A Day At Southern Season, Or: From Beer To Eternity
At 10 a.m. on Tuesday, University Mall is holding a press conference to make an announcement. (“Reimagine University Mall,” they’re calling it.) We don’t know what they’re going to say yet, but Mayor Mark Kleinschmidt will be there along with town economic development officer Dwight Bassett and Chamber of Commerce president Aaron Nelson—so clearly they’re thinking it’s big. Dillard’s is likely going to be closing within a couple months, so the best bet is that they’ll be announcing a new anchor to replace it—and “movie theater” is the latest rumor—but we won’t know until 10:00.
In the meantime, to mark the occasion, I’m devoting my next two entries to writing about the U-Mall. Enjoy.
You know, it might just be the beer talking, but I think I’m really starting to like University Mall.
Wait, wait. Let me go back a bit…
It was Saturday. I was in my apartment and I got a call from my roommate Kit, who’s the new theater manager at Deep Dish: could I swing by with his cell phone charger? Sure. So I drove to the mall, dropped off the cord, and then proceeded to do what I always do whenever I’m in any mall at all: obsessively walk the entire thing, from one end to the other and back.
(Side note: I almost never buy anything when I’m there, but for some reason I really love malls. Whenever I’m in a new city, I’m always compelled to visit the mall; it’s how I judge metropolii.)
So. I wind up in Southern Season, a Chapel Hill institution that Kit recently overheard a guy describe as “Hillshire Farms on steroids.” (Yep, pretty accurate.) My plan was simple: walk around the store, admire all the fancy foods I can’t afford, grab a free sample of something if possible, and leave quietly without a trace.
(Oh my God, I’m Chapel Hill white trash.)
But my plan was cruelly thwarted! I wasn’t five steps into Southern Season before I was faced with an offer I couldn’t refuse, an opportunity I couldn’t pass up, a temptation I couldn’t resist:
It was Beer Extravaganza day, y’all.
Yes, Southern Season’s Beer Extravaganza: eighteen tables set up around the store, each manned by a pair of friendly brewers and local food producers, dishing and pouring out samples of their wares for anyone willing to drop eight bucks on a ticket to get in line. It was heavenly. I spent the next two hours ambling from table to table, stuffing myself with hops and goat cheese, chatting up the farmers and the brewers and eavesdropping on all the other extravaganza-goers in line with me. (Hipsters with beards, mostly.)
This is Doug from Mystery Brewing Co., which was offering two selections: an English ale called “Pickwick” and a Belgian IPA called “Fantine.” I recommend the Fantine, partly because it’s a damn good beer and partly because it’s a damn good musical.
I was buzzed by the time I got to Table Six. It was all a lovely blur from there.
By Table Nine, I’d already imbibed Duck Rabbit’s milk stout, Carolina Brewery’s winter seasonal (“Santa’s Secret”), and something from Double Barley Brewing called “Thrilla in Vanilla.” And those were just the highlights. At Table Ten I found Nikko and Kathryn of Starpoint Brewing in Carrboro, who kindly explained to me the difference between an “IPA” and a “double IPA.” IPAs are hoppy, they said. Double IPAs are—well, more hoppy. (Their double IPA was called “Duh,” which in retrospect I should’ve seen coming.)
This is Nikko and Kathryn. (The “Duh” was very good, by the way.) Starpoint Brewing doesn’t have a storefront right now, partly by choice and partly by circumstance: “We were going to open (a place) at Starpoint,” Nikko said, “but then they put a Walmart there.” There’s your impact of the Chatham Walmart on local business here in Orange, folks. (Incidentally, while you’re admiring the picture, get a load of that guy’s shirt back there. That was one heck of a t-shirt, let me tell you.)
“I’ve, uh…never heard those three words in that order before,” I said.
It was quite tasty. Apparently it wasn’t the first tray either, because as soon as the Weathervane guy set it down, folks swooped in from three different directions to grab a piece. Things were getting pretty hot and heavy at the Beer Extravaganza, y’all.
Clearly it was about time to call it an afternoon. I hit the last six tables, doubled back for one more round of Duh, and staggered out, happier and lighter in the head. There’s a lot of good local beer out there, you guys. (And a surprising amount of good goat cheese as well.)
Now. Just what was Santa’s secret?