| Vince Capano is a two time winner of the prestigious Quill and Tankard writing award for humor from the North American Guild of Beer Writers. Vince's column is now a regular feature of beernexus.com Check back often for the next installment of Vince's Adventures in Beerland |
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| It's Not Really a Hotel by Vince Capano Stirling, New Jersey is a nice suburban community with a small (as in don’t blink twice) town center. Despite rumors to the contrary, I’m told it even appears on some maps, excluding, of course, any I’ve ever had. The good news however is that there are at least five equally confusing ways to almost find it. You can try your luck on either of two highways, one main road, one “boulevard” and a series of detour signs along a stretch of land called “The Great Swamp” (we are in New Jersey after all). Needless to say the key elements to getting to Stirling are a car with a full tank of gas and some luck. I had received a tip from usually reliable beer hunter “Dr. K”( a necessary Nome de plume here – she works for a rival beer site) - that this little hamlet had a beer bar worthy of a special trip. No, she said, it wasn’t because they had several thousand taps, and no, it was not the home of a GABF medal winning brewpub. All "Dr. K" said was that I should go and I’ d find out just why one particular pub in the town topped her secret list of best beer places no one knows about. Which reminds me, in the spirit of keeping the promise I made to the good Doc that I would only mention this place to my closest friends, all those reading this are duty bound to maintain silence. Remember, loose lips sink ships, or in this case will overcrowd one great little beer oasis- The Stirling Hotel. The exterior of the Stirling Hotel, to my mind, looks much like it must have when the structure was built in 1903. Weathered wood, a tidy porch, and a few small windows. I almost expected a stage coach to pull up with Gene Autry singing a few tunes and John Wayne riding shotgun. A double door (a swinging one would have been perfect) leads to a small entranceway separated from the bar by a long, heavy curtain which I can only assume is for insulation from the windy gusts let in by excited beer geeks who think beer first and close the door second . There are fewer than 25 seats at the inviting bar. No chrome or glitz here. Everything is wood- worn, warm, and welcoming. Behind the bar was the usual array of glassware and bottles. Usual, that is, only at first glance. Of course there were the standard, nondescript shaker pints but there were also pilsner glasses with names like Victory and Urquell, goblet style vessels with Chimay, and Duvel printed on them, uniquely curved glasses boasting of gold lettered Brooklyn Brewmaster’s Reserve, Sierra Nevada Celebration, Bigfoot , and…well, you get the idea. According to the Official Beer Hunter’s guide book, any pub that has such glassware either serves great beer or knows someone who goes to a lot of promo nights for the free swag. I sat in front of the bar’s nine, yes only nine, tap handles. I was told there are another six on the outdoor deck that is open in summer. Needless to say even the research requirements of this article couldn't get me out there in 5 degree weather to verify this. Of the nine indoor taps one was Miller Lite. Now we’re down to eight that actually serve beer. Well, not only were they a great eight, the eight actually became 11 by the time I left and had morphed into 14 by my next visit the following week. For the official record let me state that all counting was done while sober. And who was responsible for this feat of incredible prestidigitation? No not Harry Houdini or David Copperfield, but one Dan Schneider, bar manager and beer guru. It’s a fundamental violation of the magician’s code to tell you how a trick is done, but we at BeerNexus have no such constraints. The only thing that would keep me from telling you right now how Dan works his magic is if my Nexus paycheck bounces. Again. Now here's the neat little secret behind making 8 taps into 14 – just never, never have a dead one. Bring in quality beer, often in sixtels, and watch the turnover. When one tap goes down just put a new and different beer up. Please note, this is not a ‘we have more draft beers than anyone’ bait and switch deal (have you ever been to one of the Firewater chain’s pubs?) where they’re usually out of more beers than they have. On my last trip to Stirling, as soon as the Chimay was kicked, Dan had Corsendonk flowing within 5 minutes. When the Old Engine Oil tap gurgled empty McGregor’s Scotch Ale was being poured in it’s place. When I finished the last ounce of heavenly Hop Rod Rye Imperial IPA, my next glass was filled with Mojo Risin Double IPA. Just why is the turnover so quick at the Stirling Hotel? One look down the bar explained part of it – there were a lot of good-beer drinkers there. For every glass of wine or mixed drink served I saw dozens of quality ales. Maybe it was the pioneer spirit encouraged by the rustic décor that made even macro lager fans into adventurous craft beer drinkers. Then again, perhaps it was all due to global warming, a theory I’d gladly explore for any grant giving foundation out there. My real guess however is that it’s all due to the enthusiastic, contagious love of beer that engulfs the Stirling Hotel thanks to that afore mentioned magician of suds, Dan Schneider. Hey, this is our kind of guy – he even took his vacation at Dogfish Head. Enough said. It seems Dan is able to convince just about anyone who walks in to try just about anything in his great lineup of brews. Logic dictates that if he gets you to try a Leffe Brune any sane person wouldn’t leave without trying the Brooklyn Extra Brown or the Bourbon Barrel Imperial Brown. The pied piper of Hamlin has nothing on this pied piper of brew. When a tap goes down the excitement goes up. The murmur of the bar’s beer denizens as to which brew will soon replace an empty tap has been known to drown out even bone jarring claps of thunder from major nor’easters. On my last visit I had just settled in with a glass of Weyerbacker Insanity, when Mr. Schneider announced the last glass of Eel River IPA had been served and that a new one – he slyly didn’t identify the brew- would be on in several minutes. Some at the bar wiped their brow, a good move that prevented the perspiration of anticipation from dropping into their still perfectly good glass of beer. Some looked for the closest paper bag in case hyperventilation took hold. Several of the sharpies leaned forward trying to get a clue when Dan reached into a well covered box of tap handles. Showing them that peeking doesn’t pay, Dan lifted one tap handle out of the box, hesitated, and then put it back shaking his head. He repeated this several times as the ah’s and oohs from the beer faithful grew. As the tension ratcheted up nervous shouts of beer choices came from a group standing to the left of the bar. Dan just looked at them, expressionless. Seconds seemed like days. Just when the faint of heart began to wonder who in the bar knew CPR to help them, Dan picked up a single tap handle. He coyly smiled and held it aloft for all to see. Then, in a voice worthy of NFL film highlights, he said – “it’s a Smuttynose Wheat Barleywine which I have personally aged for one year in the cellar below”. Cheers and applause engulfed the bar. Dan had delivered once again! To be honest I must add that amidst the joyous throng of craft beer people I did notice a quiet frown from one disappointed soul who wanted Buckler’s NA, while a “you guys are all nuts” look was thrown out by the Budweiser drinker on the last stool on the left. Clearly those two proved the adage that you can usually tell the quality of something by knowing who doesn't like it. So now you know why the Stirling Hotel has become a regular stop in my beer journeys. Trust me on this one - the Stirling Hotel may not be a real hotel but to a beer fan it’s definitely sterling – solid sterling! |
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| It's Not Really A Hotel by Vince Capano |