Iron Abbey--if you are in/visiting the SE PA area.

I like to review good restaurants every now and again, just the way I review movies and books--you'll mostly get really good reviews from me, because I'm interested in pointing people to something good I've found. A place would have to be super-awful for me to give it an Internet-thrashing. So I want you to know: Iron Abbey is one of my favorite restaurants in the world. I am giving it a serious recommend.

Take my lunch experience today as part of the reason I love this place: they are a gastropub, which means the emphasis is on good food, but they have a beer list that is really comparable to Monk's Cafe in Center City (which is really damn good). So you really can't go wrong if you like some good food and some seriously great beer.

Me and the spouse started with the Mezze Platter as our appetizer, which is a generous spread of roasted peppers, prosciutto, salami, cheese, some absolutely fabulous fried green olives with blue cheese, hummus, pita, onions, water crackers, and....sheer deliciousness. The hummus was chickpea heaven. The manchego and Parmesan cheeses were good quality, as were the prosciutto and salami--this is a thing I look for in a proper anti-pasto: quality. It was a generous portion for two; my husband remarked that we really could have eaten just that and made a good lunch, and I have to say, we are both what you would call "good eaters". When a spread like this is accompanied with great beers like Fegley's Brew Works Mad Elf Reserve, which is a Holiday Ale with some really good use of "noggy" spice flavors and a heady, malty profile, or Southern Tiers' Unearthly IPA, which is a smooth, hoppy, crisp, brew of incredible drinkability for it's crazy-strong 10% ABV (that was what I was having--I am a sucker for IPA's--a total hop-head) you have a wonderful experience.

Then I had an awesome Blue Abbey burger--which won me over with conforming to some of my hard and fast burger requirements:

Good bread.

Actually cooked well-done when I said well-done.

Crispy, not chewy, bacon.

Cheese used as a flavor--not a cover (I hate when condiments smother!)

And the fries that accompanied it were flavorful and crisp, of the regular size (not steak or shoe string, but the in-between) and starch-bathed for crispness variety. They were a total "yum". I "boxed" half of the burger and most of the fries for a re-heated snack later. I also enjoyed, as my second beer, Port Brewing Company's Old Viscosity. This is a high-test Imperial Stout with strong flavor and a syrupy mouth-feel (Viscosity--indeed!) It's not a bad beer to have a dessert with--and I opted for flan. I'm a flan fan. The smooth, but rich and alcoholic flavor of the beer went really well with the caramel-custard of the flan. It was a major mouth-happy.

My spouse had the chili, which was pleasantly meaty and also quite flavorful. Because the Mad Elf was a strong beer, and he was the designated chauffeur, he declined a second beer. But I'm serious, when it comes to choosing beers at Iron Abbey--you could seriously make a day of it if you had someone else driving. There is plenty of novelty and truly tasty-sounding selections to be had if you are a beer hound--and I totally am! And even if your love of beer is just a wee thing, you will still enjoy the food: good portions, properly cooked, with great attention to the quality of ingredients. I definitely give them my seal of approval.

(And the service is always top-notch--another plus! And they are knowledgable more often than not about the beers they have, which is great if you aren't used to such a bodacious beer-menu.)

Hope for me yet?

Why Do Heavy Drinkers Outlive Nondrinkers?

The sample of those who were studied included individuals between ages 55 and 65 who had had any kind of outpatient care in the previous three years. The 1,824 participants were followed for 20 years. One drawback of the sample: a disproportionate number, 63%, were men. Just over 69% of the never-drinkers died during the 20 years, 60% of the heavy drinkers died and only 41% of moderate drinkers died.

These are remarkable statistics. Even though heavy drinking is associated with higher risk for cirrhosis and several types of cancer (particularly cancers in the mouth and esophagus), heavy drinkers are less likely to die than people who have never drunk. One important reason is that alcohol lubricates so many social interactions, and social interactions are vital for maintaining mental and physical health. As I pointed out last year, nondrinkers show greater signs of depression than those who allow themselves to join the party.

This is entirely weird. I'm not going to suggest this says anything positive about the habits of drinkers, except that I'm not liable to be a daredevil because as a practised toper I know my limits, and know very well it's hard enough to play pool and imbibe, let alone skydive or participate in parkour. But those straight edge folks are always up to something, thanks to the feelings of health and well-being they enjoy in the morning (what's that gag--"I feel sorry for those folks who don't drink 'cause when they get up in the morning, that's as good as they're gonna feel all day long"--probably Dean Martin). This lets them believe that climbing mountains and crossing streets are perfectly normal activities one should take for granted.

A practiced drunk takes nothing for granted. The floor could move. Furniture could decide to plot against you. Your e-mail account could be hi-jacked by the absinthe fairies. Shit happens. Naturally one wants to guard against it by staying in poorly-lit rooms away from loud noises and stupid people whenever possible. One wants to reconnaisance any new environ for potties and exits. And one looks for soft landings. It's educational--drinking is.

And if there is any truth to the idea the religious have of repentence being good for one, the biologically mandated repentance of the hangover at least makes your dedicated boozer more of a homebody than not. You don't decide to take up jogging, which is what did in Jim Fix (pounding the pavement is unhappy for throbbing heads) or fiddle about with steroids, since your liver is already tender. You are disinclined to especially overeat, it taking away from valuable alimentary real-estate that could fit a few beers, and the result of overeating having probably been broadcast against shining porcelain on a few occasions, anyway. One's taste for going a-roving diminishes apace, and although some take to fighting when in their cups, the majority of drinkers find a peace that passeth understanding, shantih, shantih.

And I'm not even sure that this post is entirely smart, or just a tribute to Kingsley Amis, or what, since I have, after all, been drinking. And in the interest of furthering my art and my health, I subscribe to the likelihood that I will at least have another before bed.