Heart of the City: The Northeast Taproom

  Aaah. Reading, Pennsylvania. Once nicknamed the Compton of the East, some would say a bullet proof vest is perfect attire for a day of outlet shopping in the city’s downtown district. But don’t despair if you happen to find yourself passing through the area this summer. If you’re brave enough to venture into town and you can tolerate the pungent odor of mushrooms multiplying on the surrounding farmland against 90 degree heat, you may find yourself pleasantly surprised…especially if you find yourself on a pilgrimage to a little beer drinker’s Mecca called The Northeast Taproom on N. 12^th street.

From the moment you lay eyes on the dingy, broken-shingled exterior of The Northeast Taproom as it sits on the corner of street lined with similarly tattered residences in a run-down and inconspicuous section of the city, you know you’re not dealing with the ordinary. Even so, if not for a small sign and a set of steep, stone steps built into the corner of the block, you could easily mistake the place as a part of the neighborhood itself. And once you step inside, you quickly find that statement isn’t too far from the truth.

You’re greeted at the door by the owner’s golden retriever as your brain struggles to process the endless stream of off-beat art, Elvis memorabilia, strange mosaic tiles, and other assorted oddities that hang from the walls. Shells crunch beneath your feet, a product of the endless cracking and tossing of complimentary peanuts by the thirsty patrons. You notice the men’s bathroom is actually built into the crawl space beneath an apparently unusable staircase, and that the sink to said bathroom is actually hanging on the wall on the outskirts of the barroom with a sign that reads, “Please wash your goddamn hands, we’ll know if you didn’t.”

A group of locals, who presumably know each other on a first name basis, huddle around a hand-pump loaded with a variety of craft beers such as Rogue Schwarzbier and Anchor Old Foghorn. There’s also a refrigerator stocked with an assortment of bottles ranging from the ordinary (Sierra Nevada) to the bizarre (DogFishHead). With so much variety on tap and in the cooler it’s hard to decide on a winner. But don’t worry. The bartender at the Taproom is quick to let you sample the goods. If that fails simply order the house specialty, appropriately termed a “classic.” It’s a goblet full of Guinness and a bottle of Lord Chesterfield Ale. That’s right, you’re going two-for-one, folks. Drink from the goblet, refill with the Chesterfield and repeat.

Now all you need is something to keep you busy (as if double-fisting brews and downing free peanuts doesn’t eat up your time). A lounge area inside the bar houses a vintage “Dr. Dude” pinball machine and an arcade Pac-man game, not to mention dart boards, puzzles, trivia games, beer placards, a few random trophies, a leather couch, and a ping pong table. There’s weird crap to hold your interest all over this place. And let’s be honest, people, what goes better with beer than weird crap to help you idle away the time?

The Northeast Taproom is gritty. It’s the kind of place that stays with you even after you trudge back down the heavy corner steps at the end of the night. If you like good beer and a great environment to enjoy it in, it’s a place you really can’t miss. 

If the Playoff Teams Were...Beers?

By: C.G. Morelli

So, I’m sacked out on the couch with a mountain of pork rinds to rival Kilimanjaro in front of me and one of a plethora of Divisional Playoff games blaring from the tube. I reach for my beer and take a long swig. Then I give a quick sip to my boy Mike Schmidt, my dog, who’s lazily watching every snap along with me.

I think to myself, “This is what life’s all about.” Playoff football, beer, little or no physical exertion…things can’t possibly get much better.

But then my mind begins to wander. The beer, the football, and the playoffs start mixing together, bouncing randomly off the inside walls of my skull, whipping around at warp speed, dredging up ideas I never knew I had. Then suddenly they all collide in one violent crash, molding them together as one.

That’s when it happens. A deep and earth shattering question arises from the darkest recesses of my mind:

What if the playoff teams were, uh, beers?

It’s an interesting path that could eventually end up both tasting great and being less filling. So I decided to take that trip.

Seattle Seahawks

America’s sweethearts hail from a crappy little tin can known as Qwest Field. For the Hawks, in their rainy weather hell, the regular season and training camp usually meld together as one in a typical year. But this is clearly not your typical year.

After slaying the also-rans of the NFC West to take home the division crown, a formidable lineup led by warhorse quarterback Matt Hasselbeck and journeyman runner Marshawn Lynch ousted the defending champs in memorable fashion. Fans are all too ready to watch another upset unfold this weekend at Soldier Field

But, in reality, this team is nothing more than the Corona Light of the playoff field. They’re tropical and even a little bubbly at first glance. A casual fan might get lost in the excitement of drinking in something new. However, all we’re really getting is the same old Cinderella story with a slightly more watered-down finish.

And let’s not forget the Seahawks’ inexperience, which will prove to be even worse than a big old piece of fruit in your beer.

New England Patriots

The Pats are the class of this year’s playoff field. They’ve been here before. They’ve gotten the job done on more than one occasion and, quite frankly, you know what you’re getting when it comes to this team.

All things considered, from a heavy hitting offense stocked with feared playmakers like Danny Woodhead and Benjarvus Green-Ellis, to a grizzled, veteran quarterback who’s simply on fire right now, to a battle-tested coach with a fistful of rings, it’s clear the Pats will be a tough out.

Like a good old-fashioned bottle of Sam Adam’s Lager, you know you’ll see a full bodied, complex, refreshing team at Foxboro this weekend. Only question is, will we get one of those nasty, skunky bottles of Sam that somehow inexplicably makes it into the six pack? Or will we get the real thing?

Atlanta Falcons

When Mike Smith brings his laid back coaching style to the table and Roddy White brings the dreds, there’s no better comparison in my mind than a bottle of Red Stripe.

Simple geography makes the Falcons a little bit different than the rest of the playoff field. Being the only team from the Dirty South gives them the feel of the squatty, brown bottle filled with a Rastafarian’s delight.

With a solid offense boasting Pro Bowlers Matt Ryan, Michael Turner, and Roddy White, the Falcons, like a bottle of Red Stripe, give you the illusion of silky smoothness going down.

But will Matty’s crispness suddenly turn to a bitter Jamaican-style after taste if the NFL gets its ultimate wish: an all NFC North championship game?

Pittsburgh Steelers

Now that’s enjoying the High Life, ladies and gentlemen…Miller High Life, that is.

This blue collar team comes from the quintessential blue collar town. It goes without saying that many of the fans in Da Burg will be loud, raucous, obnoxious, and with a belly full of the High Life throughout the playoffs. That alone should make the Stillers a formidable contender.

But that’s not the only reason I’ve likened them to the High Life. Just like the beer, they’re an every man’s team. They’ve won six Super Bowls already, and they did it on their own terms: by pounding the football. Look for Rashard Mendenhall to continue this fine tradition.

Don’t forget, the Steel-city crew boasts one of the grittiest defensive lineups in football, with Troy Polamalu cleaning clocks up the middle, and they can put up points in a hurry when Big Ben and Mr. Wallace are clicking.

If you love meat, potatoes, beer, and hard hitting, you’re a lock to be cheering for the Black and Gold this weekend.

Have a Brew on Me: Pilsner Urquell

By: C.G. Morelli

The same people who gave us Miller Genuine Draft and Mickey’s Malt Liquor, also bring us this often-lauded Czech beer. That’s right, Pilsner Urquell is a spawn of the SAB Miller Empire, and although it may not actually reign supreme over all Czech beers, it certainly seems to be the most widely distributed.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I think Pilsner Urquell is a great beer. If you offered me a bottle right now, I’d be hard-pressed to turn you down. Ok, so the fact is I’d probably gnaw my own arm off before refusing your offer. Who are you to judge? Besides, Urquell offers that clean, crisp front with a hard, bitter finish that beer lovers go crazy for.

This brew has its detractors, however. It tends to be a bit thicker than a true pilsner should be, and often leaves a gritty metallic aftertaste. It also tastes better off the tap, although it’s much more difficult to find in that form. I don’t know, call me crazy, but it seems like everything loses a little punch after being forced through the rigors of mass production.

Pilsner Urquell is a good, solid beer. But there just may be better Czech alternatives out there like Czech Rebel, which is more authentic and less expensive. It may be a little bit harder to find than a SAB Miller brew, but the end result is well worth the hunt.

3 Pints out of 5

Have a Brew on Me: Natty Greene's

By: C.G. Morelli

When I heard Natty Greene’s, a brew pub right in my own backyard, had brought home hardware home from the Great American Beer Festival, I was mildly excited to say the least.

It was 2006, and I had not yet completed my maiden voyage to Natty Greene’s Brew Pub in downtown Greensboro, NC. But after they snagged a silver medal for their Old Town Brown Ale, I figured a visit was long overdue.

The pub was established in 2004, but the structure that houses it was built in 1895. The old town feel inside is comfortable and inviting, all the brewing is done directly on site, and the Brown Ale lives up to its billing.

Long story short, it wasn’t a tough decision to become a bit of a repeat customer over the past two years. Surprisingly, however, it wasn’t the signature Brown Ale that kept me coming back. It was another of what Natty Greene’s calls their “core” of beers, the Guilford Golden Ale.

Its deep, golden color winks at you from within a full pint and begs you to take a sip. Once you do, you’re presented with a mild, nutty ale that’s not overly bitter or gassy like other brews in its mold. Guilford Golden Ale exudes a slight tinge of honey without giving you the impression you’re drinking cough medicine. It all adds up to a beer that’s very enjoyable, even for a person who may not normally order ale.

With a slogan like “Taste the South,” you better be able to deliver a quality, authentically American beer with a clean finish. Natty Greene’s Guilford Golden Ale is more than up to the task.

5 pints out of 5

Heart of the City: The Northeast Taproom

By: C.G. Morelli

  Aaah. Reading, Pennsylvania. Once nicknamed the Compton of the East, some would say a bullet proof vest is perfect attire for a day of outlet shopping in the city’s downtown district. But don’t despair if you happen to find yourself passing through the area this summer. If you’re brave enough to venture into town and you can tolerate the pungent odor of mushrooms multiplying on the surrounding farmland against 90 degree heat, you may find yourself pleasantly surprised…especially if you find yourself on a pilgrimage to a little beer drinker’s Mecca called The Northeast Taproom on N. 12^th street.

From the moment you lay eyes on the dingy, broken-shingled exterior of The Northeast Taproom as it sits on the corner of street lined with similarly tattered residences in a run-down and inconspicuous section of the city, you know you’re not dealing with the ordinary. Even so, if not for a small sign and a set of steep, stone steps built into the corner of the block, you could easily mistake the place as a part of the neighborhood itself. And once you step inside, you quickly find that statement isn’t too far from the truth.

You’re greeted at the door by the owner’s golden retriever as your brain struggles to process the endless stream of off-beat art, Elvis memorabilia, strange mosaic tiles, and other assorted oddities that hang from the walls. Shells crunch beneath your feet, a product of the endless cracking and tossing of complimentary peanuts by the thirsty patrons. You notice the men’s bathroom is actually built into the crawl space beneath an apparently unusable staircase, and that the sink to said bathroom is actually hanging on the wall on the outskirts of the barroom with a sign that reads, “Please wash your goddamn hands, we’ll know if you didn’t.”

A group of locals, who presumably know each other on a first name basis, huddle around a hand-pump loaded with a variety of craft beers such as Rogue Schwarzbier and Anchor Old Foghorn. There’s also a refrigerator stocked with an assortment of bottles ranging from the ordinary (Sierra Nevada) to the bizarre (DogFishHead). With so much variety on tap and in the cooler it’s hard to decide on a winner. But don’t worry. The bartender at the Taproom is quick to let you sample the goods. If that fails simply order the house specialty, appropriately termed a “classic.” It’s a goblet full of Guinness and a bottle of Lord Chesterfield Ale. That’s right, you’re going two-for-one, folks. Drink from the goblet, refill with the Chesterfield and repeat.

Now all you need is something to keep you busy (as if double-fisting brews and downing free peanuts doesn’t eat up your time). A lounge area inside the bar houses a vintage “Dr. Dude” pinball machine and an arcade Pac-man game, not to mention dart boards, puzzles, trivia games, beer placards, a few random trophies, a leather couch, and a ping pong table. There’s weird crap to hold your interest all over this place. And let’s be honest, people, what goes better with beer than weird crap to help you idle away the time?

The Northeast Taproom is gritty. It’s the kind of place that stays with you even after you trudge back down the heavy corner steps at the end of the night. If you like good beer and a great environment to enjoy it in, it’s a place you really can’t miss.  

Have a Brew on Me: Birra Moretti

By: C.G. Morelli

 Ok, so the main reason I tried Birra Moretti in the first place was because it’s only two letters removed from my last name. Who cares? You’d do the same thing if your last name was Spoorslight, so get off my back.

Obviously, this wasn’t the only reason I decided to give this Italian beer a taste. There were others too, I swear.

For one, the mustachioed gentleman on the label is apparently entrenched in such a satisfying buzz that he can only focus properly through his left eye. I think I’ve said enough on this piece.

Another is the simple fact that, although Italy is not normally lauded for its beer, the country’s proximity to Germany and Switzerland in the north should have at least provided enough alcoholic influence on the brew to help me tie one on. Of course, in this respect, I was not disappointed.

What surprised me most, however, was that nothing about this beer left me disappointed. The first things I noticed about Birra Moretti were how it immediately hit you with the bold, full-bodied crispness of a good lager, and how it finished smooth. There were no hints of fruit, or gimmicky frills of any kind for that matter; only the dry, slightly nutty richness of barley and hops.

It was kind of like drinking a darker version of Heineken, but without any of the skunky aftertaste that seems to always lurk near the bottom of those blasted green bottles. Also missing were the agonizing memories of bizarre and awkward Super Bowl ads invading my mind with each sip. Let’s thank the people at Moretti for having a tiny advertising budget, a lack of brand recognition, and the simple desire to make good beer.

At around 10 bucks a six pack, Moretti tends to be a little pricier than other imported bottles, but let’s be honest, it’s not like you’ll be parked in front of the football game this weekend eating caviar. You’re going straight for the buy-one-get-one-free frozen pizzas, pal, and we all know it. So, you might as well shell out some of that surplus dinner cash on a beer that’s authentically Italian. Birra Moretti es multo bene. Salute!

4 pints out of 5