“They call it the Lycra bar” my uncle said to me when I announced I was going to the Moab Brewery in Moab Utah.
As I walked in the door I immediately understood what he meant as the walls of the gift shop were lined with lycra cycling jerseys. It was clear I was in mountain biking country. It was also clear that I should have made a reservation for dinner.
I took a leap of faith and wandered around the open seating in the bar hoping to find a spot I could squeeze into. There was no such luck so I made my way back to the hostess and requested to be added to the wait list for the dining room. I was handed a flashing square that held the fate of my dinner time. I waited about 30 minutes for a table, which was an impressive wait time at 8:30pm, but this place was hopping and it was understandable.
The hostess lead me to a small out of the way table where I read over the beer list and the Red Rye IPA caught my eye. This is a 4% Alcohol By Volume (ABV) with a 75 International Bittering Unit (IBU). This beer served up well to it’s namesake, delivering a nice rye and malty flavor. For an IPA there was not a huge hop flavor but overall this beer was delightful.
I ordered some food to go along with my beer, a Southwestern Chicken Chipotle Wrap, which I thought the spicy flavor of the wrap would mix nicely with the IPAs I would be consuming that night. I was right and the sandwich paired well as it’s flavorful sauce dripped down my arm. Although it was slightly messy my mom use to say “you can always tell how good something tastes by how messy it is”.
My next beer was the Johnnys American IPA. This beer has a 4% ABV and a 60 IBU. This is usually the beer you see of Moab’s if you see their beer stocked somewhere. This beer was good but there was no forceful hop punch like an IPA typically has. It did have some citrus hop flavors which is always enjoyed by me!
As I enjoyed my meal the waiter periodically checked in on me. Perhaps it was because I was seated alone or the waiter was friendly but in our exchanges I found that he was also a fellow dog traveler and had even traveled to my hometown with his dogs. I always find it amusing when people tell me that they have traveled to my hometown, and although I am aware that it is a travel destination, I live there and to me it’s just home, not somewhere I travel to. My dad says I’m spoiled having grown up where I did and not being subjected to the horrors of Southern California like he and my mom where.
Eh, maybe I am spoiled.