Happy Hour In The Heptarchy: Yazoo Pale and Paw-Paws

by J.R.

It’s five past 5 across Conference III (leave work early, Colorado — you have our permission), time to hit bricks and get that freakin’ weekend started, am I right?

Of course I am.

It’s been a tough week for some of you so loosen your belt, pop a top, grab a spoon and stop being such a sourpuss. III Communication’s got good news for everybody.

The Particulars

yazoo-pale-aleWhat We’re Drinking: As of five minutes ago, The City Paper has hit its -30-. Suddenly, I work for two publications instead of three. Don’t feel sorry for me — I still have a job, unlike some folks I worked with and some folks at The Tennessean. One of the perks — if that’s the right word (it’s not) — of writing for a closing newspaper is that people say nice things about you.

And then, sometimes, people give you free stuff (notwithstanding that what they spent on said stuff could have been spent on advertising six months ago, but I digress). In the last three weeks, we’ve gotten a night out at the pub, chicken from Calypso Cafe, hot chicken from Nashville’s fifth best hot chicken joint, and beers from Blackstone.

This afternoon, the final send off came from Yazoo, our neighbors in The Gulch.

Stopping by their place is always worth it — should you visit Nashville this season and you should. My favorites are the Pale Ale and the Gerst, a reproduction of Nashville’s classic brew.

paw-paws2What We’re Eating: Early August will soon give way to mid-August and then September, when it starts to feel a little autumnal down here. And early fall is paw-paw season. Paw-paws are the largest American edible fruit — a deliciously custardy treat that combines the flavor of bananas and cantaloupes. They grow wild — it’s notoriously difficult to cultivate them, but the telltale site of spindly trunks topped by rusty yellow leaves in the early autumn is a pleasant thing to see on a hike in the woods. And take a look at this map — its endemic area covers damn near half Conference III country. Pick up a pawpaw in the woods or at a market. It means it’s almost time for hockey.

Reasons To Celebrate

Chicago: Man, major bummer about the dolphin at the Brookfield Zoo. At least you can build some solidarity with Colorado — a medical marijuana clinic is opening, just in time for the big food festival on the Navy Pier.

Your Weekend Jam: “Smoke” by Alkaline Trio

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Colorado: No Steak ‘n’ Shake? What kind of fresh hell is this? At least you have badass 10-year-olds who save their families with knowledge gleaned from…Mario Kart?

Your Weekend Jam: “Potion Approaching” by Arctic Monkeys

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Dallas: Loui Eriksson put his home on the market. Maybe Tyler Seguin can buy it? Or maybe he can line-up with the rest of these crazed ninnies at Trader Joe’s.

Your Weekend Jam: “House of Fun” by Madness

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Minnesota: Oh heck, you’ve got white-nose syndrome. Maybe by the time the 4-year-old mayor of Dorset can vote for himself, they’ll have that kicked.

Your Weekend Jam: “Bat Out Of Hell” by Meat Loaf

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Nashville: You’ll forgive me if I struggle to find good news in my hometown today. At least our fat cats are dieting.

Your Weekend Jam: “Nashville Cats” by Sugar & The Candyboys

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St. Louis: BFIBs are aghast at the accusation that the Holy Pujols could be a juicer. But the prairie chicken is making a comeback, so it balances out.

Your Weekend Jam: “DIY2K” by PUJOL

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Winnipeg: Dark times for the Bombers! But, my stars, are Manitobans buying the heck out of some houses.

Your Weekend Jam: “Bomber” by Motörhead

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