Of elephants and ales

On a dusty May evening in Birmingham, I set out to find a local brewery. Nancy was at a work retreat and left to my own devices, I plotted a course for a happy hour beer. Alabama opened up its craft beer laws about a decade ago and had undergone a boom, with several promising brews now sold in Nashville. Birmingham was not a challenge to navigate thanks to its gridded streets. After crossing several sets of railroad tracks, I entered the rebounding Avondale neighborhood, crowned by a beautiful urban park and rich with artisan businesses.

The Avondale Brewery filled out a brick building that once included a top-floor brothel. Avondale was once a city of its own, a mill town later annexed by Birmingham. Avondale Park once housed a former circus elephant named Miss Fancy, and Avondale Brewery themed its beers around her and the neighborhood.

But when I arrived, the block had no power. If I had cash, they could serve me. I didn't so I circled a 10-block area in a fruitless bank hunt. Down the street from the brewery, I found a gas station with an ATM. Cash in hand, it was time to sample.

The friendly bar staff put up with my indecision. With six beers in their standard lineup and a strong stable of seasonals, I had trouble choosing my two pours. But I had to start with Miss Fancy's Tripel. At 10 percent ABV, Miss Fancy's packs a wallop, but what else would a beer honoring an elephant do? The ale has a big orange and lemon bouquet and creamy textures that grew over time. A fine strain of coriander and a few notes of tangerine

After my first pour, the beers came from plastic cups because of the power outage and a lack of clean glassware. No one blames the brewery, and the second beer had too much flavor to be limited by its vessel.

Choosing between the standard saison and a cherry version brewed for spring, I picked the Peach Saison, an beautiful Southern representation. Yes, Avondale had three saisons to pour, immediately making me jealous that is was not my neighborhood brewer. Its peach saison has brilliant fruit and some mild sour notes, although it is by no means a lambic. Flavors included lemon pepper, cracked grains and wheat. For fruits, there's an undercurrent of melon (cantaloupe, perhaps) and closing notes of mango.

At lunch the next day, I paired my burger with Spring Street Saison.  The lemon grain textures and coriander notes have more strength in this medium-bodied ale. It has a nice herb and spice aftertaste. Easy to quaff, Spring Street Saison also has notes of peach and tangerine, but they are subtle compared to the peach saison. Were it available around the corner, I would be quite pleased. 

Avondale does not bottle its wares, but I'm hopeful that its fine brews will land on Nashville taps soon.

For an encore, I visited Hop City, a bottle shop with an intimidating selection. With dozens of taps for growler pours and samples, the retailer had everything under one roof.

I plucked a few gems not easily found in Nashville, including Caracole Amber (Nancy drinks from a Caracole chalice and had never tasted the beer), Shane's Big DIPA from South Carolina and Birmingham's own Snake Handler, an excellent double IPA from Good People Brewing. I could have spent hours and a fortune snaking through those aisles.

Then again, I could have spent hours at the Avondale Brewery alone.