Friday, October 30, 2009


Having a frequent-flyer ticket burning a hole in your pocket makes you dream big. Where should I go? How about Florida's eastern coast, tagging along with my husband on a work trip? And how about a great husband that looks up local breweries and pubs? Why is this all questions?

Our first stop was at Amilia Island. Cute and touristy. We stopped at a Irish pub called O'Kanes to watch the Steelers kick the crap out of the Vikings. Luckily the food was good because they had their heads up their arses when it came to pouring me a snakebite. (They had Harp and cider on the draftlist, so I figured it was a given.) Instead I got quickly poured Guiness floating on cider. I picked up my husband's drink, not realizing that the other glass was actually for me. I stared at it for a while, with my head cocked like a puppy who has a question. Some places serve this calling it a black velvet, but that's actually Guiness and champagne. I don't want to bellyache so I sip the Guiness off the top and try my best not to mix them.
We did not order a second round but walked a block toward the beach to "The Palace Saloon" the oldest bar in Florida and had some Pirate Punch. (3 kinds of rum and some gin) I understand it's not beer, but it is tangy and tasty- and boozy-about half way through I was convinced I needed a souvenir t-shirt. The bar itself is totally haunted, my camera battery went to red while taking a shot of the handcarved bar. (See above!)
Not that far north? Hit up Meg O'Malley's in Melbourne. It's a great Irish place, not only do they know how to pour a snakebite but the corned beef is so tender it's hard to eat! The bar has great atmosphere, a great draft list, and after hearing about their Halloween bash I was bummed to move on...
I'm not sure why you would, but if you'd like to read about the trip and not just the beer, check out my husband's blog...and yes, sometimes he does call himself Karate Chop Jones. And yes, sometimes he does suggest that we name a child Karate Chop Jones, Jr. Oddly, our last name is not, in fact, Jones.



1 comment:

  1. I'll have to swing by that bar the next time I'm in Melbourne visiting my grandparents.

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