Pretty Things

Labor day, or indeed, any holiday, is a great day to take stock of the important things in life. Things like safe labor conditions, job security, maximum hours, minimum wage: all of these are part and parcel with the importance of American labor. And I'm pretty thankful for all of those.

A portion of Spitzer's taps. I don't have a wide-angle lens.

Pretty Things is right in the middle.

This past weekend, I had a few friends in town, and we went around lower Manhattan on a bit of a walking tour. We came across a beautiful bar called Spitzer's Corner, a lovely spot on the Lower East Side with 40 taps. So really, my kind of place. My girlfriend at the time (more on this in a moment) identified a small tap as bearing the logo of the Pretty Things Beer and Ale Project from Somerville, MA, and I knew I had to try whatever it was.

Turns out, it was amazing. I've written about Pretty Things before, as I have really enjoyed their offerings. This one happened to be their Hedgerow Bitter, which Spitzer's describes as "a whole new kind of hoppy."

A welcome cold beer on a surprisingly warm and humid day.

It poured nicely, with a lovely copper color and a fluffy white head that trapped all manner of aromatic oils. The aroma was surprisingly absent, just a faint whiff of grass, but the sip was powerful indeed. Hedgerow looks consciously to the Old World - by calling itself a "bitter," it evokes the flavors of the great English bitters (Pretty Things uses all English-grown hop varietals in this beer as well). However, they put a distinctly American spin on the English tradition.

Nice lacing on a very, very nice beer.

Hedgerow jacks up the hops and creates a wonderfully crisp flavor profile, pumping up the bitter grapefruit and grassy hay qualities while downplaying the malt sweetnesses that one might expect from a nice amber ale. The finish is bracingly dry and floral, but the mix of those flavors is so delicious I couldn't help but continue.

I should clarify that "girlfriend at the time" thing, I suppose. After saying goodbye to my good friends from England, said girlfriend-at-the-time and I walked from the LES to The High Line, a beautiful elevated park above Manhattan's meatpacking district. And it was there that I proposed to her, in a small turn-off above 25th Street.

Yet another pretty thing.

And so, my girlfriend-at-the-time has become my fiancée. Lucky, lucky me.