At the behest of a most lovely female, an excursion was planned around cupcakes.  The impetus being an apparently highly sought after cupcake brand called, Scratch cupcakes, located in Ephrata.  The thought of cupcakes, admittedly, doesn’t blow my hair back.  Ergo, I sought to bundle this activity with an item of which I have great interest.  By this point the obvious answer is craft beer.  The Ephrata trigger immediately reminded myself of a random sunny day excursion to St. Boniface brewing company in the same city.

As many random and spontaneous ideas are given to do, these initial plans sprouted adjunct plans.  The proposition arose to visit the Lancaster Central Market.  I have been in search of ingredients, local and organic specifically, to use in my newfound brewing endeavors.  Once located, the market was positioned a mere 500 feet away from a favorite brewery of mine, Springhouse.  As these Kismet elements came into focus, the makings of a magical day trip became clear.

While crowded and stifling, the market offered several delicious gems.  I enjoyed a long john with maple icing topped with a duo of crispy bacon strips.  At this same stand I purchased a, later to-be discovered, insanely delicious shoo fly pie.  My search for additives and spices was unsuccessful however as the one stand I wished to visit was continually beset by eager patrons who formed a constant line.  This made it unconducive to a brewing neophyte wishing to browse and casually inspect wares.

The brisk wind cooled our flushed faces and  gently propelled our jaunt to SpringHouse Taproom.  The bright orange lined micro-taproom was surprisingly bustling given the 11:45am hour.  Given the excellent arrangement of sample offerings, and my esteemed travel companion’s need to achieve the Top of the Morning badge on untappd, we ordered a delicious wheel of craft beer.

One of the things that I love about Springhouse, beyond the quality of the beer they brew, is the value you get at the taproom.  Many establishments balk at offering tasters of beer.  Many charge different dollar amounts for a 5oz sampler.  Some places flat-out refuse to let anyone try a sip or two.  All of these practices are, understandably, completely at the discretion of the business owner and what he/she feels is best for the business.  I love SpringHouse’s approach, $6 for 5 samples and $1 each for any additional ones.  This allows people to enjoy a broad array of the types of beers available and still not have to commit to drinking an entire glass of something they may not really enjoy.  The value continues with their full glass offerings to further make clear the direction they have taken with this approach.  Non-samples are poured in imperial pints.

Though it may be difficult to ascertain from the pictures, the imperial pint is a 20oz glass compared to a standard 16oz glass.  Springhouse does offer a 10oz half pint as well for those not wishing to engage in an entire 20oz experience.  For those that love their offerings, all of these options present attractive, value-conscious potential when enjoying a delicious craft beer.

As the first samples are savored, and the busyness remarked upon, I glance to my left to grasp the scope of the fullness of the room when my scan is arrested by the small table positioned near the kitchen.  There sit two, assumed by proximity to two sub six year old girls, parents.  The girls busy themselves with celery and various smuggled vittles as their oblivious parents sip away.  Neither parent is having a sample 5oz glass, no, they are each having an imperial pint.  My lingering gaze is insignificant as they stare glassy-eyed at the hockey game projected before them.  I draw myself away from the spectacle and return to conversation centered around the inanity of the biathlon and the samples in front of me.  

After sipping through a few of the samples, and taking a few glances back at the family, I notice a curious thing.  They shockingly have fresh beers. And the beers fresh beers are full imperial pints.  And at this point I am a bit appalled. I am capable of thinking and behaving and making choices for my own well being.  I am also capable of applying this behavior to those for whom I feel immediately responsibility.  I can’t fathom taking another persons well being into my hands if I am intoxicated.  That certainly seemed they direction these parents were taking.  But of course, I should mind my own business, what place is it of mine to concern myself with the actions of others? After all, I deem myself a non-judgmental person.  It would be exceedingly unfair to selectively apply a supposedly prejudicial feeling.

This unsettled  state continues until the family leaves, and are replaced by yet another family.  This family is slightly more “reasonable.” The patriarch has full pints, and the matriarch has the half-pints.  The interesting element is the age of the child.  The father shoulders a back harness designed for a non-walker.  Which, indeed, is the case. The child sits perched lackadaisical and limp-necked on the knee of the mother while the father gawks at a patriotic failure on the television.  I shrug off my disgust and prepare for the arranged cupcake node in the journey.

After intense frustration, this cupcake mecca has finally come into view.  Apple maps is the clear loser in this Scratch-cupcakes-seeking process.  Our journey followed Apple maps direction and ended up a true 10 miles off course.  An immensely unhelpful cupcake staff, capable of gouging $2.50 for a two-bite cupcake, was horribly poor at providing directions.   Thankfully I applied Googlemaps which took us directly to the shop.  Unimpressed, and aghast at what people will pay for a cupcake, the next stop was close.

A yellow glow tinged skirt to our next destination was halcyon and serene.  The arrival at the firehall was achieved like a surfer riding a wave skillfully and calmly to shore.  Our wave was golden, warm light that was sharp contrast to the grey, dismal winter recently suffered through.

St. Boniface has established itself recently on a very small and local scale. My first draft of theirs was experienced at the Brass Rail beverage and deli.  My first in person  visit made amazing by the quality of the beer.  I recall meeting some interesting new acquaintances and a piercing sunburst in my eyes through the gaping garage style 322 facing windows.  Yet, the environs were rather warehouse like and homely.

Naught had changed since.  This visit was a bit more tense following the scratch cupcake debacle.  Any animosity would surely change with this artisan offering.

And the quality of these craft beer selections, with names like Paideia, Black Currant Stout, 3LB Ipa, and Libation, surely would calm any cupcake induced aggressive inclinations.  The first sip nearly did so until the rightward glance, deliberately avoiding the apologetically wide and pouting eyes, alighted on the familial quartet of which the father figure quaffed a full pint.  The mother languidly observed the pre-pubescent progeny as they picked at their fingernails wishing they had a phone with which to superficially connect to a being that understood what it felt like to gaze into a black hole future.

It happens in all places that craft beer is served.  I’ve sat with a few craft beer enthusiasts at Al’s of Hampden that were sitting their grandson. He was running around the place while the guardians justified the hardship of passing the buck and the incongruities of rich vs. poor in the justice system.  I have spent several sun-drenched days on the porch at Troegs in palaver attempting a response to a poignant question whilst a ragamuffin shrimp caroms off the picnic tables.   Banshee like utterances arrest my calm even on short visits when I only wish a quick pint and a growler fill at the Troegs bar.

I critique most strongly the places that are nearby.  The truth seems apparent that any brewery and also restaurant/bar invite this patronage.  None would question taking kids and family to Applebees. No query arrises with Olive Garden.  These aren’t craft beer destinations though.   The brewery atmosphere seems to be that hallowed group.  Is the VFW a place to bring kids? Who would answer yes? Is the next brewery/food truckery the perfect spot to hang out at 4:00pm on a Saturday?

I’ve often experienced craft beer days in the Philadelphia area.  At not a single one have I seen a child.  I don’t believe that makes either place superior in one way or another. Im just a bit surprised at the apparent lenience in the craft beer scene from one location to another.

I love craft beer.  I love to go to new locations to try different styles and to talk to new brewers and new locals. I really enjoy a new environment and a particularly interesting adventure.  Though, I don’t enjoy being concerned about whether a 5 year old will make it home ok. I don’t like the fact that a barely walking toddler will be sitting directly behind the enthusiast who just had to try every new brew that he had missed since his last attendance. I respect the openness and business accommodating approach that takes a hands off view on these things.  I just wish people, brewers and patrons alike, would think and care just a little bit more.

Humbly yours,

J