I’m not opposed to yoga, never have been. It’s just something that Michelle got into and I decided to skip it to give us some space. Yoga came along as an idea for stress relief when we were still working in the group home. We bought a video, and I checked it out. While I could see its value, I didn’t dive in. Brewing was my therapy.
For a year or so, however, we’ve tossed around the idea of doing a tasting of some kind in conjunction with a class, workshop or retreat at Michelle’s studio, inspired by the likes of The Livery, which hosts yoga classes at their brewery and a Happy Hour Yoga event I saw on the Philly Beer Week agenda a while back.
Enter The Yoga Studio, in Winterset, Iowa. Michelle stumbled upon their take on the concept, and we committed to checking it out. It was a yin yoga class, which features poses that are held at length to do deep work on connective tissue. This was good for me and my jacked up back, and hurt so good. Like Michelle knowing she should read all of my book recommendations, I know yoga would be good for me. After last night, I think maybe I’ll try to stick with it.
It was BYOB (and healthy snacks), and following the class, we sat down and shot the breeze while chomping on appetizers and sorting our way way through the Three Philosophers that we bought, as well as a few wines that the other attendants contributed. I’ve always enjoyed Three Philosophers, and everything that Ommegang puts out. I also tried a Portugese vinho verde, which I thought was atrocious. Slightly petulant, I had a hard time naming what I was sensing, settling on “fruity celery” as a descriptor. Not what I want my wine to taste like. I also tried a Catawba from an Indianola winery, whose name I’ve forgotten. It was enjoyable enough, though I’ll stick with beer.
Our second reason for road tripping to Winterset, included checking out an Irish pub–The Little Dublin–we’d spied in the past. For a small town in Iowa, it was acceptable. They had Guinness and Bass on tap, as well as the usual macro-American suspects. In bottles they had Fat Tire, a couple of Breckenridge offerings and probably one or two safe picks like Shiner Bock and more macro. The atmosphere was sparse-Iowa-Irish. I went for a Breckenridge Avalanche, since it wasn’t the ubiquitous Fatty, and was brewed only some 700 miles from where I sat. We took in a little karaoke, and eased on down the road.
We had a nice evening, and I’m sure we’ll sort out a strategy to incorporate an event of this kind into the brewvana/Prairieland Yoga partnership…