I grew up near Buffalo. We have never been shy about a little wintry weather, to say the least. Eight years of living in Syracuse, New York (aka the snowiest city in the world!) did little to dispel this notion. The discovery of the myriad seasonal ales that accompany this time of year only serves to further reinforce it.
Don't get me wrong - I don't enjoy skiing or snowmobiling. Or hunting, snow shoeing, sub-freezing temps, commuting in inclement weather, flu season, Ebeneezer Scrooge-types, wassailing, etc. You get the picture. I guess I like this time of year in spite of itself. I oddly romanticize it (at least until Ground Hog day or so) and that works for me.
All of that nonsense has little to do with this article in the Boston Globe:
There may or may not be a craft beer heaven, but this vibrant city wedged between Lake Champlain and the Green Mountains is close. Located at the epicenter of Vermont's microbrewery scene, Burlington is bustling with pubs and taprooms. Finding one that serves craft on draft is not only easy, it's the rule.This piece doesn't even begin give it justice, but just picture the scene with me: a snowy winter's night in Burlington. The wind is whipping in off of Lake Champlain, and fat flakes dance in the air. 'Tis not a fit night for man nor beast, but the cheery glow of the many pubs off the pedestrian mall in the city's downtown are calling. There are three brewpubs within walking distance and plenty of other likely destinations betwixt and between...
To prove it, we set out on our own pub crawl to see how many bars serving local brews on tap we could find before we ran out of steam. (Yeah, it's a tough job.)
The rules were simple. The crawl had to stay within walking distance of the intersection of Main and Church streets. Burlington beer aficionados readily provided a list of places to check out, but this crawl, as they so often do, progressed randomly.