It's been a crazy few months--holiday season, NYC Craft Beer Week, hosting a surprise birthday, my birthday, and my best friend's baby shower, competing in the NYC Hot Sauce Expo's Bloody Mary Mixdown (second place in Queens baby!), not to mention attending the first two of seven weddings I've been invited to this year, the second of which necessitated a trip home for me. Home, you ask? None other than the Sunshine State my friends, that gloriously weird southernmost penis shaped area of the country that, when it makes the news, often leaves the rest of us shaking our heads in wonderment. I'm from a very special little area in Florida, the one, the only-- Daytona Beach: Birthplace Of Speed, Spring Break, drive in churches and drive-thru liquor stores! Amen.
Every time I make it home (roughly about once a year) I like to observe a usual routine: lunch at the Ocean Deck, walks on the beach, subs from Publix, and a party in my Dad's backyard. If I have time, I make the trip up A1A to Snack Jack's. Since this particular trip was centered around a family wedding and I'd brought a plus one who'd never been to Florida before, my usual routine got vaguely tweaked. I did pick the Ocean Deck as our first lunch spot and were greeted by five bus-loads of inebriated college kids in swim suits singing along to Jason Mraz. For the first time EVER I sat in the upstairs dining area of the Ocean Deck, according to my dear old disgruntled dad it has changed owners and he no longer frequents Reggae Sundays. My Mahi Sandwich was excellent, as always, and my date's Bahama Mama tasted of the beach.
Since my sister and her boyfriend had called dibs on the cabin in Dad's backyard, we'd been exiled to my Dad's girlfriend's rental house. It came with a roomate. He came with a schedule. Clearly my usual routine of backyard get-togethers would have to be rescheduled. I'm accustomed to sitting on my back deck, listening to the river and my friend's stories til all hours of the night while drinking my Florida go-to beer: Red Stripe. Instead I was in someone else's house with a fridge containing home-made hummus (delicious, by the way) and a six pack of Beck's Octoberfest...in April. What's a wench to do? Luckily for me, my hometown has recently begun spawning breweries.
I first heard of the Ormond Brewing Company back in the fall and it made me ridiculously excited. Since I'd been planning to check out the brewery anyway, I decided to make that my meeting place. My family makes fun of me rather frequently for the fact that I haven't driven in years--hey, I live in New York--the reality of the situation is that they don't give me their cars, which I am more than capable of driving. They seem to think that, since I haven't gotten behind the wheel in years, I am unable to navigate; they seem to forget that I have made my way through most major cities and a few international destinations in my day, not to mention Daytona is where I learned to drive. The Ormond Brewing Co. is located down a side street, over some train tracks, and through a warehouse parking lot--everyone was convinced I'd steer my driver a.k.a date in the wrong direction, since most of my family friends who had ventured to the brewery had managed to get themselves lost. I found it on the first try, I even took the backroads to get there! You can take the wench out of Daytona but....you know.
On first glance, the space was instantly inviting: twinkly lights strung from the trees beckoned over the top of the homey wooden fence and the antique beach racer logo harkened back to our hometown's history. The taproom itself was clean and minimalist, decorated with historic photographs of Ormond and Daytona--the early days of car racing. We grabbed pints of their Cool Me Down Brown Ale and their Backwater Black IBA, moving into the backyard where my friend Travis was waiting at a table by the fire pit, sipping a pint of Hop Hazard IPA.
I instantly fell in love with the beer garden area--kids battled each other at an enormous Connect Four board and a few dudes played a leisurely game of Gators vs Seminoles cornhole (why the hell is it called that?!). There was an immediate sense of community, a mellow departure from most of the beachside bars. Travis and I were able to catch up without screaming over loud music and drunken tourists, and the overheard conversations made me wonder about how rapidly my hometown was changing. Was I really listening to a conversation between a few Florida boys about the best yoga class around?
Since the brewery doesn't serve food, we ordered delivery from Genovese's (my favorite pizza in Ormond). We also opted to go for flights of beer so we could sample the Full Steam Honey Cream, The 40 Weight Dry Stout, Pepin Le Fat, and a mysterious yet amazingly naughty bourbon breakfast brown ale that was brought out from the back. The patio had it's own service bar window with the beers listed on a very small dry erase board and, while ordering, I misread $5 Wine, Citrus IPA as "Swine Citrus Ipa" resulting in some odd looks until the woman next to me pointed out that what I thought was an "S" was, in fact, a 5.
No trip to Daytona is complete without a trip down Seabreeze Ave to view the local Friday night wild-life. We happened to be in town during the cheerleading championships and watching drunk 20-nothings wearing next to nothing attempt to walk in heels was highly entertaining. Our family friends, knowing my love of good beer lists, asked me to meet them at the Daytona Tap Room for a few pints. The Taproom's beer list took up the entire wall, and their tap handles stretched from one end of the bar to the other. A funky little cover band played a tad too loudly in the corner, making it hard to catch up. Next door to the Taproom is their sister bar, an odd little whisky joint with a stripper pole and all of four patrons.
Finally the day of the wedding arrived! My family drove out to Deleon Springs (home of my former summer camp) to the farm that was hosting the event. Canoes filled with ice, Miller High Life and PBR lined the reception area and caterers poured wine made especially for the bride and groom. The day was out of this world gorgeous and the bride--my little sister's best friend--looked insanely beautiful. Cheers Sunie and Ruby!
p.s. Yes... I wrote this back in April, since then I've worked on and completed a short film for competition, attended awards ceremony for said competition, and made my way through awesome events for Queens Beer week (more on that soon)
No comments:
Post a Comment