Question: Why do the English like warm beer? Answer: Because they all have Lucas refrigerators!
Ha! Besides providing a look at Brit humor in a nutshell, that joke illustrates one fact: not all folks like their brew at the same temperature. A lot of folks overseas, for instance, like their brew a little on the room temperature side, whereas we here in the United States usually like for it to be so cold that your hand sticks to the mug like that kid’s tongue in the movie A Christmas Story.
Yes, I’m talking about Cold Beer, advertised everywhere as such on neon signs at convenience stores and roadhouses from here to El Segundo.
There’s a reason for the temperature discrepancy. Beer tastes best at the temperature at which it was fermented. Most American beer (Bud, Miller, PBR) is Pilsner, which uses lager yeast. This type of beer is typically fermented at a cooler temperature (around 33-40 degrees F.), and as such it tastes better at that temperature. Most English beer is Ale, which uses ale yeast. This type of beer is typically fermented around 50 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and thus tastes better at those temperatures. Warm lager tastes stale. Cold ale tastes, well, like not much of anything. Which makes it Schlitz.
Now that that’s out of the way, on to point two. We are Americans. We drink beer cold. Hell, we even drink tea cold. As part of our summer guide, we decided to write a story about almost anyone in Charlotte would tell you is summer fun: drinking cold beer. But where to get the coldest beer in Charlotte? Glad you asked.
The following is one man’s unofficial and highly unscientific attempt to answer the question. A good old-fashioned Bud was ordered at each of these establishments, and, lacking a thermometer, the author used only his highly developed taste buds to make the final tally. When in doubt, the experiment was repeated.
Thomas Street Tavern was the early leader out of the blocks, providing a Bud so cold one could use it as a compress. Actually, getting the beer sometimes takes awhile depending on the crowd, but the beer usually satisfies with its frothy nectar.
Right across the street we have the venerable Penguin Drive-In. The Bird’s always been known for cold beer, even when it was also well known for a leaky roof and some occasional shady characters. Thankfully, the roof has been fixed, though one still sees a few shady types on occasion. The beer? A real live penguin could have delivered it. Arctic-style, baby.
Rock Bottom Brewery: Cold, but no cigar. Their excellent on-tap selection is usually agreeably chilly, but on this particular night, the Budweiser was more like a cool spring breeze than the Anheuser Snowman archetype we’re after.
I was woefully underdressed on my visit to the City Tavern, as were two construction workers to my left. The servers did bring me a beer, however, which was suitably cold. As were their smiles. The construction workers paid for their brew, shrugged, and left, and I followed.
Tremont Music Hall’s offerings are cold, depending on the show in question. Big name acts mean warmer beer, as the cases aren’t stocked quick enough. Go see a local band, however, and they’re about as cold as they come.
My odds-on favorite before we began our, um, survey, was the Double Door Inn, which has been serving them up for decades now. Like Tiger Woods in a must-win situation, George and Co. consistently rise to the occasion with a frosty brew and smartass asides about whatever band is playing. The beer was chilly, moving them right to the top of the chart with the two Thomas Avenue bars (frankly, it’s hard to tell the difference between, say, ice cold and really ice cold).
The Evening Muse, on North Davidson, does have cold Budweiser, but usually they have cheap Bass on tap, which immediately supercedes buying American. Not ice cold, but rather “pretty darn” cold. That said, if you go outside to smoke, it seems that much colder when you come back in, something I think they figured out when coming up with the policy.
Pat’s Time For One More isn’t a place with loads of flash, as anyone who’s been there could attest to. Which means they must do whatever it is they do quite well. What they do, frankly, is serve (very) cold beer and have a hot jukebox. Another frontrunner has emerged, and I don’t know what to do besides hit my next bar with a thermometer, as a photo finish seems likely. And down the stretch they come!
I’ve only been in Time Lounge once, even though the club is directly across from my apartment. That one time, however, I did (luckily?) order a Bud. Frosty cold, and with a napkin to match. Frankly, the whole place was pretty sweet although, to be honest, it was rather empty. Which is fine with me, as most of the uptown throng that descends upon the place tend to make my blood boil which, in turn, warms my beer. Across-the-street neighbors Aqua, formerly the Q Lounge, are right below my window, but I’ll be damned if I’m going in a place that allows Power 98 to boom P. Diddy out of a van in the parking lot until 2am, no matter how cold the beer might be.
Frankly, my quest began to grow a bit weary. Cirrhosis of the liver started to seem like a possibility, and Budweiser began to taste even more like bathwater than it normally does. The Visulite Theatre: Yep, cold. Puckett’s Farm Equipment: Also quite nippy. I also went to Sonoma Bistro, but ordered a scotch instead, as I was afraid to order a Bud with a $40 meal.
So what do I have, outside of a mountain of receipts to show that I was out doing my writerly duty? The knowledge that four bars are pretty much even when it comes to delivering the icy cold goodness: The Penguin, Pat’s, Thomas Street Tavern, and the Double Door. If I was threatened with death (like, say, having to drink Bud for the rest of my life), I’d have to whittle it down and give the trophy to. . .drum roll please. . .The Penguin, with a close second going to Thomas Street Tavern.
And with that, we draw to a close CL’s look at the coldest brew in town. If you see me out, please don’t hesitate to buy me a drink — anything but Budweiser. *
This article appears in May 15-21, 2002.
