The Great Pumpkin

I don’t know why we do it to ourselves. It seems like every other weekend we’re forcing Gatlin into the car and making the long 5 hour drive to Starkville. This particular trip was worse than usual because I was still recovering from a freak freeze tag accident from the weekend before. I’ll just say that it involved me flying through the air like I had just slipped on a banana split. But, at least this time, we could let the windows down while blaring Stranglehold without suffocating from the humid Mississippi air. As we pulled into Starkvegas (don’t act like you’ve never called it that) late Friday night, the car’s thermometer read a cool 45 degrees. Football weather had finally decided to show up in the South.

After a quick preview of this year’s basketball team at The Hump Saturday morning, it was time to get over to The Junction and take advantage of this autumn atmosphere.

Even though I was 300 miles from New Orleans, I felt like I was still in south Louisiana as I quickly disposed of jambalaya, shrimp and crab gumbo, and crawfish dip. I then followed a trail of candy like James Woods down to the heart of The Junction where I stumbled upon a makeshift SEC graveyard directly next to our seemingly reserved tailgating spot. With all the hype surrounding this season, we got to share our recent scary stories with a few more folks than usual. After a few are you afraid of the dark stories, the day quickly transitioned to Halloween Eve night. We exited the stadium to find that the combination of the Bulldogs’ 7th win and the toxic fog surrounding our tent had transformed tailgaters into Werewolves of Fever Swamp (including Dr. Beavis/Mr. Webster).

Halloween finally arrived and the biscuits and gravy at Huddle House before the ride back to New Orleans turned out to be more of a treat than a trick. We made it back just in time to prevent seat soiling and began to prepare for the arrival of the Great Pumpkin. In an attempt to entice him to our personal pumpkin patch, we left out a large bowl of acorn squash and tasso bisque, and a poboy stuffed with pulled pork that I brined in apple cider, Steen’s cane syrup BBQ sauce, Munster cheese, and thinly sliced granny smith apples. We made sure to be as “sincere” as we could while watching the Black and Gold take on, well, the Black and Mustard Yellow. Erin even created a runway of pumpkin spice candles to ease his finding of our house. But just like Linus, the anticipation of the Great Pumpkin’s arrival was too much for her. We awoke the next morning, and swiftly ran into the living room. No toys. No candy. Not even a rock. We couldn’t find any evidence of the Great Pumpkin except for a half empty bottle of homemade pumpkin pie vodka. I’m blaming the dog- I knew he doubted the Great Pumpkin’s existence. Just wait until next year, Charlie Brown. You'll see.

The Joint, Pot Pies, and Avenue Pub

Even though I had just spent the final morning of summer trouncing around the sewage treatment plant in the 9th ward, food was on my mind. As I made my way down Poland Avenue towards the river in an attempt to check out Jack Dempsey’s, the half-and-half po’boy was all I could think about. As I approached the train tracks, I saw a hand written sign hanging above the door- “Closed: Power Outage”. Fortunately, this seafood joint just happens to be directly across the street from THE Joint.

While standing in line under a sign that read “always smoking”, I began to smell the smoky aroma of brisket, ribs, and pork. Once inside, which was actually hotter than the porch, I easily decided to go with the pulled pork plate. I took a seat at one of the makeshift patio tables and chugged down a whole styrofoam cup of sweet tea while trying to fight the urge to lift up the door to the smoker that was next to me for a quick appetizer before my food was brought out by a Marigny-looking girl. For some reason, I feel like I can’t eat pulled pork without cole slaw, and The Joint’s tangy version went well with their tender, juicy pork. The chunky potato salad was a non-mustardy version (thank God), and was slap-full of boiled eggs and herbs. Before heading back to the office, I capped off the best barbecue I’ve had since living in New Orleans with another cup of that delicious sweet tea.

Although I was still full from the ridiculously good pulled pork at The Joint, I gluttonously fought back the cats and went back for a second helpin’ of Erin’s famous homemade Chicken Pot Pie before we slowly rolled ourselves down busy St. Charles to a Brooklyn Brewery tasting.

We made our way over to Avenue Pub, THE beer bar of New Orleans, and ascended up the creaky stairs to the newly renovated upstairs bar. Avenue Pub has taken beer bars in New Orleans to a whole new level. They may not offer more drafts than other bars, but the taps are rotated and cleaned often, and they offer beers that you can't find anywhere in Louisiana. The bartenders are very knowledgeable and extremely helpful, and the Pub even offers review sessions for the Cicerone test (the beer equivalent of a sommelier). And if that’s not enough, the kitchen serves up some ridiculous food. Does life get any better than having a Stone Old Guardian Barley Wine with the St. Chuck Duck (cabernet sautéed duck, currant tapenade, granny smith apples, cheddar, and blue cheese on grilled sourdough) and homemade chips and guacamole?

Back to the beer, before I start trying to eat my fingers. After a brief history of Brooklyn Brewery's beginnings, Rich Nowak guided us through some of Brooklyn’s flagship and seasonal beers (thankfully it didn't turn out like the time I was in Ireland).

Brooklyn Oktoberfest
Brooklyn Post Road Pumpkin Ale
Brooklyn Brown Ale
Brooklyn Local 1
Brooklyn Detonation

The best of the night? Brooklyn Local 1, a Belgian Strong Ale. This ale is conditioned in champagne bottles and pours an extremely hazy golden color with a thick fluffy head. It begins with a slightly sweet, champagne-like mouthfeel (high carbonation), with hints of citrus, clove, and apples, and ends with a dry, slightly hoppy finish. As usual, Avenue Pub enhanced the beer experience with a free pint of your favorite beer from New York’s best brewery. The beers were good, but I knew it was time to go when a fellow taster ordered the Oktobefest-inspired duck sausage and German potato salad plate. After all, like these guys, it’s not pretty when I eat after midnight.