OMG, it's only the 2nd night!

   For as much as I"ve previously claimed this week in Cleveland history to be "unforgettable," it is quickly turning out to be, in fact, quite the opposite. Thank god for things like interwebs that can retain the memories that I would otherwise drink away. Also, thank god for friends who somehow have amazing recollections of the nights you might otherwise forget. (Actually, no. Damn them and their great black-mailing memories. Something of which I have never been blessed with to "return the favor.")
   Take E for example, he acted like human ridge-filler for the potholes in my memory of Saturday night. Which can potentially be a great thing, considering I want to retain as many details of this week as possible (mostly because I still fear the downfall of Cleveland's economy if in fact Lebron decides to take New York up on their offer, which could ultimately turn this "first annual" event into a "one time" event.) The problem, though, is not with remembering the details of beer week. Those I remember VERY clearly. Like last night's signature event; a Brown Goose Keg Tapping at Southside   in Tremont. Ever since the first time E took me to this cute little eclectic bistro, I fell in love with it. It's a little culinary gem on the West side, with unique dishes and rare brews; a perfect place to feature such an exceptional beer from Goose Island. From Butternut Squash Lasagna to spicy fried chicken served on on maple Belgium waffles, everyone can find something unusual to nosh on over a glass of vino or a pint. Keep in mind, though, that the food is only as good as the company you keep, and going with open-minded and adventurous people is key to really enjoying this place since the fare is not for the faint of taste buds. E and I really lucked out because we were able to join up with a great group of people who were easy-going and who kept the conversation flowing as steadily as the drinks. Everyone tried something different; one couple got appetizers of calamari and a dinner of slow-braised lamb shanks with caramelized onions and mashed potatoes; another got a spinach cobb salad with grilled onions, chicken breast, egg, cheese and applewood-smoked bacon as well as a kobe burger (kobe beef being a special grade of beef from the Wagyu cattle in Kobe, Japan. These cattle are massaged with sake and fed a daily diet that includes large amounts of beer. These practices are produce an extraordinarily tender, finely marbled, expensive and full-flavored meat.); Mr. and Mrs. Detail-oriented were with us and they ordered chicken enchiladas (by far the BEST I've ever had. By far.) and the fried chicken and waffles. E and I got a steak burger, bison and black bean chili, and a duck and goat cheese salad with a warm balsamic dressing and sauteed onions, respectively.
   As far as libations went, most of the ladies had wine, with the exception of myself and one other girl (the first and only girl I've met who ALSO likes Guinness) who got beer. I'm pretty sure all of the guys got beer, but I'm only positive of what E and I got: the Imperial Brown Goose Ale by Goose Island. This limited edition old-style ale was absolutely delicious with notes of vanilla, wood, bourbon, and raisin. If I had to compare it to anything I'd say it tasted and smelled like cinnamon-raisin bread made using brand-soaked raisins. It was smooth a thick as it went down and I plan to Beer Spy it and stock up as soon as my next paycheck comes in (screw bills, I can live without water and electricity, but beer? nuh uh.). As E stuck with the Brown Goose, I ventured off to try some Brooklyn Pumpkin Ale, which was pretty good for a pumpkin beer; not too spice-y, not to pumpkin-y, and not so sweet that I felt like I was drinking a Thanksgiving pie. Actually it made for quite an awesome liquid dessert. Maybe a case of it will be my contribution to the holiday this year, considering my Grammy is a culinary goddess who puts Paula Dean to shame making sure every open surface in the house is covered in casseroles, pies, cookies, turkeys (yes plural), and maybe one or two veggies.
   Then came our misadventures to the Velvet Tango Room, (also known as VTR, and only home of my favorite cocktail, the Ramos Gin Fizz), the Speakeasy, and finally McNulties Beir Markt, which ultimately landed us at Bar Cento by default. And when I say "by default" I don't mean to hint that it was a disappointment. NOT AT ALL. Even despite a limited beer list due to the Beir Markt being closed, I was able to share a Cantillon Rose with E and scored an awesome Grimbergen Dubbel. The Cantillon was absolutely amazing; a transparent magenta raspberry lambic with an adorable pink head.(The color alone forces me to think of how cute this would be for a Valentines dinner ~