Speaking of Beer

So our plane landed in Portland, and my wife and I had more-or-less successfully unloaded the kids and the stuff (roughly in that order), and we were schlepping bags/herding cats through the airport, when we were greeted by the smiling faces of our friends Jason and Beth. It turns out Jason was smiling for a special reason, as we had no sooner thrown the kids and stuff into the rental car, when he grabbed me and informed me that we had to go and drink, right this instant. I waved goodbye to the family, and then Jason whisked me off to a little place called Tuck’s Brewery.

It turns out the urgency was warranted: Tuck’s is only open from Noon to 6 on Saturdays. That’s it, no more, you snooze you lose. It’s in a little strip mall on Portland’s west side, an unassuming facade with a deceptively Old-Milwaukee-esque sign over the door, holding the promise of lots of fake wood panelling within. I know about deceiving appearances and all that, but I still wasn’t quite prepared for what came next. Passing beneath that flashing neon “Pub Open” sign ushered me into one of the coolest beer experiences of my life.

We were in fact greeted by cheap panelling, but that’s beside the point. It was quite clear that only two things were important here: The nine tap-handles behind the bar, and the guy who was pulling them. That would be Max Tieger, brewer, bartender, and bouncer of Tuck’s. He’s blunt, brash, and not afraid to ban you from his place for life if he doesn’t like the cut of your jib. He’s also a freakishly talented brewer, and justifiably proud of his eclectic and groundbreaking beers. Jason and I went for the sampler, and I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash going through this set of brews: a golden ale, an alt beer, a berry-bursting framboise, and a spicy witbier, all zigged and zagged me. Each was a solid, even excellent example of the style. Then it started to get really wild.

First came the Imperial Stout, served on nitro. Beneath a creamy tan head that would make a Guinness lover weep with joy was the quentessential silky black brain torpedo we all know and love. I wasn’t in a “stout mood”, but one sip and I was ready to order up a pint. But then came the next beer: A Belgian IPA. Say wha? Initially I wasn’t sure: the nose promised big hops, but the first sip hit me with that funky phenolic belgian yeast flavor, only to be followed by an agressive bitterness settling on my tongue like a cloud of little spikes. Wild. And after a couple more hits, I was sold. The flavors of the hops and yeast marry well, and add a whole new dimension to the IPA experience. Fantastic stuff, and I ultimately did order up a pint.

But that wasn’t all. Turns out Max has beers “in the back” that you apparently need to charm your way to. I guess Jason was one charming mofo, because we ultimately got treated to the best Tuck’s has to offer. That would be Farmer’s Daughter, which I’m guessing is a belgian saison, but infused with vanilla and just about the best fucking beer I’ve ever had in my life. And then came the trippel, which is obviously Max’s favorite child, and an absolutely stellar example of a terrific style of beer. We ordered up a growler of each.

Now the bad news: Tuck’s is about to close for good. However, Max will be soon opening his own place (called, appropriately enough, “Max’s”), so weep not. Keep your eyes out for more from Max Tieger, and keep your ears out for Tuck’s on an upcoming Speaking of Beer.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 9th, 2006 at 7:32 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.