We walk into a bar before it opens

Tap & Cellar, Fresno, California
Okay, I admit it. I don’t like to do things the hard way, so we went to Tap & Cellar’s soft open. If we’d gone the next day for the grand opening, we could have enjoyed a live band, and there would have been more photos on the wall, but we probably wouldn’t have had the great pleasure of talking with Mike, the owner (and, on Thursday night anyway, our bartender).

After looking at their website for directions, then going to Google maps, Mindy noted that Tap & Cellar might be hard to find (their website mentions that they’re “hard to find on purpose”). The bar’s in a business park, and we had just a little trouble finding it in the dark because we thought it was behind a closed security gate. When we circled back, the gate was open, and we made our way through.

It’s next to a karate school, so we wondered about kickers and punchers getting too much alcohol. The outside is a little drab -- although maybe that’s just because it was dark when we saw it -- but the interior is warm and inviting, with old barn wood on the walls, reclaimed heart redwood tables, and a shiny polished wall of taps. A few guys sat at the bar and baseball was on the TVs; it was opening day. Seeing MLB again was good (Seattle was playing Cleveland when we got there, the A’s and Giants having already won their openers). A guy who came in just after we sat down said next year he was going to need to take opening day off since he spends the whole day checking scores when he should be working.

Cole, a seat or so down from Mindy, was on his laptop and talking to two guys down the bar. They were talking about the business, and after a while, we noticed Cole had stepped behind the bar to get himself a drink and to serve some newcomers. He said he’d spent the day before on the road from 7:00 am to 11:00 pm, checking out breweries from Auburn to Santa Cruz (with two or three stops along the way) for Tap & Cellar.

As often mentioned here, we aren’t fans of beer, but other people would be delighted to see the wall of taps. We were amused by the names of beers (“Devil’s Teeth,” “Pulp Addiction,” “Don’t Tell Claudia”). I actually ordered from the wall, because we noticed a pineapple cider (from Oregon). Mindy was happy to see the Saviez Vineyard syrah rosé on the menu, and she ordered that. (Oddly enough, we had pineapple cider and rosé at The Black Cloister in Toledo, which came up in conversation at Tap and Cellar)

Mike, who took our orders and poured our drinks, seemed pleased with her choice, and we learned he was the winemaker. His family -- on both his mother’s and his father’s side -- has been in the wine business for over a century (Saviez was founded in 1902).

Mike said he’d been looking for a more personal means of selling their wine. For a time, they’d considered opening a tasting room at their vineyard, but bureaucratic obstacles changed their minds. Instead, a little over a year ago, Mike began the work of opening the Tap & Cellar. Their soft open began a couple of weeks ago (though they had friends and family over for a Super Bowl celebration since they had the TVs available).

The TVs were pretty much the only decorations on the walls, but Mike told us there’d be historical photos of the family property (and the family) up by noon the next day for the grand opening. Mike showed us one photo of his great-grandfather that was also on one of their bottles.

While telling us about his family, some of whom had gone to jail during Prohibition, Mike said that the great-grandfather in the photo had been the basis for the Charles Laughton character in the 1940 film They Knew What They Wanted. Mike talked about how lucky he felt to be born into his family, with a chance to follow his dreams rather than just working for a living.

We asked Mike our standard questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” Mke said a good bar needed, “Atmosphere and people. We’re in the service industry, not selling wine but an experience.” In designing the Tap & Cellar, they were looking to make a cool environment that was about more than beer or wine -- though wine is important to Mike, “I love people, and I hope people love my wine.”

As for what makes a good church, Mike said, “I go to church occasionally. I’m a firm believer in God.” He said the same things that make a good bar make for a good church: the atmosphere and the people.

Knowing that Mike is a winemaker (commuting between wineries in Napa and in Fresno), I asked whether he was more of a wine guy or a beer guy. He answered with an industry saying: “It t

akes a lot of beer to make good wine.”

Both beer and wine will bring people to the Tap & Cellar, but I think the staff will play even a bigger part in making people feel welcome. Even before the official opening, the welcome was grand.

Walk into bars with us!

Cheers and Amen
You may have noticed that our posts have been more random lately. That’s partly because we’re still figuring out how to visit a new bar every week in spite of incompatible schedules and limited geographical range, but there’s another reason that’s much more fun.

We’ve been working on Cheers and Amen, the book about our year-long 50-state quest to visit a bar and a church in every state, and we’ve finally got something to show for all our (mostly Dean’s) hard work. Not only that, but you can help determine what the finished book will look like and what kind of extras it needs. We need your thoughts, so we’ve got a special offer for you.

Here’s the deal: the work in progress paperback (we're calling it the first edition because it sounds better) is now available at Amazon. We don’t anticipate changing the main content, but what sidebars and/or end matter (all the tourist traps we visited, where we watched movies in each state, alternative sleeping arrangements, etc.) do you want to see? What do you think of the cover? Would you like photos inside?

Until Easter (April 1, no joke!), Cheers and Amen is available for just $5.99. Click here, buy it, read it, and let us know what you think. What’s missing? What do you suggest?

Leave a comment here or on Facebook, or email us: deanandmindygotochurch at gmail dot com . We want to incorporate your suggestions, so let us know what you think we need to include. We want your ideas whether or not you buy the first edition!

Thank you so much for your help. Writing (and editing) the book has been fun, but way slower than we'd anticipated. We're happy to finally have something to share with you, and we can't wait to hear what you think.

-- Mindy

PS There are so many stories that didn’t fit into the book. We’re working on ways to share those with you as well. In the meantime, we’ll be walking into another bar -- possibly one that's not in California's Central Valley -- next week.

We walk into a hook and ladder company

Hook and Ladder, Clovis, California
Before we went inside Hook and Ladder, Mindy found a coupon on their website for $.75 off your drink for first-time customers. Sure, $.75 isn’t much, but with two of us, that’s $1.50 -- and then we’re talking money. After we sat down at the relatively crowded bar, Mindy showed Samantha the bartender our coupon. She told us she was sorry, but that website was from four years ago -- before the present owner bought the bar. She said there might be specials on their Facebook page, which they use as a website now.

It turned out that drink prices -- which Samantha told us about before we ordered -- were pretty reasonable without a coupon. We got $4 well drinks (rum & coke for me, cranberry & vodka for Mindy. We didn’t try one, but we heard that nobody makes a better Bloody Mary than Samantha). We enjoyed our drinks and watched some of the TVs (good news for me: Oakland A’s spring training. Bad news: my alma mater San Diego State went down in the first round of March Madness)

As you might guess by the name, firefighter paraphernalia decorates the place. The former owner had firefighters in the family and wanted to honor them. The new owner didn’t just keep the theme; he’s also kept staff and customers through the changeover.

One of those bartenders was filling a glass rimmed with salt with Worcestershire sauce, olive juice and lime juice along with the last of a bottle of Clamato juice, topped with what she could fit of a bottle of beer. With her yellow skirt, red belt and blue top, we were reminded of Snow White, and we realized she was making herself a red beer/michelada (Mindy was proud of herself for knowing what was in a drink she has no interest in ever ordering)

When Snow White finished mixing her drink, she put it up on the bar, walked around to the stool in front of the drink, and sat down to enjoy it. Her shift was over, and the bar wasn’t as crowded, so we moved down and (with her permission) sat next to her.

We overheard her mention that she’s a Disney fan (confirming that she was, indeed, dressed as Snow White; she said it was laundry day). When we asked, she said she’s worked at Hook and Ladder for 16 years, first part-time with the former owner. She was happy to switch over to full time when she had the chance; she’d been working retail along with bartending and was glad to quit that job.

She said she was willing to answer our standard questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” Bob, a regular who was sitting next to Snow White, was willing to answer as well.

Snow said it was the “people that come in” and good company that make a good bar. The people she was talking about aren’t just the customers, she said, but the staff as well. We asked about the H & L specifically, “I love this bar.”

Samantha, who’d just come on duty and had gotten our drinks, added, “I don’t go to any other bar. I drink here.”

Bob said Hook and Ladder is homey.

Snow said, “It’s not a family business, but it used to be.”

Bob was friends with the old owner, but he stuck around after it was sold, and he said they seem to treat the employees right; “everyone’s the same here.”

We asked what makes for a good church. Bob said he’d gone to CrossCity Christian Church since he was a kid, but “it got too big”.

Snow added, “You want to feel welcome. When it gets too big, you lose that connection.”

We didn’t want to miss Samantha’s answers, so we asked what she thought. For a bar, she said, “Honestly, just the people.” She’d been a customer at Hook and Ladder before working there, and she said, “They tried to get rid of me so hard, they hired me.” We asked what else she liked about the bar. She said that she likes that it’s dark and divey.

We said that that it didn’t seem much like a dive to us, but the others said when it was in its old location across Shaw Avenue, it had been much more of a dive.

As for a church, Samantha said it’s “the atmosphere and environment.” She loved singing the old hymns. She grew up in a Pentecostal church where her family was quite active, and she had quite a bit of fun in the youth group. She still attends church regularly.

It was time for us to head out (I had to go to work soon for my night audit shift). Bob was on his way out as well, and he had one last idea about what makes for a good bar. “Did you get a look at the restrooms? You have to look at the restrooms.” If the restrooms are clean, the ownership still cares about the place. If the restrooms are dirty, it’s on the way downhill.

I should note I did use the restroom at the Hook and Ladder. That wasn't the only reason we left feeling confident that Hook and Ladder would be around a lot longer.

Dean considers smoking

The other day I was watching a rerun of the game show Match Game from 1975. (I don’t need to explain why. Don’t judge me.) Patty Duke Astin (you know, from The Patty Duke Show, “loves to rock and roll, a hot dog makes her lose control”) was one of the panelists, and right there, in front of the studio audience and a national television audience, she lit up a cigarette. No one on the show made a comment about it. Smoking was an accepted part of the culture.

It dominated bar culture; back then, you expected a bar to have ashtrays -- and they would be used. Bars in movies were smoky places because bars in life were smoky places. Merle Haggard’s song “Swinging Doors” includes the line, “this old smoke filled bar.” Moe Bandy called a song “Smoke Filled Bars.”

But times have changed. We live in California, where it’s been illegal to smoke in bars for over twenty years. Even in 2016, when we visited bars in every state, we didn’t see (or smell) smoke in most bars. Smoking is still allowed in some places in some states. (Those states, if you’re curious, are Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, Nevada, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas. Virginia, West Virginia, and Wyoming.) We visited two bars, in Alaska and Oklahoma, where the bar’s management had decided to do away with smoking even though it was still legal.

In Oklahoma, people lit up on an outside patio, and we were surprised when we talked with smokers to find they were happy with the policy. A guy tried to light up in the bar in Alaska (the no-smoking policy had only been in effect for four days), so I assume he wasn’t happy with the policy.

It’s clear that a majority of people in the United States support smoking bans. There always is a balance between personal freedom and the rights of others; as a nation, we’ve decided people need to tobacco-free.

We found it interesting that on our trip, the place that was most friendly toward smoking wasn’t a bar, but a church. We went to Scum of the Earth Church in Denver, Colorado, which had a “smoking pastor” who sat on the church’s front porch to make other smokers feel welcome. We never encountered a bar with somebody hired to smoke outside and welcome people -- unless you count one of the owners of Blazing Saddle in Des Moines, Iowa.

In American history, smoking was celebrated in high society, on the stage and screen, in offices and, of course, bars. Churches were the one place smoking was condemned. “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t chew, and don’t go with girls who do” was a popular saying in fundamentalist churches.

The United States has, for the most part, come around to the church’s view on smoking, while disagreeing on almost everything else. We’ll keep going to the smoke-free environments of bars (and churches). But every once in a while, we’ll step outside. There are some pretty great people to talk to who’ve been exiled outside with their cigarettes.

We walk into a casa

Casa de Tamales, Fresno, California
The sign was right in front of us: “Bar.” And we were sitting at the bar. But there’s no way around it, we were in a restaurant, not a bar.

Three years ago, when we started planning our cross-country adventure, we knew we wanted to go to a church in every state. Since a year-long trip to fifty states meant we’d be averaging a week for every state, we needed to do something else in each state -- so we decided to visit bars. Bars are places where you can meet and chat with people. When Mindy’s dad, not a fan of alcohol, asked why we couldn’t go to diners or restaurants in each state instead, we tried to explain that, in general, restaurants aren’t places to talk to strangers; they’re designed to be places you can chat with whoever you came in with. So when we go to bars, we try to talk to people.

Mindy saw a Facebook post mentioning that Casa de Tamales in Fresno’s Tower District had $2 sangrias and street tacos. Their website showed a picture of the bar sign, so we drove down.

As we came in out of the drizzle around 6:00 pm, the place was hopping -- which was appropriate because it was ArtHop Night. The art displayed at Casa de Tamales included Amber Dawn Hilton's dinosaurs playing rock music, which is probably the best idea for art since dogs playing poker. The long tables in the center of the restaurant were full of people talking and laughing and having a swell time. At one point, the two tables began toasting each other, and we’re pretty sure they weren’t all part of the same group.

At Casa de Tamales, you order at the counter, and your food is brought to you wherever you sit down. Even though nobody was sitting at the bar, we decided to sit there, which turned out to be a bit of a problem. The bar stools were close to one of the long tables, so people (like the waitstaff) had to squeeze through. Sometimes people elbowed us a little, and sometimes we elbowed them. By the time we realized that we’d chosen our seats badly, we’d gotten our food and our drinks and didn’t think moving would help much, though the seats at the other end of the bar were probably less in the way.

The most important thing to note here is that the food was delicious, the service was friendly and efficient, and the atmosphere was pleasant. The tacos were wonderful, and I want to go back for tamales. The sangrias were fine (and we appreciated having an alternative to beer) though I thought mine had a disturbing similarity to church potluck fruit punch. Casa de Tamales is a good restaurant.

As it turned out, while we were there, no one else sat at the bar. Everyone at the tables seemed to be enjoying the company they were with, so we didn’t want to interrupt them. The staff was busy and didn’t need bloggers pestering them. In other words, we weren’t able to ask the questions we try to ask every week, so for the sake of the blog, it wasn’t an ideal visit.

But my stomach was very happy, and sometimes that’s enough.