Gluten Free Beer - Capitol Hill, Seattle

holy sh#%! what a (mis) adventure

what i learned from tonight:

the (still) only 2 bars to go on cap hill to enjoy gluten free beer:
the hopvine on 15th ave e. serves 'new grist' for $ a bottle
this a great, sweet (but not overly-so) independent-made beer from milwaukee, WI (thank you, milwaukee!)
and
(lucky for me & all g/f queer girls in seattle) the wild rose on pike
serves 'redbridge' for $ a bottle (not the best, but usually the most accessible, this is definitely the 'budweiser' of gluten free beer.) it is in face made by anheauser bush. but hey, it's definitely palatable, half-decent, not super-strong and the most accessible of the gluten free beers i've found. been able to find redbridge in places like safeway to trader joe's.

(ok whats it called, by dance hall has green and black's for like $10 a bottle but that's kinda just too expensive to pay for a single bottle of beer, even if it's good gluten free.)

Grocery stores
bad news: the two grocery stores closest to me (and right, it's all about me, i know, but seriously, c'mon on seattle, there's not one, but TWO LARGE grocery stores within 4 blocks of my apt, why couldn't ONE of you carry just ONE type of gluten-free beers??)

good news:
there are multiple grocery stores that DO carry:
1- Safeway on 22nd and Madison - Redbridge (usually $7.99 or 8.99 for 6-pack)
2- Trader Joes' on 17th and Madison - Redbridge (similar price, $7.99- $9.99 per 6-pack)
3- Madison Market on 16th and Madison (no surprise here)- but the real surprise is that the last few times in, they've only had 1 g/f beer in stock, and it's a doozy called St.Peter's (British), looks like you're buying some sort of medicine glass bottle/ vat, and it could be used as medicine, it's strong as shit. whatver %, and seems even stronger. It's a deal at $4.99 per bottle, b/c if you split one you're good to go. And if you drink the whole one by yourself, you'll be plenty buzzed / under the influence (especially if you're a lightweight like me, you'll struggle even to finish it..I'm just saying)
4- QFC on Broadway at Republican (aka: The Big QFC) - Thanks to the TJ's worker who sent me in that direction, which I had nearly overlooked...and which if my hunt was unsuccessful, I was gonna be about to break some stuff I was so frustrated, but luckily...all turned out well. I not only found single bottles of the uber-great-tasting, strong, dark, Belgian (style?)organic, g/f beer, Green & Blacks for $6.99 a bottle but..
BOTH Bard's Tale and New Grist in 6-packs. Bard's Tale was $12.99 and New Grist was $9.99-- guess which one thrifty me chose? yeah, well I just had Bard's Tale last week, so it's all good, and New Grist is damn tastey!
Bam! QFC on Broadway wins the award so far for carrying the most g/f beer! A whopping 3!! :)

oh and for good measure, when I was in San Antonio, TX last week, the local HEB (equivalent to Safeway) actually carried 6-packs of the high quality Bard's Tale for only $8.99. Go TX!

It's hard to not describe the impetus of tonight's grand mission: to find all the gluten-free beer places on the hill. Was in fact inspired by whiny, crankiness, PMS, a good reading at Elliot Bay from a great, new-ish writer I just discovered today, as well as a desire to find a little niche, not dark, but not over-lit, quiet and just write and have a beer, and just wanting to have a beer, be warm and relax and write...but my night was not to be that simple. It involved me walking and stopping by various bars, restaurants and grocery stores for about 2 hours and covering about that many miles of north and central capitol hill.

Running Shoes Just Want Some Love, too

Green Silence Speaks

Your feet are a bit oddly shaped.
Yes, they do smell most of the time.

Hell, when was the last time
you went out of your way to shower and put on fresh socks
BEFORE going for a run?

I know the shapes of your toes,
the ridges of your callouses
and new-forming blisters.

I know that your third toes, curling inward toward some
unknown destination
are called “hammer toes”, more severe on your left
than your right foot.

I know you rub your left hammer toe after long runs
and sometimes the nail turns black and blue,
eventually falling off,
leaving more tenderness for me to avoid bruising.

But I am only as good as my makers- textile factory in Korea, Indonesia,
this one- China.
I am only synthetic fibers woven by machine,
stitched in the fastest of ways,
less human hands, less time.

I am light weight and dry fast.
This allows me to not get as mildew as your others.
I know them, my competition, I lay beside them in the closet, smell their foot-rubbery-stink while you sleep.

You really should wash them one of these days- like
that time you put me in the washer after going for a muddy,
slip-sliding adventure.
But you waited awhile, over a whole week,
mud and bits of grass and gravel,
stuck to my outsides, gritty against my insole,
jutting out between my tread.
You let that crud get baked on til I was dry, pastey, flaking off dirt
in every step yet never getting clean.

Finally you threw me in the washer,
a deluge I’d never seen,
even after many outings in Seattle winter.
I was submerged and splashed and tossed and turned.
And that swivel-turney-thing in the middle- it
abused me! Finally, when I thought I could take no more, it was over.
You removed me, let me dry under the heating vent on the white carpet
then took me for a long, redeeming jaunt.
The next weekend, when out for a group run,
all your friends gave me compliments!
You should know, you can put me back in that stupid washer anytime.

Sometimes I dream of speaking
telling how I long to be treated as nicely as other articles of clothing:
that vest you only wear on special occasions, like weddings.
I’ve seen you standing in front of the mirror, looking so proudly,
the way it drapes your shoulders.
Or that blue button-down you actually care enough
to iron before hanging up.
Or any of those favorite hoodies,
I’d love to keep you warm in coffee shops,
or every once in awhile, fall asleep with you while you read,
light still on, forgotten to brush your teeth.
I dream of not being sheer utility:
Work-horse step after step.
Last weekend, I took you 13.1 miles in less than 2 hours.
I cradled your sinking arches when you were tired,
shielded flesh from broken glass on pavement,
never got too tight on the metatarsal,
hugged your Achilles tendon and gripped you like a glove.
I live to make contact between you
and the outside world a delight- smooth, a science and an art.

I exist so you can skim the surface of this earth and be safe
while taking each unique, wondrous step.

Do you ever think of me with affection
long after I’m unlaced?

Found Notes

There's something mysterious about finding a note on a yellow slip (read: old-school message slip, that is thin, yellow paper, with one side saying in typewriter-like font:
Memorandum of Call
To:
_______________________

You were called by: You were visited by:

of (organization)
_____________________________________
-- Please Phone --- Is Waiting To See You
-- Will Call Again --- Wishes An Appointment
-- Returned Your Call

______________________________________

Message:

- quote from movie at begin.



___________________________________


OK, yes, that's as best as I could approximately copy it. And yes, the printing does say "Wishes An Appointment" on that line.

Anyhow, this folded, slightly torn and folded piece of paper turned up from the bottom of my backpack today, attaching itself to my notebook. God knows I have found many things (usually missing sections of Luna bars and sometimes half-melted bits of chocolate that are pretty gross and unexpected) but also good stuff, like important ID cards I had thought I'd lost for an entire week that suddenly re-emerged from the depths. So I was not totally surprised to find a simple piece of paper. The type of paper (see above) and the contents are more curious.

On the back of the paper in handwriting close to, but I've decided after scrutiny, is NOT mine is scrawled:

There once was a man
with theses
About the origin of
species.
He chartered a ship
And took a long trip
And went off to measure
their pieces.

Perhaps this was just a random piece of paper that a friend had written down a quote they liked from the beginning of a movie and somehow their note ended up in my backpack. But I'm wondering, what movie? Perhaps a movie about Darwin? Other european exploration?
And what did the person like so much about the quote to write it down in the moment?
I guess I could google the quote to see where it came from...
The other alluring thing is that I would do something like this- I often scribble down titles, lyrics of songs, random quotes, signs that I pass that spark me, etc, so it kinda strikes me if this is not my handwriting- whose observations are they? And where did they get the old-school message paper to scribble upon?

Yes, deep ponderings for tonight.

RIP and New Starts

Hi Blog,
No, I will not apologize profusely. Yes, I know I have ditched you for way too long. I was inspired to write something last night that I meant to post, but got distracted wandering to another coffee shop, shooting an email to the Stranger and telling my friends the news. As with all things- there are endings and beginnings. Good bye to one of my fav cafe's and hello to you, bloggie blog, welcome back.

http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2011/03/09/online-coffee-company-1999-2011

Tonight I walked 10 blocks, lugging 17-inch too-heavy- laptop in tow, to get to one of my favorite spots to sip warm drink (soy hot cocoa, coffee, tea, etc) and write and email and enjoy the well-lit tables and nooks that make working so easy and friendly. When I got to the corner of 14th and Pine, I was greeted by an empty-looking Online Coffee Company with uncharacteristically loud music playing inside and someone holding the door. I hesitated towards the entrance, 'ooh, perhaps it's one of those times where they close the shop once a year to have an employee party or special event or something..' I mused. As I tried to edge back away from the door, the guy said, "We're closed but you can get a free beer."
"What?" I asked over the music.
"We're closed but do you want a free beer?" he asked invitingly.
I, in fact, did want a free beer but was startled by the question and remembered sadly that I am allergic to nearly all beer. I said with disappointment, "Thanks! but I'm allergic to beer."
"Well, do you wanna free coffee?"
"Sure!"
And with that, he flung open the door, introduced me to another barista who left the mingling group up front and went behind the bar to fix me a drink.
I looked a bit bewildered around the place...if it was a party, shouldn't there be more than like 4 people? And why did those people seem a bit melancholy? Maybe it was early and the party was not yet underway, it was only about 8pm. Just then the barista said something I could not hear as she made my drink.
"What?"
"I said, 'we're closing!'" she shouted.
"Um, ok...what do you mean, 'closing?'
"We're closed, this was our last day."
The finality of the word 'closing' finally hit me. "Um, so you mean closing, like forever closing?!" I looked incredulously at her.
The barista nodded, slow and heavy.
"But..what about the downtown shop? Or the one on Olive?"
"All closed," she shook her head.
"But I love this place. I come here all the time. It's the only place you can go if you don't have a computer with you and need to get online, and...I didn't even know this was happening.."
My voice trailed off as surprise turned to lethargy.
"I know, it was like home to me," the barista explained.
Now it was my turn to shake my head.

The barista indicated that the owner was the tall guy standing in the front group. I quickly took out my notebook, wrote a short good-bye-thank-you poem, handed it to the owner guy, thanked him for all the times I'd enjoyed his coffee shops and could swear I saw tears welling up in his eyes as I shook his hand.

Good-bye, Online Coffee Company.
Thank you, baristas for being so friendly and helpful. I will miss you. Lots of others in Seattle will miss you. And lots of travelers with and without laptops, will definitely miss you.
RIP

Thanks for all the good writing memories.

White Thanksgiving

Before the Macy's Day Parade
Before the turkeys and tofurkeys
were carved
Before the stuffing and mashed potatoes and pie
were sliced and gobbled
Before the wine and sparkling Martinelli
and milk and water and juice
were drunk
the sky turned dark
the air turned cold,
frigid
like what
you feel in
Chicago, New York, Milwaukee
the kind of cold
houses here
weren't built to withstand
Before doors were opened wide for relatives
and families piled into
sedans and mini-vans
ebbing their way
up and down I-5
Before we gathered round candle-lit
tables, held hands,
said grace,
proclaimed a top ten list of what
we are grateful for this year
Before we sat on the easy chair,
slouched into the couch
drowsy with tryptophan
falling asleep to the Cowboy's game
Before all of that...
there were beautiful, white flakes
descending, sometimes slow
sometimes in fierce
percussions
proving
once again
it does snow in Seattle
and we are never
quite prepared

Astronaut

Your orange jumpsuit
takes me by surprise
helmet under your arm
and messenger bag
swung across back

I smile so wide I can hardly see
escalator steps stretching
in front
tripping
I want to walk behind you all day
spectate the trail of smiles following

I wonder
when you were little
did you wish to fly those shuttles,
before the Challenger made you cry in front of the TV?

Do you long to trade
your two-wheels whizzing
weaving down 2nd avenue
wet pavement
deliveries to law firms
for trips to
different galaxies?

Or did your roommate
simply stumble across
the iridescent outfit
last week
at the thrift store
for cheap?


Influence: Wells Fargo Building, escalators, Friday before Halloween

Fresh Snow

When my feet could not warm up
turning white
then see-through almost blue
hot water
brought
them back to life

Fresh snow on the Olympics
simple
white, blue heavens
Adams
in the distance
how clear it is
after a storm
always
hindsight
to remind
yesterday's gray
was worth it