and “creative.” Budweiser has been reacting to the craft beer phenomenon in a slightly different way—by taking a shot at its competition and the nerdy hipsters who are clearly the only ones not merely enjoying, but “fussing over” “pumpkin, peach ales” (is this even a thing? If so, I need to try it immediately). They declare themselves proud of their “macro”-brew status, and suggest that people drink their beers because they, well, like to drink beer, not “dissect” it. Have I used enough scare quotes to show my feelings on this?

Despite this ongoing tension between commercial and craft, there are still the titans within our beloved smaller industry who move their fair amount of product and whose brands are pretty well-known across the country. I’m thinking here of breweries like Dogfish Head (DE), Lagunitas (CA) Deschutes (OR).

But there’s this whole swath of still-smaller breweries that are a couple rungs down the ladder in terms of output and sales—places that may not be bottling their own brews, or may be bottling and selling direct from one or two local sites. I worked at one such place during my undergrad years, The BrewErie at Union Station (Erie, PA), and I’ve found another in my new hometown of Brighton, MI, called Brewery Becker.

This place is truly a hidden gem. It certainly can’t be easy trying to make it as a smaller brewer in Michigan, AKA beer country USA. Two of the top six craft brewers in the country, according to The Daily Meal, are located in western Michigan: Founders (Grand Rapids) and Bell’s (Kalamazoo). But Brewery Becker delivers at every level of the brewpub experience, from atmosphere to the suds themselves.

Located at the end of Main St. in downtown Brighton, Brewery Becker occupies a renovated, late 19^th century building, formerly known as the Western House, that still features much of its original interior, including an elaborate, show-stopping wrought iron staircase that leads to the upstairs rooms, which I'm assuming are used for private parties. The old world charm of the main taproom gives one the sense of a hunting lodge, an aura that's completed by a smattering of Viking-style drinking horns that are part of Brewery Becker’s horn club, a unique take on a traditional mug club (which they also have).

The beer selection is decidedly European, featuring their popular Vargdricka, a Scandinavian farmhouse ale, and my two favorites, their Dunkelweizen and Barrel Aged Tripel. I’ve always felt sort of ashamed for rarely enjoying beers ending in “weizen,” completely contradictory to what my German heritage demands, but this Dunkelweizen was delicious. Perfectly balanced notes of the banana and baking spices you would expect, with mellow undertones of warm, caramelly sweetness. It’s light and smooth, but has enough substance and subtle complexities to hold your interest, and without the sugary sweet bubblegum flavor of some Hefeweizens. The Barrel Aged Tripel, which packs a little more punch than the Dunkel alcohol-wise, is fantastic. It’s aged in bourbon barrels and is perfectly oaky, and even slightly sweeter than the Dunkel thanks to that bourbon. The notes of bourbon and vanilla are easy to pick out, and add depth to the already-enticing flavor profile of the classic Belgian-style tripel. 

I also have to mention the Bean Soup! And no, that wasn't the soup du jour, it was a surprisingly savory amber ale. When I say savory, I mean that I took a sip and immediately got a strong punch of oregano on the nose (Literally. A sprig of oregano popped out of the glass and drilled me). I wasn't sure how I felt about it at first, but I kept drinking until it was gone, so that must mean something. Way too unique not to bring up--definitely worth trying!

Even though the place maintains its old world charm, there are a couple contemporary touches that really take the environment to the next level: 1) complimentary popcorn AND popcorn seasonings, including white cheddar and ranch (I mean they don’t even give you seasonings for free at the movie theater when you’re paying $10 for a small bag of the stuff, so I totally indulged here) and 2) a really nice shuffleboard table. There’s only one of them, so I’m not sure how easy or hard it is to take a turn on a busy night. When I went with my parents, who were visiting for the weekend, and my boyfriend, it was pretty full and we still managed to play a couple games while enjoying our beers and popcorn.

Last clutch feature? The beergarden, or, if you’re at Brewery Becker, the Biere Garden. It’s massive and beautifully kept, abutting the railroad tracks that cut through Main St., and they’ve strategically placed heating lamps among the tables—I’m hoping this means it’ll be open well into the fall season, because we’ll definitely be back. After all, it’s almost time for Oktoberfest!

Final verdict: Brewery Becker is beyond good to the last drop. 

HopCat Ann Arbor

It's not Labor Day weekend without burgers and beer. We just chose to venture out and try some of the local stuff rather than stay at home. 

Ann Arbor is not a town I ever imagined I would fall in love with--born and raised in northeast Ohio, I'm obligated to say I'm from Buckeye territory, and proud of it. Honestly, it does soothe the pain of being a Cleveland sports fan ever so slightly.

It was bad enough when I had to tell people about my  plans to start grad school at Michigan State this fall--"Well, I guess as long as it's not the OTHER one..." has been a common response from family and friends who bleed scarlet and grey. Honestly, though, it only took me one trip to get hooked on this forbidden city.

The Big House--U of M's massive football stadium--was cool to see, but was by no means the main event. Aside from the authentic used book stores and the glamorous Michigan Theatre, I was sold on the town after walking less than three blocks and passing not one, not two, but three craft brewpubs: Arbor Brewing Company (corresponding brewery located down the road in Ypsilanti), Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales (they do some really killer sour ales...more on this in a later post), and Blue Tractor BBQ and Brewery (housemade BBQ sauces make that a worthwhile trip). I've since been to all three, and plan to tackle each one in later posts because each was fantastic and deserves full word counts of their own.

 But today it's all about HopCat.

My guy and I had planned to walk around the city for a while before making any hasty decisions, but as soon as we walked out of the parking garage, I saw the glow of a neon sign screaming at me from across the street: 100 TAPS. There was no way for us to pass it up--if nothing else we wanted to check out the selection and grab a quick beer. Nestled between the high-rise parking garage (which was surprisingly empty for a holiday weekend) and hectic intersection of Maynard and East Liberty, it would have been easy to bypass the humble brick facade in search of swankier destinations.

With the intention of just grabbing a beer (or two) and moving on to one of said swankier destinations for dinner, we grabbed a high-top near the bar. The ambience was great--the tables are Mod Podge-collaged with old covers of Rolling Stone, and the bar stools aren't actually stools but instead high-backed retro chairs that could've been taken from any 70s movie set. The vintage vibes were comfortable and easy to settle into, and combined with the numerous eclectic murals splashed across the walls, I felt like I had walked into a modern day speakeasy.

100 taps looks like 100 taps, at least at HopCat, and that's a beautiful sight: four sections of 25 taps shoots down the center of the sizable bar two by two, and I can't help but wonder how long it takes the bartenders to get their bearings before the seasonals are switched out. 

The beer list itself was overwhelming, at first, but when is that ever a bad thing? Not only do they have all 100 draft options laid out in variously helpful categories (including the one that caught my eye, "The Local 30"), they also have a pretty extensive bottle list. I simplified my search and went straight to the reasonably-priced local stuff in search of something light and hoppy. Beer number one for me was Ypsi Gypsi, an American Pale ale from Arbor Brewing Co. (ABC), aptly named for its cross-town origins. 

It didn't disappoint--it's really more of a session IPA than a traditional APA, which was fine by me. Super crisp and super drinkable, with springy notes of citrus all the way through, I couldn't put it down. Even with the lower ABV at 5.5%, though, I realized I'd need some actual food if I wanted to sample any more of these local suds. My comrade got the first one on the list, a Traverse City pilsner called The Rambler, and thoroughly enjoyed that selection. 

Debating the relative merits of Buffalo Rolls, Pretzel Nuggs, and Crack Fries, we flipped to the back side of the menu in frustration and were confronted with yet another option... The burgers. Oh, the burgers. The question was no longer, "Where are we going to go for dinner after we finish our beers?" but became instead, "Which burger you gonna get?"

The decision between something simple and classic and something that couldn't possibly fit into a normal person's mouth (without the tearing of any number of soft palate tissues) was a tough one. On the one hand, there was the Barnyard, with real Wisconsin cheese curds, egg salad, ham, and bacon (because meat), all piled on Texas toast. I mean, really. And on the other hand was HopCat's signature burger, the decidedly more understated BarZee. Bacon, jalapenos, and bar cheese topped with LTO. I thought of my arteries with a pang of guilt and went with the marginally less meaty BarZee. 

The burger was tasty: a nicely cooked patty (that we both wished we'd been able to order medium rare instead of just medium--maybe we should've asked. Next time!) topped with two thick slabs of meaty bacon. It was, if kind of difficult to eat, a very good burger. But the side of their signature Crack Fries was the component that took the plate to the next level. This place serves up some serious house-made fries: beer battered to perfection and sprinkled with fresh cracked pepper that made for a perfectly rustic flavor profile. The beer batter was crispy, but not too thick--the ratio of golden batter on the outside to velvety, fleshy white potato on the inside was pretty spot-on.

Did I mention they do a poutine with these same glorious fries? And they named it "Vladimir Poutine"? This is political stuff. We didn't try it, but there will be a next time. THERE MUST BE.

Anyway. We thought about grabbing dessert elsewhere--maybe some fro-yo or a baked good from Sweetwater Cafe--but then figured a second beer at HopCat was the more prudent decision. We were already there, after all.

I was already feeling like I'd need to be rolled out of there, so I opted for something that would satisfy my sweet tooth without pushing me into a complete and total food/beverage coma. Enter The Bean Flicker, a coffee blonde from Odd Side Ales in Grand Haven, MI (the same brewery that does a barrel-aged pineapple IPA...need I say more?). At only 4.5% ABV, it was unassumingly decadent, with rich undertones of coffee that led to a smooth finish and light notes of vanilla opened up by the tulip glass. It was the perfect finale to our meal.

I should also mention that HopCat boasts an eco-friendly environment and promotes sustainability with their self-proclaimed "innovative waste reduction program" in their composting and recycling of nearly 90% of their food and paper waste. Three cheers for sustainability!

Last note before the final verdict... HopCat recently completed a deal of $25 million that will see 30 new locations opened up across the Midwest, in places like Lexington and Louisville. So, is this good news for foodies and beer connoisseurs in the region?

Yeah, HopCat is absolutely good to the last drop.