Tuck’s Brewery–Portland, OR
Sunday, July 9th, 2006
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.

It turns out that if you visit the actual place, many surprises await. If you have a fairly hip beer outlet, they may carry three or four Sierra Nevada brews (including seasonals). When my friend Matt and I sat down at the pub and ordered a sampler, we were greeted by SIXTEEN little glasses filled with all shades of the beer rainbow. They had a kölsch as the lightest, almost Bud-like, entry; not one but THREE different wheat beers (”Wheat”, “Crystal Wheat”, and a hefe-weizen), several variations on the Pale Ale (blonde all the way up to an IPA, with about 5 steps between), and (of course) their Stout and Porter. To go through all of that side-by-side was a bit overwhelming, but I got used to it. After tackling the sampler, I ordered an IPA, and really started to relax.
Matt and I then took a self-guided tour of the brewery and bottling plant. The place is set up to really crank out the beer. The fermenters look like the tanks at an oil refinery, and the bottling area is cranking out cases faster than Laverne and Shirley ever dreamed of. It’s freaky that the beer is so good when that part of things felt so “mass-produced”.
On the way out we checked out their hop farm. One of the guys at the restaurant said that this is a labor of love for the owner, Ken Grossman. The vines look cool, but apparently its not that easy to grow quality hops in that particular climate. Still, once a year they harvest them and pour them into a special beer available, of course, only in Chico. It’s a company town, but what a freekin’ company!
BRATWURST IN GUINNESS
HEFE CHICKEN
TRADITIONAL WASSAIL
This week (May 15 - 21) is the inauguaral American Craft Beer Week. It’s a great excuse to spend much time visiting your local breweries and/or brewpubs. You can actually earn “points” by doing so, and win pint glasses, T-shirts, or even a trip to the Great American Beer Festival in Denver this September. Plus, you can drink lots of REALLY good beer.



