If you swing a cat in Manhattan,
you will hit a bar. There are that many of them here. Near us there are sports
bars (Blondie’s), family bars (Fred’s), bistro bars (Hi Life), dive bars (Dive
Bar) and, as always, Irish bars (Dead Poet, St. James Gate, McAleer’s). We have
come a long way from when Benjamin Franklin went to London to work in a
printery, commenting that:
We had
an alehouse boy who attended always in the house to supply the workmen. My
companion at the Press, drank every day a pint before breakfast; a pint at
breakfast with his bread and cheese; a pint between breakfast and dinner; a
pint at dinner; a pint in the afternoon about six o’clock, and another when he
had done his day’s work. I thought it a detestable custom.
Sounds about right. Since
then the water has improved in London and perhaps Americans have learned to
enjoy beer a little more, notwithstanding hiccups along the way (Prohibition
Era as you might remember). Although everywhere has a happy hour and there are
some very good deals, drinking in my neighbourhood is expensive. Once you add
in tips and settling in, it can often add up in a way that I find hard to
justify on a writer’s budget. But, one has to have a drink, so what should it
be?
Of course, that depends
on what has happened during the day and on the weather to a large extent. In
terms of work, it runs soft to hard depending on the number of rejections I
have been sent or the time spent with philosophy or if you read something that
drove you to liquor in the first place. In terms of weather, this time of year,
we have been drinking more hot toddies than usual, spiking our local apple
cider with whiskey and spices, and we have put down quite a few bottles of
cheap shiraz as we dine at home. Nevertheless, I still like a nice cold beer,
maybe after walking home from the office as I hear about K’s day and the
progress of her novel. For me, it is a toss up between three brands that I buy
from the pharmacy, or what Americans call ‘drug store’, on the route home. For
$2.19 you can get a tallboy can of Rolling Rock, Pabst Blue Ribbon and Coors
Banquet.
It goes without saying
that these are ‘entry level’ beers when judged by price, and when I caught up
with an old friend R the other night, he said he had not drunk Rolling Rock
since high school. Pabst Blue Ribbon has been enjoying a global renaissance
amongst hipsters, and in Australia, one can find it there in the newly minted
Southern restaurants alongside buttermilk fried chicken. As for Coors Banquet,
I have no reference. I only thought that Coors was not a beer for me given that
it advertised itself to mainstream tastes. I knew the brand alongside that of
Budweiser, Sam Adams and Natty Light. But the Banquet on the other hand, seemed
like a variety I could drink. And it was the right price.
As you may have guessed
from our beer choice, we are retrofitting our well to do neighbourhood with a
certain spirit of bohemia. We drink beers with beans and rice at home, or a
bowl of crisps, or even roasted veggies sometimes. At this point in time, it might
be worth pointing out that these beers are not as cheap as one can go. You can,
of course, buy ‘40s’ of malt liquor that have names such as Colt 45, Black Fist
and Country Club. But the world of malt liquor is another world entirely. At the other end of the spectrum might
be the blossoming new craft beers from small breweries, hoppy numbers, malty
draughts, molassesy vials. That is where the beer market has grown in recent
years, and there is no shortage of that close to us. Mine is the world of beer from the pharmacy.
For everyday drinking, I like Rolling Rock the most. It is crisp and even, always refreshing
when served cold, it is easy lager that is not overproduced, presumptuous or
pontificating. It settles in the mouth but comes out clear and friendly, a
flavour that simply says ‘beer’. If one wanted to one could jazz it up with
lemon, turn it into something resembling a fiesta. Or, one could pair it with a
pot pie to thicken it up, and echo an ale from a heartier time. In any case, it
is admirably dextrous and fun to boot. I for one, always stop myself, at just a few.
Duane Reade, 2409 Broadway, New York, NY 10024
Open 24 hours.
Subway: 1 at 86th St.
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