Another of my little YouTube videos, this time about Oatmeal Stout. Well. Oat Malt Stout, too.
I rise at 8:05. Not sure why. The kids aren't due to come here until 10.
I do my usual writing thing. The kids still aren't here at 11. Where the fuck are they? They eventually turn up at 11:20.
"Are we going to the diner now?" Alexei asks.
"It's far too late for that." I answer.
He looks quite disappointed. It’s his own fault for getting up too late. Unless he was just waiting for Andrew. We had planned a diner breakfast. Which is always a good way to start the day. But I wouldn’t want to have to rush it.
Instead, we go to the A&W next the light rail stop. Me and Alexei both get bacon, egg and cheese muffins. Along with coffee and, for Alexei, a chocolate croissant. Andrew doesn't have anything. What a shock.
The place was deserted when we entered. After a few minutes, it's become packed. I guess because it's after midday and this is the lunch trade. Our food is fine, if a little light.
The light rail gets us to Ottawa station in about 10 minutes. It's a very new, rather bland affair. But very functional. Very functional. Though it wouldn’t win any beauty prizes.
Me and Alexei get ourselves sandwiches. Then we go and sit in the lounge. Which is nice and relaxing. I get myself a café latte. I can do with some more waking up.
It's only a two-hour ride to Montreal. Nothing too strenuous. I get a gin and tonic again. While Andrew sticks with Steam Whistle Pilsner. For which he has to show ID. It’s his fault for shaving this morning. He has such a baby face when he’s beard-free. Alexei has a soft drink.
It's very flat outside. And very wet. Mostly farmland, punctuated by the occasional small town. And there are trees. Lots and lots of trees. A surprising number of them bare and dead.
“What do you think of the countryside, Alexei?”
“It’s a bit empty. Lots of trees, though.”
“And lots of maize. Potatoes, too, I think. Maybe some cabbages. Or kale.”
“Fascinating conversation, Dad.” Andrew chips in.
“Thank you.”
“You’re really not very good at spotting sarcasm, are you, Dad?”
“Piss off.”
“Always ready with a witty riposte, eh, Dad?”
“Fuck off.”
“Just proving my point.”
Despite hanging around just outside the station for 10 minutes, we arrive just about exactly on time.
It’s not the prettiest of stations. And seems to be just the basement of an office block. A bit cramped, is how I would describe it. And busy.
The metro station at Montreal Gare Centrale is amazingly poorly placed. And hard to find. It's out of the station, across a busy road and hidden inside an office building. With no sign on the outside. Without directions, you'd never find the fucker.
Our hotel is further from the nearest metro stop than I would have liked. And all uphill. I'm knacked by the time we get there.
Once checked in, the kids nip out to the shop for supplies. Beer mostly. And cola.
“Can you get me some milk?” I ask.
“For your disgusting cocktail?” Alexei replies.
“Not all of it. I drink some of it straight.”
“To wash down all of your pills.”
“Partly. It’s not my fault I’m old.”
“Why do you mix your whisky with milk?”
“Because it’s easier on my stomach.”
“But it looks disgusting.”
“Tastes delicious.”
“I doubt it.”
Our evening destination is BreWskey Pub. Which is in Old Montreal. Back towards the metro station. Except this way it's all downhill. Or at least most of it. I try not to think about the return journey.
We walk past the town hall. It's pretty impressive, in grey stone. As are most of the buildings behind it in Old Montreal. It looks just like France. BreWskey is part of the very imposing Marché Bonsecours. A massive neoclassical pile.
Is this a brewpub? I’m not quite sure. They do seem to all their own beers. But where are they brewed? Is it here or another location? I’m none the wiser after looking at their website.
It's in a basement and has no windows. Which could be a bit claustrophobic. The range of beers is pretty decent. Seventeen draughts in all, with a Witbier, Kellerbier, Red Ale, Catharina Sour, Irish Stout and, of course, IPA. There are seven of those.
I get Exo, a sludge IPA. They seem to be the only type you can get in Canada. The kids go for Lagers. As they usually do.
It's not full. Only about half the tables are occupied. But it is a rainy Tuesday. A very rainy Tuesday.
We order some onion rings and cod cakes. Both are pretty good. The cod cakes are similar to Thai fishcakes, but without the chili.
Andrew notices that Roi du Frigo is listed as a TIPA.
"What's a TIPA, Dad?" Andrew asks.
“A Triple IPA. Like an IPA, but really strong.”
“I’m surprised that’s not what you’re drinking.”
“Why?”
“You always go for strong beers. Usually the strongest.”
“That’s not always true.”
“Really? Really?”
Just to prove Andrew wrong, I finish with a Roi du Frigo. A sludge Triple IPA. Which is a shame. Andrew gets one, too. I'm guessing because of the strength. The fucking hypocrite.
We don't stay out too late. It's pissing it down when we leave. Not to worry, we're getting an Uber. No way I'm walking up that hill again.
Back in the room, the kids drink some beer and I polish off the Reifel Rye.
Sleep isn't hard to find. It's there, lurking just under the sheets.
BreWskey Pub
380 Rue Saint-Paul E,
Montréal, QC H2Y 1H2
https://www.brewskey.ca/pub/
I rise at 8:40. Have a shave and start writing. As I do every morning. If I don't write things up the next day, I get all confused and forget stuff. That's what us oldie people are like. Minds like sieves.
Alexei turns up at about 10.
"Is Andrew up yet?" I ask. Expecting the answer no.
“Yes. But he isn't feeling well. He has trouble with his stomach.”
Andrew turns up 10 minutes later, looking very pale. Well, even paler than usual. We decide to drop by the chemist opposite to get him a sports drink. Not sure why.
"Parlez-vous Francais?" A customer asks an assistant.
"No." Is the curt reply.
I thought it was the Frech speakers who were funny about speaking English?
“There’s a washroom in the Mall.” The assistant keeps saying. In English. It’s a bizarre interaction.
We get an Uber to the Elgin Street Diner. For breakfast, obviously. It's another classic diner. One that never closes. Literally.
I order the blue-plate breakfast. It's enormous. With about a kilo of poutine. I feel like Beard meats food.
"I've never seen poutine on a breakfast before." I remark.
Alexei has a normal-sized breakfast. And a milk shake. Andrew just has toast. Now there’s a surprise.
"Would you live in Canada, Dad?" Alexei asks.
“Only in Vancouver. It gets far too fucking cold everywhere else.”
I eat all the meat and eggs on my breakfast. But there's no way I'm getting through all that poutine. I pass my plate to Alexei. Who polishes it off.
Andrew suggests we go for a beer in an English-style pub he noticed on our way down. Sounds fine by me. I spotted it, too.
It turns out Andrew had seen a different place to me. The Sir John A. Looking at the menu outside, I see that it has quite a range of beer. 26 beers described as craft, plus 8 domestic and 14 international. Not bad for somewhere that isn’t billing itself as a specialist beer bar.
It has a reasonably pubby feel. With a long bar running almost the whole length of one wall. I suppose they need plenty of room for all those beer taps.
I kick off with a Bicycle Velocipide IPA. Which is a bit sludgy. Andrew has a Lager. And Alexei, a diet cola. As he's feeling rather stuffed. I’m not surprised after all that poutine.
We have a couple of rounds. With me switching to Muskoka Mad Tom IPA, a West Coast style IPA. Which is more my style.
“Let's continue on to the pub I spotted. I think it was called the Lord Clyde.”
Andrew looks for it on his phone and can't find it. I suggest he just looks on a map.
“There, that's it." I say, pointing to a pub.
“It's not called the Lord Clyde. It's Deacon Brodies.”
“I knew it was something Scottish.”
“Completely different from what you said, though.”
“But something Scottish.”
“You really are going senile, Dad.”
It is, indeed, very Scottish. There's tartan everywhere and the barmaid is wearing a kilt. You can’t get much more Scottish than that. There’s a fairly short bar counter, with a bar back crammed with bottles of various whiskies. They’re really running with the Scottish theme.
They only have a dozen craft draughts here. I get Dominion City Sunsplit NEIPA. Another sludge IPA. Andrew has a house Lager.
"Is that diacetyl." He asks.
I try his beer. "Yep. That's diacetyl. Well spotted." I’ve taught him well.
We order some breaded prawns to share. Which are pretty nice.
I get a shot of Glenfiddich 14 year Bourbon Cask, this week’s single malt special. It’s full of alcoholly goodness.
“On the whisky again, eh, Dad.” Alexei remarks.
“I’ve had enough sludge beer for the day. All that crap isn’t good for my stomach.”
“Unlike whisky, eh?”
“I am on holiday.”
“That’s your excuse for everything.”
“A reason, not an excuse.”
“It’s always a reason with you, isn’t it, Dad?”
“I’m glad you understand.”
“I was taking the piss.”
On the way back we nip into an LCBO and pick up a bottle of Reifel Rye and a few cans of a Trailer Park Boys themed alcopop.
After a short rest in our hotel, we walk up to have a look at the parliament buildings. Which are impressive in a gothic way.
"It's all very Hogwarts." I remark.
"Very true." Alexei replies.
We jump in an Uber to take us to Tooth and Nail, a brewpub a little out of town. Located in a rather residential area. Where we're meeting Philip Kochanke, brewer at Braumeister Brewing.
Phil is there to greet us on entry and we grab a table on the patio. I start off with Fortitude, a 5.4% ABV Stout. The kids opt for Vim & Vigour, a Pilsner.
The evening rushes by as we chat, drink and snack a little. I switch to Rabble Rouser, a West Coast style IPA. A type which seems to be a rarity in Canada, with most IPAs being of the sludge variety.
On a trip to the bogs, one of the owners grabs hold of me and gives me a little impromptu tour of the brewery. Which is pretty compact.
Back in the hotel, I try out the Reifel Rye. Purely for medicinal purposes. It puts me to sleep a treat.
Elgin Street Diner
374 Elgin St,
Ottawa, ON K2P 1N1.
http://www.elginstreetdiner.com/
Sir John A Pub
284 Elgin St,
Ottawa, ON K2P 1M3
https://www.sirjohna.ca/
Deacon Brodies Pub
247 Elgin St,
Ottawa, ON K2P 0G1
https://www.deaconbrodies.ca/
Tooth and Nail Brewing Company
3 Irving Ave,
Ottawa, ON K1Y 1Z9.
https://toothandnailbeer.com/
| 1832 Barclay Perkins TT | ||
| pale malt | 11.25 lb | 83.33% |
| brown malt | 2.00 lb | 14.81% |
| black malt | 0.25 lb | 1.85% |
| Goldings 120 mins | 1.50 oz | |
| Goldings 90 mins | 1.50 oz | |
| Goldings 30 mins | 1.50 oz | |
| Goldings dry hops | 0.50 oz | |
| OG | 1057 | |
| FG | 1016.5 | |
| ABV | 5.36 | |
| Apparent attenuation | 71.05% | |
| IBU | 58 | |
| SRM | 19 | |
| Mash at | 152º F | |
| Sparge at | 178º F | |
| Boil time | 120 minutes | |
| pitching temp | 68º F | |
| Yeast | Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale | |
I rise at 8:25 like the good boy that I am. And do some more of my writing thing.
We do our best to finish off the drinks we have left. A bit of a bottle of wine and a can of Boneshaker IPA. We just about manage before 11, when we check out.
Our train isn't until 14:23. What to do until then?
"What about having a coffee here?" I say, pointing at Dark Horse.
"OK." The kids agree. That was easy.
I grab some seats while the kids queue up to order. Cafe latte for me, iced coffee for Alexei, can of Bellwoods Isar Pilsner for Andrew. They also sell bottles of wine.
"It must be easy to get a licence here." I remark.
“Civilised, I call it.” Andrew says.
“You’re not wrong there.” I reply.
After a while of hanging around, we get an Uber to the station. It's still 2 hours before our train. But, as we have business-class tickets, we can wait in the lounge.
It's quite grand, as is the rest of the building. Along with the comfy seats, there's free coffee and soft drinks. And apples. It's a relaxing place to wait. And it has nice bogs.
Our carriage is right at the front of the train. Our seats are around a table in almost a little compartment.
While we're still making our way through the Toronto suburbs, the steward comes around with bags of nuts and drinks. I get a gin and tonic, the kids cans of Steam Whistle beer.
"This is very civilised." I say, sipping on my drink. It really is.
The train has WIFI and Alexei finds somewhere that's streaming the World Cup final. It lags badly, freezing every couple of seconds. Alexei tries a few other sites, but none of them are any better. I'm following the game on the Guardian website.
“It doesn't look like we're missing much." I remark. "I predict Spain win with a scrawpy goal in the 85th minute.”
"I don't care as long as Argentina lose." Andrew hasn't forgiven them for the semi-final against England.
The train is chuntering along at a decent whack: mostly over 100 kph, sometimes as high as 150 kph.
"That's about the same as in Holland." Andrew says.
"Yes, but Holland's a much smaller country." I reply.
The game is taking forever, what with the stupid "hydration" (advertising) breaks and the ludicrous half-time show.
"I hope they drop all this bollocks at the next World Cup." I say bitterly.
"Not much chance of that, Dad." Alexei opines pessimistically.
“You’re probably right. If anything, it’s likely to get worse.”
It's announced that we're running 20 minutes late. Oh well. We don't have any plans for the evening.
The steward brings around our meals, which come with a glass of wine. And afterwards there are more drinks: whisky for me, Steam Whistle again for the kids. Amazingly, Andrew eats all his meal.
“I’ll note this down in my diary:’ Andrew ate a whole meal.’” I quip.
“Very funny, Dad. And you don’t have a diary.” Andrew responds.
“My blog is a sort of diary.”
“A very untruthful one, from what I’ve read.”
“True in spirit.”
“But not in actual facts,”
“It’s all a matter of interpretation.”
“And making stuff up.”
“Being flexible in my reporting.”
“Making stuff up.”
“That’s what creative writing is all about.”
“But isn’t your blog supposed to be non-fiction?”
“Not the travel reports.”
“I suppose you’ll be lying about this, too.”
“Coming up with a flexible interpretation of events.”
“Making stuff up.”
“If you insist.”
“Thank you. You’ve finally admitted your lies.”
We arrive in Ottawa 40 minutes late. Impressive for a journey that was only due to take two hours. We jump on the light rail that takes us pretty much directly to our hotel in the city centre.
We quickly check in, then go in search of refreshments. It’s Sunday and getting quite late. Lots of places aren’t open or about to close.
After some wandering around we find a convenience store that sells beer and wine. Which makes the kids happy. Andrew was worried he might have an evening without beer.
On our wandering we spotted two pubs called the Royal Oak. Both open. We go to the nearest one. Which will still be open for a few hours. It’s pretty quiet. Just a couple of people sitting at the bar.
There's quite prominent Fullers branding on the outside. And some posters inside. But no sign of any Fullers beers. Have they really stopped exporting to North America?
I get myself a Mill Street hazy IPA. While the kids go for their Organic Lager.
"Shall we order some food, Dad?" Alexei always has a healthy appetite. Unlike Andrew.
“OK, let's get some starters and sides.”
We kick off with onion rings and poutine. Which are pretty good. After the first round I switch to whisky. I've had enough of hazy IPA.
"All the IPAs seem to be sludgy here in Canada." I say forlornly.
"That's what the kids want nowadays." Andrew replies.
“They could have at least one normal IPA for oldies like me.”
"Any excuse to switch to whisky, eh, Dad." Alexei remarks cynically.
“It’s their fault for an uninspiring beer selection.”
“Not yours for being a pisshead?” Alexei asks.
“Fuck off.”
“That’s always your response when you lose an argument.”
After a couple more rounds and some quesidillas for Alexei, we wend our weary way back to the hotel. Where the kids have a couple of beers and I drink some Ontario wine.
We turn in quite late: 02:30. After arranging to meet in my room at 10:30 tomorrow.
I'm asleep in seconds.
Dark Horse Espresso Bar
416 Front St E,
Toronto, ON M5A 0H8.
https://darkhorseespresso.com/
The Royal Oak - Kent at Slater
180 Kent St,
Ottawa, ON K1P 0B6.
http://royaloakpubs.com/
Another of my little videos. In this one, I discuss my recipe for 1940 Drybrough P 60/. It's one I recently published on the blog.
I rise at 8:45. I'm such a good boy, me.
I have time to write up yesterday before the kids get up. It starts pissing it down just as Alexei rises.
"I guess that rules out visiting Niagara Falls." Alexei says.
“Correct. I don’t fancy a day of getting wet.” I reply.
“You’re always pretty wet, Dad.” Alexei quips.
“Haha, very funny.”
“At least I’m funnier than you.”
We had two options for today: visit Niagara Falls or go to a couple of museums in Toronto. The latter being our bad weather plan. Looks like we'll be implementing that.
When Andrew finally drags his sorry arse out of bed, the kids go to the supermarket for some food. Not for breakfast. For later. We have other breakfast plans.
I find what looks like a really good diner between here and our first museum stop; the Royal Ontario Museum. We jump in an Uber and get to the Golden Diner at around noon.
It’s really pissing it down. Just as well it’s only a short dash to the stairs down to the door of the diner.
It's quite a bit larger than the other two diners we've visited. With very much a retro feel. Lots of four-person booths. Though it’s a squeeze for just the three of us. It doesn’t look like it’s been remodelled in many decades. Exactly the sort of diner I like.
The menu is larger, too. We're seated in a booth with a flickering light, which is slightly disconcerting. It doesn’t make reading the menu any easier.
“What does that say?” I ask Andrew, pointing at the menu. “I didn’t bring my glasses.”
“Why on earth not? Given how blind you’re getting.”
“Don’t rub it in.”
“I’m turning into your carer. You’ll be asking me to wipe your bottom next. No wonder you invite us along on holiday. What do you do when you travel on your own?”
“I get by OK.”
“And probably remember to always take your glasses with you. Unlike when you’re with us.”
“I remember most of the time.”
“Occasionally is more accurate.”
“Fuck off.”
“Winning the argument with your dazzling wit again, eh, Dad?”
For once, we all order a breakfast. Even Andrew. The breakfasts are very competitively priced, with Andrew's only around $13 Canadian. Andrew gets himself a bottle of Molson. I ask for a gin and tonic. But they have no tonic. I just get a shot of gin and mix it with the orange juice that comes with my breakfast.
Which includes something called peameal bacon. What the fuck is that? Turns out it’s back bacon with a crust of peameal. It’s pretty tasty. Is that just an Ontario thing?
The food is pretty good. Even Andrew manages to eat most of his. Me and Alexe gobble down what he can't manage. Alexei always has a healthy appetite.
Another Uber soon has us at the Royal Ontario Museum. Which is pretty busy. We’re wearing coats on account of the rain. But they’re a bit too warm when we’re inside.
We have a limited amount of time and restrict ourselves to a couple of the rooms. Kicking off with the Chinese and Korean bits. Followed by Africa and the Pacific. Finishing with the first nations. Unfortunately, the latter is a little rushed. Which is a shame as they have some fascinating exhibits.
Yet another Uber takes us to the Toronto Railway Museum. Which is right next to the Rogers Centre where we saw the baseball yesterday.
It's quite a small museum, with most of the rolling stock exhibits outside. The rest is in part of the former roundhouse. They have a pretty good train simulator which Andrew has a go on.
Once we're done, we drop by the Steam Whistle Brewery, which is also in the roundhouse. It's much busier than yesterday.
The beer range isn’t the most extensive. I have the hazy IPA again. Which is OK, if sludgy. The kids stick with Pilsner. At least for the first round. Andrew then switches to cider. He’s quite keen on cider, as is Alexei. They usually give it a try, when it’s on draught.
They're showing the Blue Jays game, which is taking place just a couple of hundred metres away. Then suddenly it changes and England vs France for World Cup third place is on.
"I'm surprised that they switched off the baseball to show this.” I remark.
“They probably expect the Blue Jays to lose again.” Andrew chimes in.
“That’s probably true.”
England are frustratingly good in the first half. With their second team.
"Why didn't they play like this against Argentina?" Andrew asks.
“Good question.” I reply.
We leave at half time, as I'm recording the game on Ziggo. With England 4-0 up.
It takes us a while to return to our hotel, as we get caught up in the traffic leaving the baseball. We barely move 200 metres in 20 minutes. Once clear, though, we’re back in a jiffy.
Back in the hotel, we rig up my flipflop to the TV and start watching the second half. France is like a different team. Getting the score back to 4-3.
"Why didn't France play like this against Spain?" Andrew asks.
“Another good question.”
“Or in the first half, for that matter?”
“Couldn’t be arsed?”
“That’s a bit stereotypical isn’t it, Dad?”
“I just meant that it didn’t really look like that they were trying. Not that they were typical lazy Frenchies.”
“Daad.”
“What?”
“You can’t say things like that.”
“I told you: I didn’t mean that.”
“But you just said it.”
“To say that I didn’t mean it.”
“I give up.”
A flurry of goals at the end of the second half leaves the score at 6-4 to England. Easily the most entertaining game of the World Cup. And I'm sure way better than tomorrow's final will be.
Game watched, we head off to the Distillery District. Which is just around the corner. Easy to reach on foot. And home to a couple of breweries.
We start at Old Flame Brewery. Which claims to have won the most awards for Canadian craft Lager.
“That sounds just down your Strasse, Andrew.”
“It does.”
Andrew likes a good Lager. And he is, indeed, very pleased with his Helles. My Dunkles isn't quite up to the same standard, but still decent.
Which is more than can be said for some of the karaoke going on just behind us.
“Do you fancy moving on, kids?”
“Can do." Alexei says. "There's another brewpub just down the street.”
Which the Mill Street Brewery indeed is. It only takes a minute or two to get there. Even old slowcoach me.
On entering, a waitress takes us through a couple of rooms to a table towards the rear. It’s pretty full.
We order beers and think about ordering some side dishes. Which we do. Kicking off with gyozas and prawns. Both of which are excellent. So good, we order more food. Pierogis and poutine.
"That's easy to remember. They both start with the letter p." Alexi says, helpfully.
The kids order another beer. After more than five minutes, it hasn't arrived. We ask our waiter and he seems to have forgotten.
"I'll bring you free beers." He says, apologetically. Which he does.
"I really like this place." Alexei says. "If it was in Amsterdam, I'd come every day.”
Praise indeed.
“It’s a nice enough place, but I wouldn’t want to come every day. Unlike the Cardigan Arms, where I could happily spend the rest of my life.” I reply.
“So, for another couple of months?” Andrew says, cheekily.
“Fuck off, you twat. I’m good for at least another year.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, the way you’ve been coughing.” Alexei says.
He has a point. Which I prove with a bout of coughing.
“See what I mean?” Alexei exclaims triumphantly.
We don't stay out too late, leaving at around 23:00.
Back in the room, I drink some of the Canadian wine I bought earlier. and the kids get stuck into some beer. While watching “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia”.
I turn in at 00:30. I need my kip. And want to be up early for travelling. Yippee!
Golden Diner
105 Carlton St.,
Toronto, ON M5B 1M1.
https://golden-diner.com/
Steam Whistle Tap Room
255 Bremner Blvd,
Toronto, ON M5V 3M9.
https://steamwhistle.ca/
Old Flame Brewing Company
43 Tank House Lane,
Toronto, ON M5A 3C4.
https://oldflamebrewingco.ca/pages/contact-us
Mill Street Brewpub Distillery District Toronto
21 Tank House Lane,
Toronto, ON M5A 3C4.
https://millstreetbrewery.com/en/pubs/toronto-brewpub
| 1960 Drybrough 60/- | ||
| pale malt | 5.00 lb | 75.36% |
| black malt | 0.01 lb | 0.15% |
| flaked maize | 0.75 lb | 11.30% |
| No. 2 invert sugar | 0.75 lb | 11.30% |
| No. 3 invert sugar | 0.13 lb | 1.88% |
| Fuggles 90 min | 0.50 oz | |
| Fuggles 60 min | 0.50 oz | |
| Goldings 30 min | 0.25 oz | |
| Goldings dry hops | 0.50 oz | |
| OG | 1031 | |
| FG | 1010 | |
| ABV | 2.78 | |
| Apparent attenuation | 67.74% | |
| IBU | 17 | |
| SRM | 10 | |
| Mash at | 144 / 159º F | |
| Sparge at | 165º F | |
| Boil time | 90 minutes | |
| pitching temp | 61.5º F | |
| Yeast | WLP028 Edinburgh Ale | |
These are the beers we'll be drinking:
All the beers have been brewed by Butcher's Tears.
It isn't the largest of venues. I suggest either buying tickets in advance or getting there nice and early. You can buy tickets here:
https://butchers-tears.com/product/ron-pattinson-stout-lecture
They cost a very reasonable 25 euros, which includes a glass of all five of the beers.
The evnt will take place at the Bucher's Tears shop:
Butcher's Tears shop
Witte de Withstraat 108,
Amsterdam.
https://butchers-tears.com/
I rise at 8:30, brush my teeth and start writing this nonsense. I have an hour or so before Alexei surfaces.
"What's the plan for today, Dad?" Alexei asks.
“A diner breakfast is always a good place to start.”
“And after that?”
“A trip to the islands. And, of course, the baseball tonight.”
A quick search on the internet throws up the George Street Diner.
"It looks like a classic diner." I say to Alexei, showing him some photos.
“Cool.” He replies.
Eventually, Andrew shows his face. He's up for the diner. Though I doubt he'll be eating. He doesn't do breakfast. Often, he doesn’t do lunch, either.
The plan is breakfast, then a ferry to the islands. As we're running a little late, we get an Uber rather than the tram. We roll up at the diner just after noon. We're lucky and can get a booth.
Again, it's licensed. Andrew gets a tin of lager. While Alexei and I plump for coffee. I order a standard breakfast, Alexei a large one. Andrew isn't going to have any food. Until the waitress tells hm that at busy times, everyone has to order food.
"Why not get a single pancake?" She asks.
“OK.”
He manages to eat the pancake without any trouble. It does look quite nice, thick and fluffy.
The breakfast is pretty good. So I order a large gin and tonic to go with it. I am on holiday, after all.
It's a little after 13:00 when we leave. Which is cutting it a bit fine for the 13:20 ferry. Even though our Uber comes pretty quickly, we're still a few minutes late. The next ferry isn't until 14:20. We have to hang around.
As it gets closer to the time of the ferry, it starts filling up on the quayside.
"I hope we'll be able to get on." I say pessimistically.
“Always positive, eh, Dad.” Andrew retorts.
“Just realistic.”
“You always say that. You’re so predictable.”
“Consistent is how I’d describe it.”
It turns out there was no need to worry. We even get seats. It's not a long journey. Just 10 minutes or so. With wonderful views of the city skyline.
We're headed for a beach on the other side of the islands. Alexei wants to have a dip in the lake. While he changes in the changing rooms, Andrew and I settle into the Beach Bar.
“There are no doors on the changing booths. I had to go into the toilets to change.” Alexei complains. Before heading off for the lake.
It’s a tin of Strongbow for Andrew. Double Jamesons for me. With two ice cubes. It's quite warm in the sun. We switch seats to find some shade. I wouldn't want to get sunburnt.
We have a couple of rounds while Alexei is away, with Andrew switching to draught Molson. I try to buy a round when Alexei returns. But my fucking credit card won't work again. What the fuck is wrong with it? I get Andrew to pay instead.
We're aiming for the 17:00 ferry back to the city. We get to the dock 15 minutes before departure. And there's quite a queue.
"I hope we can get on." I say.
"Don't start with that stuff again, Dad." Alexie replies.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Stop being so negative.”
We do get on. But have to stand. Not such a problem as it's only 10 minutes or so.
Back at the hotel, we do a bit of quick shopping at the supermarket. Bread, cheese, milk. That sort of stuff. And some beer. I get a six pack of IPA called Amsterdam Boneshaker.
No time to hang around. We have tickets for the baseball tonight. Another Uber gets us to the ground a little after 19:00.
We need entrance 2. Which involves a lot of climbing. Which isn't really my thing at all. The last part in the stand is really steep.
"This would really freak your Mum out." I remark to the kids. I mean being so high up.
It's even freakier because the roof is closed.
“It freaks me out a bit, too, Dad.” Andrew says.
We missed the first innings of the White Sox. Where nothing much seems to have happened. That’s all about to change, though.
After a couple of innings, I say: “How about some beer?”
“I suppose that means you want us to fetch it.” Alexei says.
“Well, you wouldn’t want to make your poor old Dad do all that climbing.”
“Always playing the oldie card, eh?”
The kids do go and fetch tins of beer. Large cans of Budweiser for them, IPA for me.
It’s another high-scoring game. The White Sox get five runs in one innings. Then three in another. Then four. The Blue Jays hit several home runs. But with no-one on the bases, they only get a single run.
The massive video screens are dead impressive. But are flashing stuff so often, accompanied by booming music, at any little break in play, that it becomes rather distracting. And stops the crowd from getting any proper chants going.
A bloke a few seats along does try to get a chant going a few times. “Let’s go Blue Jays.” He shouts. It’s not the most inspiring of calls. A couple of times he does get others to join in. Until the stadium starts blasting music out again.
With the Blue Jays way behind, the crowd starts thinning out after the seventh innings. We leave during the last innings. Mostly because I wanted to be sure of getting to the Steam Whistle Brewery over the road before it closes.
It’s located in a former roundhouse, right next to the railway museum. The interior has impressively high ceilings. And not that many customers. It is late, though.
We arrive just before last orders. The kids get Pilsners, I go for an IPA. It's not the greatest one I've ever drunk. It's OK. We only have time for the one.
The crowds have dissipated a little when we leave the brewery. Though, as the police have closed off some of the roads, we have to walk a bit before we can get an Uber.
Back in the hotel, we eat a little and watch some What We Do in the Shadows. I turn in at 01:30.
The George Street Diner
129 George St,
Toronto, ON M5A 2M6.
http://thegeorgestreetdiner.com/
Steam Whistle Tap Room
255 Bremner Blvd,
Toronto, ON M5V 3M9.
https://steamwhistle.ca/
I rise at 8:30. Obviously, both kids are still sound asleep.
What do I do? Brush my teeth and pour myself an eye-opener. Then start writing this crap. I have to write up stuff on the go, otherwise I forget half of it. That's what happens when you're an old bastard like me.
What's our plan for the day? A diner breakfast to start with. Then a wander around town.
The air isn't quite as bad today. Though still far from clear. It's about a 15-minute walk to White Lily, a compact little diner. Which, fortunately for us, is licensed. I get myself an IPA, Andrew has a cider and Alexei a coffee.
It's exactly the sort of place I want to breakfast. Me and Alexei both go for the standard breakfast with bacon. Andrew orders no food. He isn't really a breakfast person. Unlike me and Alexei.
It's an excellent breakfast, with proper hash browns. Grated raw potato fried up, not one of those horrible triangle lumps.
On the way back, we drop by a supermarket. Where the kids get themselves some beer. While I buy some fruit and cheddar. Oh, and some milk. I need something to mix with the Jamesons.
We laze around for a while back in my room. And watch Cartoon Network.
“What's the Michelob Ultra like?”
"Watery." Andrew replies.
I take a sip.
“Fuck me that's almost completely tasteless.”
“It's not as bad as Bavaria Pils.”
“That's a very low bar.”
He switches to Molson.
“At least this has got some flavour."
At 16:00 we take a tram into the city centre. First, we have a wander to look at the old City Hall. Which is a lovely building. We then carry on to House of McGrath. A brewpub where I'm meeting the brewer, Jeffrey Kurkowski.
He comes to greet us as soon as we get through the door. And soon we have glasses of Kellerbier in our hands. It's very good. I chat away with Jeff, while drinking some of his beers.
I was really looking forward to the Pilsator, brewed to a recipe I sent Jeff. I so love me a Pilsator. And it’s several decades since I last drank one. This one is pretty good, with fairly decent hopping. Jeff has to fetch some from the tank, as it hasn't been packaged yet.
Next, he gets me a Doppelbock, also straight from the fermenter. It’s also excellent. I have quick tour around the brewhouse, which is quite compact.
After a few rounds we get an Uber to Granite Brewery, another brewpub. It has quite a pub-like feel. Which is reinforced by the presence of cask beer. I get a Best Bitter, which is rather pleasant. And very easy to drink.
We order some food. Burgers for me and Alexei. Nothing for Andrew again as he isn't hungry. Now there’s a surprise.
We have a couple of pints, then it's closing time. We take an Uber back to our hotel and have a couple of drinks before it's time for me to go to bed. Though the kids stay up later.
In minutes I'm in the land of slumber.
House of McGrath
75 Victoria St,
Toronto, ON M5C 2B1.
https://www.mcgraths.com/
Granite Brewery & Tied House
245 Eglinton Ave E,
Toronto, ON M4P 3B7.
http://www.granitebrewery.ca/
| 1940 Drybrough P 60/- | ||
| pale malt | 7.00 lb | 89.06% |
| black malt | 0.04 lb | 0.51% |
| No. 1 invert sugar | 0.75 lb | 9.54% |
| malt extract | 0.07 lb | 0.89% |
| Fuggles 135 min | 0.50 oz | |
| Fuggles 60 min | 0.50 oz | |
| Goldings 30 min | 0.50 oz | |
| Goldings dry hops | 0.25 oz | |
| OG | 1036 | |
| FG | 1013 | |
| ABV | 3.04 | |
| Apparent attenuation | 63.89% | |
| IBU | 20 | |
| SRM | 7 | |
| Mash at | 151º F | |
| Sparge at | 170º F | |
| Boil time | 135 minutes | |
| pitching temp | 60º F | |
| Yeast | WLP028 Edinburgh Ale | |
Buy a signed paperback edition of the Homebrewer's Guide to Vintage Beer. For locations inside Europe.
Buy a signed paperback edition of the Homebrewer's Guide to Vintage Beer. For the USA, Canada, Australia and other locations outside Europe.
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