no. 309

One of my favorite things about beer is the vast chasm between the high end and the low. Sometimes, the gap's evidenced by the liquids, comparing something like High Life with something like, say, The Rare Barrel. I love them both equally, by the way.

Other times, you can see the expanse in the places where the beer is consumed.

On a recent trip to Raleigh, I paid friend-of-GBH, Brewery Bhavana, a visit. Their restaurant and taproom—which also includes a flower shop and a book store—is beautiful and elegant and nuanced and, in a certain way, magical. A multi-hour grazing session with the owner and his pals extended late into the night, after which I found myself at Flash House.

Flash House is decidedly not beautiful or elegant or nuanced. It's a dive. With a shitty sound system, a bearded lizard named Gary and, on this particular night, this young woman. She'd stumbled over from the rave next door. Although it's entirely different than Bhavana, Flash House has a certain magic all its own. I love them both equally, by the way.