The Great Taste of the Midwest is today. It is the best beer fest of them all, and Madison, Wisconsin is awesome, too.

As I'm reminded while scrolling through the Twitter feed, today is the Great Taste of the Midwest in Madison, Wisconsin -- my favorite beer festival as staged in a city where I'd love to live if not for a lifelong indifference to capital accumulation.

New Albanian Brewing Company was a part of GTMW for 10 years or thereabouts, and it was "great" fun. Following are two posts, both of which previously appeared at my Potable Curmudgeon blog: First an essay from 2016 (beware dated information), then photos from 2011.

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October 10, 2016

AFTER THE FIRE: The Great Taste of the Midwest is the best beer fest of them all. 

For the second weekend of October, we went to Wisconsin to escape New Albany’s annual Harvest Homecoming festival. While in Madison, Fred Swanson joined us on Saturday afternoon for a couple of beers.

Fred’s been an organizer of the Great Taste of the Midwest beer festival from the start, and his official title these days seems to be “brewery liaison.” All it really means is that Fred and other members of the Madison Homebrewers and Tasters Guild work year-round to stage a bucket-list-quality beer gathering. They’re to be thanked and venerated for doing so.

The New Albanian Brewing Company participated in the Great Taste from 2005 through 2014, and I was on hand for perhaps seven of these appearances. NABC has dropped out the past two Augusts, which I find regrettable, but can do absolutely nothing about.

Que sera sera … and so it goes ... with this and so many other avenues in life.

Chatting with Fred back in wonderful Madison served as a reminder of those good times. It also got me thinking about the notion of beer festivals in a general sense. What follows is an amalgam of several previous ruminations, building to shameless praise for the Great Taste.

That’s as it should be.

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Let’s begin during the halcyon days of my youth in Southern Indiana, when summer always brought a profusion of outdoor beer festivals.

So did fall, winter and spring.

At 17 years of age, looking more like 13, living at home, ducking prying eyes and requiring divine intervention to get served at rarely obliging package stores, natural settings constantly beckoned.

Priority was placed on those patches of isolated farmland belonging to folks who didn’t know or care that we’d found someone older to procure the cheapest swill possible, borrow a steel tub otherwise used to hydrate future beefsteak, buy ice, and await the grapevine-laden onslaught of teenagers who’d learned there was a field party abruptly in progress.

When it rained, we got soaked; not the worst conceivable outcome in hot weather, especially if any girls bothered to come -- which was seldom.

Every now and then, a measure of transcendence was achieved, and an enterprising reader might insert one of Bob Seger’s nostalgic AM radio hits to accompany this narrative, although I never liked his music very much after “Katmandu,” heard for the first time – where else? – at a summertime outdoor beer festival in the Knobs, with any style of beer you wanted for thoughtful sampling so long as it was Falls Sh(expletive)y, and tunes like Seger’s blaring from the subpar radio of a car stuck axle-deep in a muddy field littered with cigarette butts and spent plastic cups.

Decades have passed, and nowadays, lying about one’s age generally implies a downward revision of chronological information on Facebook. Falls City, our illicitly old-fashioned lunch pail lager, went away – and then reappeared with a craft nouveau makeover. It's not an expletive any longer.

Outdoor beer festivals have evolved considerably, too, bearing little resemblance to the midsummer’s night screams we staged during the presidency of Jimmy Carter – who, after all, legalized homebrewing, but probably never experienced the nuzzle of a well-turned beer bong in the steamy July drizzle.

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As befits the era of “craft” beer’s ascendancy, today’s outdoor beer festivals take place in summer – and also in fall, winter and spring. They’re devoted to the exaltation of contemporary brewing, and follow a common template.

Ideally, breweries and wholesalers provide a diverse selection of beers, and when possible, brewers and beer sales representatives will be on hand to answer questions and provide insights. A festival entry fee covers numerous, if not always truly unlimited, wee tastes of these many beers.

Local purveyors vend food, and musical entertainment typically deriving from the rock, pop, blues and bluegrass spectrum is offered, although just once I’d love to hear a string quartet performing modern chamber compositions, or a rollicking Klezmer band covering the Ramones.

As billed, “craft” beer festivals enhance the genre’s visibility through heightened consciousness and increased recognition. They also give back to the community by supporting chosen charities – and if they don’t, suspicion is fully warranted.

Reduced entry prices for designated drivers and the encouragement of moderation theoretically illustrate that beer consciousness and social conscience go together like espresso beans and imperial stout.

In Louisville, the scrum known as Brew at the Zoo probably remains the largest outdoor “craft” beer festival. Keg Liquors Fest of Ale is the best, with props to Louisville Independent Business Alliance’s annual local brewfest and Tailspin Ale fest, although the latter are partly indoors and partly outside (in Louisville Slugger Field and a Bowman Field aircraft hangar, respectively).

Speaking personally, my favorite festive rite of summertime beer held in an outdoor setting takes place each year on the second Saturday in August: It’s the Great Taste of the Midwest, in Madison, Wisconsin.

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The Great Taste of the Midwest is 30 years young, and has been directed from inception by the Madison Homebrewers and Tasters Guild. It is justifiably celebrated throughout Craft Beer Nation. There are more than 150 breweries in attendance, serving samples of 1,000 beers for five hours to more than 6,000 attendees who congregate amid the pleasing greenery of Olin Park on the shore of Lake Monona.

For the participating brewers, who occupy a finite number of display slots and abhor the thought of losing their place in line, the Great Taste is no ordinary festival gig. Brewers bring their “A” teams to Madison, and few beer festivals inspire such good-natured competition, with rare ales and lagers aplenty, and limited releases occurring throughout the afternoon.

(As a side note, Fred remarked that one brewery recently eschewed the practice of hyping “special limited releases” in favor of organizing its everyday core lineup in precisely the same teasing manner: “At 4:00 p.m. – Kӧlsch,” or some such. That’s wickedly appropriate).

Lucky ticket holders cherish these liquid rewards, and fortunate they surely are, because to be sampling within the compound means beating considerable odds. The Great Taste of the Midwest sells out months in advance, and last-minute road trips are discouraged unless you have a guaranteed “in.” For those lacking ducats, there’s a thriving “resale” market under the trees near the festival entrance, and of course, the usual proliferation of on-line scalpers’ bazaars.

There simply is no equal to the Great Taste. It is savory and savvy, its clientele customarily well-behaved, and the organizers among the friendliest and most efficient you’ll find anywhere. Best of all for an unreconstructed social democrat like me, the state capital has a noticeably leftist tinge, so much so that Wisconsin residents of a more right-leaning persuasion routinely refer to the city as the People’s Republic of Madison.

Consider this:

Since this IS Wisconsin, children whose attending parents wish their children to sample beer must pay the full admission price. Parents of consuming children cannot allow their children to ask for pours. The parent must hand the minor the drink and must remain with the minor at all times. No exceptions!

In Indiana or Kentucky, we'd be in jail for this.

When your number comes up at a future Great Taste ticket lottery, plan ahead. Reserve hotel rooms early, and save time for the proliferation of fine breweries in Madison (Great Dane, Ale Asylum, Vintage, Next Door, Karben4, One Barrel, Rockhound, Wisconsin Brewing, and on, and on) as well as nearby, including Capitol in adjacent Middleton, Grumpy Troll and Lake Louie, and New Glarus’s namesake brewing shrine roughly 25 miles south.

On the day of the show, start by attending the incredible farmers’ market, which surrounds the Wisconsin capitol on all four sides and features edibles ranging from ostrich jerky to the freshest squeaky cheese curds on record. Bring a camp chair and some sunscreen, and drink plenty of water during your session. Study the program, and target your choices, because some of them won’t last long.

The Great Taste of the Midwest represents the thinking man’s way of drinking. Paraphrasing Winston Churchill, you can take more from the Great Taste than it takes from you.

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August 13, 2011

Great Taste Roadtrip 2011: Saturday, August 13 (GTMW).

No comments ... just a crazy, fun and enriching day by Lake Monona with the Craft Nation faithful.

Targeted exile: It was the best Harvest Homecoming ever, both here and in Wisconsin.

Last Thursday morning we drove to Madison, Wisconsin, arriving back home earlier this afternoon.

This journey comes down to two fundamental facts.

1. We both richly enjoy Madison, Wisconsin.

2. We both have little use for Harvest Homecoming.

As for the former, in the coming days I'll backdate photos and commentary in an effort to partially explain the attraction.

With regard to the latter, I'm no longer involved with a downtown business (or as in 2015, seeking elected office). Beyond reforming the Harvest Homecoming behemoth, my personal interest in the festival wasn't ever great.

To me, it's an 800-lb gorilla, and likely to remain one for the foreseeable future.

So be it.

I'll continue to do my little bit to support year-round local businesses. Beyond that, the swill-laden road is long, the windmills are mighty big, and tilting at them makes the arms grow tired.

In all seriousness, when it comes to such celebrations, New Albany should have exactly what it wants, good and hard. Concurrently, a nice autumn weekend out of town seems an elegant and fair solution for the Confidentials.

If you can't beat them and have no intention of joining them, then bolting Nawbany for a road trip is the next best thing.

Cheers -- and why aren't the streets running two ways?

Did Irv self-immolate in the punkin patch during our absence?

Harvest Evasion 2016 in Madison WI, Day Four: Brunch, Beer and Botanicals ... and mustard, too.

It was Sunday in Wisconsin's state capital, and another drop-dead gorgeous autumn day.

Well, they're better here than in my beer.

Following the morning hyper-caffeination ritual at Barriques, the coffee shop and wine bar located a mere minute away from our residence, we retrieved the car and drove north on Park to University Avenue, and then due west to the Great Dane Hilldale for a brewpub brunch, as detailed here:

All hail Sunday: Liquid brunch at Great Dane Hilldale, liquid lunch at Capital Brewery.

Capital Brewing's beer garden wasn't yet open on arrival, so there was time for a walk, which brought us to an attraction we'd missed during previous visits, the National Mustard Museum (founded 1986).

No visit to Southern Wisconsin and the Madison Area is complete without spending some time in Middleton … the home of the internationally infamous National Mustard Museum. Some call it the “Condimental Divide”. It’s where thousands of mustard enthusiasts each year leave those ketchup-eaters at the pass, and reach the summit of mustard love at the Mustard Museum.

The centerpiece collection at the Museum is an ever-growing display of prepared mustards, currently more than 5,566 jars, bottles, and tubes from all 50 states and more than 70 countries. Also on display are hundreds of items of great mustard historical importance, including antique mustard pots, mustard tins, vintage mustard advertisements, and assorted mustard memorabilia.

It's a fun place with mustard and puns in equal measure, and the admission is free. How I failed to purchase a Poupon U. sweatshirt is a complete mystery.

After beers at Capital, it was time to visit the Olbrich Botanical Gardens, an experience enhanced immeasurably by the gorgeous weather.

Stroll 16 acres of outdoor gardens featuring stunning landscapes and Midwest-hardy plants. Visit the tropics in the Bolz Conservatory, filled with exotic plants, flowers, orchids, birds, and a waterfall. Outdoor Gardens are free and open daily.

Still stuffed with brunch, I thought to investigate a brewpub of recent vintage called Next Door, and it was solid. We enjoyed beers and nibbles, and there's more here:

A couple of beers at Next Door Brewing Company in Madison, Wisconsin.

By now it was mid-afternoon. The plan was to rest, eat dinner relatively early and pack for the drive back while watching the second presidential debate. I decided to walk down to Rockhound for one last beer:

How Rockhound Brewing's smoked hop pale ale and the Super Bowl in the year 2000 connect in my cranium.

A final memorable meal came at Ramen Station, yet another top quality restaurant within a short walk of our Airbnb. Returning to home base, the debate had just started, and watching it was the single worst decision we made on the trip.

Early Monday morning at 5:45 a.m., the seven-hour drive commenced to a New Albany street grid mercifully returned to its normal configuration. Spending the weekend in Madison made for my favorite Harvest Homecoming ever, an evasion I hope we'll be able to repeat in future years.

If you can't beat the 800 lb. gorilla ... then run away.

Harvest Evasion 2016 in Madison WI, Day Three: Farmers Market day, with a martini and taqueria for good measure.

Monona Bay. 

Saturday morning dawned cloudless and pleasingly chilly, with temperatures in the forties. The itinerary stipulated coffee and muffins at Barriques, followed by a walk to the Dane County Farmers Market, which surrounds the state capitol on all four sides, with people, wares and merriment spilling into nearby streets -- especially State Street, pointing the way to the University of Wisconsin.

Somehow, in a way that defies native New Albanian logic, Madison's premier farmers market thrives entirely on its own merits, completely absent "infrastructure improvements" that serve mostly as window dressing for organizers and mean nothing to the vendors or their customers. There isn't even a Port-A-Let that I'm aware of, and market is well-attended, even in October.

So, as always, I found the squeaky cheese curds.

As always, delicious.

With a Food & Dining Magazine writing deadline looming, and my story about Louisville's new HopCat beer bar due the following week, it seemed reasonable to have lunch (with beers) at HopCat Madison for the sake of comparison. It's a few blocks down State Street from the farmers market. This is where we met Fred Swanson, as detailed here. Beers and snacks were just fine, and the conversation superlative.

Later in early evening, after the (now warmer) walk back and a recuperative nap, Diana suggested a cocktail at the Sheraton Madison bar -- for old times' sake, as we stayed there so many times during the Great Taste of the Midwest. A full account is here.

Saturday's final stop was dinner, and required the commute on foot of approximately 25 yards from our lodging. We'd already investigated the Taqueria Guadalajara, and Fred offered a recommendation. Super stuff, and my dish came with a roasted pepper that brought tears of joy to my eyes. I'm surprised we couldn't smell the taqueria from the house.

Have I mentioned how much we enjoy Madison?

Harvest Evasion 2016 in Madison WI, Day Two: The non-negotiable pilgrimage to New Glarus, brewery and town.

When there's a combined coffee shop and wine bar only a minute's walk from your Airbnb, that's where breakfast is: Barriques on Park Street in Madison, and a fine way to begin the day -- with espresso, not pinot noir, although be aware that this establishment boasts an amazing list of $10 wines.

Friday morning's destination was New Glarus, a small, tidy Wisconsin town situated roughly 25 miles south of Madison. It bills itself as "America's Little Switzerland," albeit lacking Alps, but with flair enough that folks who know nothing about "craft" beer still visit for the Old World charm.

We indulged in a round of thrift shopping on the route out of Madison, and I disgorged this perfect $1.00 musical accompaniment for the drive. Think oom-pah with yodeling, and you'll be close.

It's hard to imagine many sightseers in New Glarus leaving without learning about the big (and growing) brewery on a hilltop overlooking town.

This is the "new" New Glarus Brewing Company facility, opened a decade ago, where more than 200,000 barrels of beer are brewed yearly. The "old" plant just down the road adds more than 50,000 barrels to the total, all of which is available only in the state of Wisconsin.

To place these numbers in context, consider that the state of Indiana only recently has breweries even approaching the 50,000 barrel level.

New Glarus Brewing Company is a case study in excellence, and this is true in so many ways that enumerating them in depth would require a university business course term project, something far beyond this brief sketch.

Nonetheless, an overview includes the uniform quality of the beer itself, the decision some years back to distribute only in Wisconsin, the beer tourism approach embodied by the hilltop brewing shrine, the architectural design of this shrine, employee ownership of the company and female management of it ... and I've only scratched the surface.

This year was our fourth or fifth visit to the brewery, which we'd toured previously. This time the sampling bar and gift shop proved sufficient, with a beer enjoyed outside in the garden. In recent years, this comfortable expanse has been augmented with mock abbey ruins and other clever amenities like the rinsing station, a retrofitted vintage console from a German brewhouse.

As always, the final stop was the takeaway beer warehouse. To visit the brewery during the second weekend in August on the occasion of the Great Taste of the Midwest is to learn that incoming brewers from out-of-state emulate swarms of locusts, generally removing more ought-after brands from the shelves. Going in the off-season (those 51 other weekends) is better.

I pay little attention these days to beer ratings, but at least several of New Glarus's renowned fruit-based sour ales were available for purchase, along with plenty of the brewery's delicious styles from the German pantheon: Staghorn Octoberfest, Zwickl, Two Women Lager and Uff-da Bock.

I'm glad they had two-wheelers.

After loading the trunk at New Glarus Brewing, and before considering where the luggage would be stowed on the return trip, it was time descend the hill and proceed to Glarner Stube, a perpetually packed Swiss-German restaurant with New Glarus beers on tap and sauerkraut the way it's supposed to be, this being a particular passion of mine when dining out. My choice of beer was Spotted Cow, because ... when in Rome.

Out on the main street of New Glarus, I had fun walking back and forth in the crosswalk, from one side to the other, experiencing the amazing sensation (for a New Albanian) of having drivers actually yield to pedestrians, just the way they're supposed to do, but don't, because Irv Stumler says no one in our sity speeds or drives hazardously.

Later, back in Madison, there was cocktail hour at the Wonder Bar Steakhouse and a much needed nap before dinner. Located a short walk away from the pad, Mini Hot Pot was the choice for our evening meal, and make no mistake: We need one of these in Louisville.

The new Mini Hot Pot on South Park Street is particularly inviting on a cold, windy, gray day. The small restaurant’s specialty is bubbling broth in individual hot pots, served with colorful plates of meats and vegetables that diners cook themselves, fondue style.

Owner Vincent Chang explained that hot pots are traditional in northern China, where the winter weather is similar to Wisconsin’s. Historically, he said, an entire family would gather around one boiling cauldron of seasoned broth, dipping in ingredients and sharing the soup.