Chicago - Sunday

We don’t get up that early. I wait until Derek has finished in the bathroom. When I get to the kitchen, He’s making tea. Perfect.

“What would you like for breakfast? Bacon and eggs?” He asks.

“Ooh, yes.”

“Would you like some porridge, too?”

“Why not?”

The bacon and eggs are very nice. No salt, unfortunately. And the bread, despite being wholemeal, is weirdly sweet, in the way American bread is. The taste takes me back to the 1980s, when I lived in New York. And struggled to find edible bread.

We’re in no rush. Our event at the Red Lion doesn’t start until 14:00. Derek suggests that we get there early. Just in case. I’m not going to argue. Always better safe than sorry.

When it was first set up, it sounded like it was just going to be me and Derek chatting informally about the history of British beer styles and answering questions. Then, a few days ago, Liz Garibay, who’s organising the event for Chicago Brewseum, mentioned that she had a projector and screen. Sounded like they expect a presentation.

Luckily, I’ve a couple of powerpoints, of differing lengths, on that very topic. I’ve a whole suite of talks I’ve put together over the years. [Which I’ll be happy to perform for, given suitable payment. They cover a wide range of topics, from German Sour Styles to the real history of Scottish Beer.]

Derek also has a presentation with some good illustrations of fermenting and cleansing vessels.  That could come in handy.

Getting an Uber, we arrive quite early, around 12:30. Liz isn’t there. No surprise, as we have arranged to meet at 13:30. We introduce ourselves to the owner, Colin Cordwell and have an interesting chat with him. 

The pub is full of wartime memorabilia from both WW I and WW II. Not surprising, as Colin’s father fought in WW II. For a bit, then was a POW. Where he was the forger for the Great Escape.

There’s a selection of UK and German beers on draught. Not really fancying any of the British stuff, I get a Hofbrau Dunkles. Which is maltily pleasant, as you would expect.

We chat with a couple of people until Liz, who’s organising this, pops through the door. That’s when the fun starts. As we start to set up the projector and stuff.

I have a bag I take with me on my travels containing all the cables and crap that I might need. The VGA cable I recently retired as it took up too much space. No-one uses those things any more. And my new laptop has an HDMI socket. That’s the standard now. Except I forgot to replace the VGA cable with an HDMI one.

Luckily, someone else has the right.

I select a Belhaven Stout for my talking beer. Sadly, it’s on nitro. And has an odd aftertaste. Never mind. It’s showtime.

It’s mostly me doing my thing. Occasionally turning to Derek for reassurance. Or for further explanation of topics – such as parti-gyling – which he understands far better than me. We’re done pretty quickly, I think.

“How long did I speak for. Around an hour, wasn’t it?”

“It was an hour and forty minutes.” Liz tells me. What? I spoke for that long? How did everyone stay awake? No wonder I was getting tired.

The room being pretty small, the audience was limited to 20. But a fairly distinguished crowd, including Ray Daniels, Jenny Pfäfflin (brewer at Dovetail) and John Hannafan, who runs the Siebel Institute.

We get chatting to John and he invites me and Derek down on Tuesday to take a look at the institute. There’s some of our free time gone.

Quite a lot of time passes as we converse with various people. For reasons beyond my control, I have no books to flog. Plenty of time to chat, then. Until hunger starts to strike.

Duck Duck Goat is suggested as an interesting Asian restaurant within walking distance of our flat. Sounds perfect. We take a cab back to the flat, drop our stuff and head out on foot.

It’s about a 15-minute walk. Just enough to get our appetites going. The restaurant is packed. We can’t get a table until 9:15 – in about an hour – and they close at 9:30.

“Will we have time to eat?”

“That’s when the kitchen closes. You’ll have time to eat.”

Glad to have that clarified. What to do in the meantime?

“How about the bar over the road?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Our arses parked at the bar, we peruse the beer list. It’s a bit dark and I can’t read it that well.

“I’ll have an IPA.” It seems like a good default. Derek, being peckish, gets some edamame beans.

It’s a burger and rock music place. But closes at 9 PM. What the fuck? I thought this was a big city. Somewhere like this should be open until 3 AM. At least.

We stroll over to the restaurant when we’ve drunk up our beers. It’s still pretty full. We order 3 dishes. The first, a type of dumpling, is amazing. The second, deep-fried cream cheese wrapped in pastry, is just weird. The last, a noodle thing, is OK, but nothing special.

I have a tin of Metropolitan Oktoberfest to go with my food. It’s OK in a Lagery sort of way.

It’s not that late when we get back to the flat. We’ve a fairly early start tomorrow. And a very full day.

I only pause for a bourbon soul massage.



The Red Lion Pub
2446 N Lincoln Ave,
Chicago,
IL 60614.
http://redlionchicago.com/


Kuma's Corner West Loop
852 W Fulton Market,
Chicago,
IL 60607.
http://kumascorner.com/


Duck Duck Goat
857 W Fulton Market,
Chicago,
IL 60607.
https://duckduckgoatchicago.com/
 

My flights were paid for by Goose Island and my accommodation by Chicago Brewseum.