Horn Bar

There are TV commercials where the guy runs out of beer, and makes a halftime dash to the party store, and makes it back home with cold beer before the second half kickoff.

 This isn’t that story.

Last week, an old friend of Debbie’s, knowing her appreciation for a good beer, brought her a couple of bottles from a microbrew in Lexington, Kentucky.  www.kentuckyale.com

Kentucky Bourbon Barrel Ale is locally brewed beer aged in old oak bourbon barrels, and has the good taste of a good amber ale, along with the hint of the bourbon from the old oak barrels.  Perhaps not a desirable combination for a Bud or Miller Lite drinker, but  the beer was delicious, and Debbie and I  decided we needed to track some down.  We got the website from the label, and found that the closest distribution point of sale was near Cincinnati, in Covington, Kentucky.

As it turned out, we both had Saturday free, and a two hour drive on a beautiful fall day would be fun, so we left Lapel Saturday morning on our journey.   After a brief stop to load up on caffeine at Starbucks in Anderson, we headed out through the Indiana fall countryside, enjoying  what remained of the autumn leaf color change, as well as the many weathered farms and barns along the way.  I’m not sure if llamas are indigenous to Indiana, but we did pass a llama farm at some point.  Or were they Alpaca?

I hadn’t been through New Castle since I was in high school, so I didn’t know that there was a "Steve Alford All-American Motel" on Highway 3, with a giant basketball shoe in the front lawn.  I’m assuming that Steve does know about it.  As we passed through New Castle, I spotted a liquor store, and I wondered aloud if they might carry the beer we sought.  But I quickly commented that I would not want to find it here in New Castle.  The search and the journey were the objectives of the day, and the journey would be incomplete if we didn’t make it to Kentucky, at this point.

I don’t recall what time we arrived at Party Town, the mega-party supply store chain we had found online, but aside from the huge selection of bulk party favors and supplies that I breezed by on my way in, they had one of the largest selections of beers from around the world I’ve ever seen, outside of Sam’s in Chicago. www.samswine.com  It didn’t take me long to find the Bourbon Barrel Ale, but I lingered and browsed along the many regional beer aisles, and even stumbled onto a six pack of Carib Beer, a Caribbean beer I had enjoyed with a group on a beach on St. Marteens while on a cruise last February.  I warmed to the memory, until I wandered into their extensive walk-in beer cooler.

My sister, Kristin, had lived in Cincinnati years ago, and I called her on my cell to tell her I was near her old stomping grounds, and to tell her husband, Mark, that I’d found a beer he’d love.  She recommended that we should eat dinner at Montgomery Inn for ribs on the Ohio River.   When we checked out at Party Town, we asked for directions to Montgomery Inn, and the locals told us, if we wanted ribs, we should go to the local place, Walt’s Hitching Post.  So we did.

The original log cabin foundation of the building was built in the 1800s and is one of the oldest buildings in Kenton County. Story has it that two sisters converted the log cabin into the Hitching Post Restaurant in 1938, then sold it to Walt Ballinger (hence Walt’s) in the late ’40s. Bill Melton purchased the building from Walt’s widow in 1958 and kept the name while adding more dining rooms.  Sadly, Bill passed away this past spring, but his daughters continue to run the restaurant today.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that we were in for a memorable dining experience.   Our server, Judy, had to have been in her mid-sixties.  I say this partly because  she looked it, but mainly because she told us that she had been a waitress there for forty-two years!!  When we told her that we were from out of town, and this place had been recommended to us, she took control.

She said, "Well I’ve been here 42 years, and I know what’s good, so let me tell you what we’re gonna do.  You (Jay) are gonna order the Prime Rib, and you (Debbie) are gonna order our famous ribs, and then you’re gonna share them."   We didn’t dare defy her, so we agreed to her demands, and even went along with the suggestion of their reknowned white cole slaw, and their home fried potatoes, and sauteed onions as side dishes.

When another couple was seated after, but near us, and Judy took their orders in a more subdued and traditional fashion, I asked why she hadn’t told them what they were getting, and she said they were regulars, and she knew what they always got, so they didn’t get the Full-Judy.

In the end, the dinner was decent, but the atmosphere and experience were more than memorable.  As I walked toward the lobby door, a lady in an odd cowboy hat declared that she had just returned from a fox hunt.  Not sure I ever heard that in Detroit, but it might be normal thing in Northern Kentucky.  Nevertheless, it reminded me of a joke about a fox hat that I’ll save for another day.

The homeward trip was relatively uneventful, but Debbie and I talked the entire way back, just as we had on the way that morning.   It hadn’t mattered that an electrical short had disabled the radio awhile ago;  we wouldn’t have turned it on if it had worked. 

I thought about a new TV commercial for a family van that boasts that this van will bring traveling families back in touch with each other, by virtue of the multiple DVD viewing screens, and individual headphones.   Hard to imagine that previous generations were forced to ride in family cars that were not equipped with multiple DVD players, and families may have had to actually talk to each other.

(editor’s note….I can’t figure out why the font size changes at this point in this blog, and I can’t figure out how to change it.  The large font size has a unintended alarming effect.   It reminds me of when my oldest sister sends emails, and always uses ALL CAPITOL LETTERS.  I find myself excited, and hanging on every word, yet exhausted when I’m done reading.  Not that I’m not excited to read her every word.   Aw geez….where was I?)

Along the trip, Debbie and I talked about how friends and family might react to our four hour beer run. The search for the beer may have been the end game objective, but the day was more about the journey, the memories created, the laughs and smiles shared, and most importantly, quality time spent with someone you love.