Out With the New, In With the Old.

The Public House Brewing Company in Rolla, Missouri, chose to go with a "soft opening" on Thursday, December 16, give or take a pre-party or two. Josh and Josh went the soft route--in other words, with no promotion or advertising--as a way to ease their business into the community. The idea is to open the doors, see who shows up, and iron out problems as they arise without much embarrassment.

Here is what happened: They ran out of beer in less than a week.

Thanks to word of mouth, about 100 people showed up the first day. The next day, most of those same people showed with five friends. And so on.

I've been talking about this brewery because of its emphasis on session beers, which is sadly almost unique in the U.S. these days. Public House's early success suggests, at least for this corner of the Ozarks, that their approach has great merit. (It also suggests that the Two Joshes might want to consider expanding their tank capacity.)

So far Public House is making a Kölsch, a mild, a hoppy pale ale, and a stout. All were drinkable but the real winner for me was that toasted-bready, dryish, full-flavored mild weighing in at 2.5% strength. It might get darker than its current pale-amber look (second row from the back in the photo), but I dig the recognition that a mild should be much more than a stout's mini-me. And it comes in different colors. Just ask Ron.

Running out of product was no disaster for the Joshes, thanks to a clever guest tap policy with strength in Missouri-made craft beers. Thus they brought in some Tin Mill Doppelbock from Hermann to back up the Kölsch they released at midnight on New Year's Eve.

The Public House is at 600 North Rolla Street, just a few minutes off the Interstate. Consider a visit next time you're cruising Route 66 or flying down I-44. They promise they'll have enough beer for you.

Getting Schooled by the Fish.

From what I can tell, prolific draft and bottle lists are multiplying like bunny rabbits in big American cities these days. Which is cool. But when you find a place like John G's Bier Deck in a town like Washington, Missouri... Well, a man sleeps easier at night. It seems like everyone's well looked-after these days.

At the end of a hot-as-hell summer day it's hard to beat a hoppy glass of gold and a sweeping view of the Missouri River. There are usually 12 draft options and about twice as many bottles, and that's frankly all you need. Especially when there is strength in locally made beers, such as Schlafly of St. Louis and the excellent German-style lagers of Tin Mill in Hermann. Meanwhile John G's is a showcase for the beers of nearby Augusta Brewing, which only makes sense since they're owned by the same folks. More about them pretty soon.

My glass of gold is the Trout Slayer, my next nominee for Perfect American Beer.* It's got enough hop aroma, quaffability, and bright beauty that I can forgive it for being a filtered wheat beer. Like sausage, I don't always want to know how it's made. And at 4.7% strength it's got some usefulness.

You might not think Trout Slayer is a local beer here, and you'd be right. But it's all relative. Lewis and Clark passed right by this spot and went on to meet Indians in the Missoula Valley. Montana is just up the river. Shoot, their trout and ours are probably cousins.

*I've decided that the words "sessionable" and "craft" are implied in the word "perfect" and therefore redundant.

The Tin Mill: Proudly Bottom-Fermenting in Middle Missouri.

I'll be back home for a wedding next week. So Missouri and marriage are on my mind, besides Oktoberfest.

By the way, if you're in Missouri and want a taste of Oktoberfest, there's only one place to go: Hermann. Every weekend in October, a good chunk of the state descends on this little town to fully partake of its many wineries and solitary brewery. That brewery is a relatively recent development, and its name is the Tin Mill.

Housed in a former MFA feed store, the Tin Mill has an unusual mission: brew only the finest German-style lagers. Forget ales, there are enough of them in brewpubs across the country. Besides that, here is a town extremely proud of its German roots. A local microbrewery devoted to the Reinheitsgebot is just too perfect.

The good news: Its beers are mighty tasty. The Missus and I visited in June and tasted a few. Our favorite was the Tin Mill Pilsner – floral, grainy, crisply bitter and dry. I want some right now.

Hermann, by the way, is the same town where my wife and I got married. See how I bring it full circle? Too bad Tin Mill wasn't around then. Our families would have demolished several kegs of the stuff.

No, the wedding next week isn't in Hermann. It's in St. Louis. I won't complain: The reception is at the Schlafly Tap Room. Sorry, you're not invited.