2222 Glades Road, Boca Raton.
Call 561-392-2739, or visit here.
Brewzzi sounds like the second name of a rapper. You know, about the time his ego has grown to epic proportions and sometime after said rapper has enjoyed moderate success with his first name. Snide remarks aside, I cracked open the bright-orange menu and was whisked away into a decadent world of enticingly titled drinks (Irish Trash Can Punch? Yes, please). In addition to the brews that keep Brewzzi legit, the place vends a mean Planter's Punch, plenty of margaritas, spicy bloody marys, and something called a Palm Beach Mojito, which is less overpriced than the name implies. In addition, Brewzzi boasts the usual dining-room fare: burgers and salads and pizzas and sandwiches and nothing worth more than a dismissive hand wave. After all, we came for the beer.
So, to find someone who could advise my blank-eyed girlfriends on their
brew selection, I snared Adam, the good-looking and gullible young
waiter who would navigate us through the bitter world of beer.
"The CityFest is a medium lager similar to Sam Adams," Adam was saying.
Though she's more into wine than beer, the petite friend to my left -- a
talented, well-dressed woman who seems completely in control of things --
indulged him. (I will call her Oenophile since her wine preference left
her somewhat unsatisfied at such a beer-focused venue.) "Um, usually I
like Blue Moon," she offered.
"You might be better off with a lighter one, then," Adam mused. "We have
a fruity, Chimay-like one with 9 percent alcohol. Want to try that?"
"Nine percent?" I looked up from the notepad upon which I was doodling (journalist, indeed). "I want that one!"
It works like this: Brewzzi has a handful of brew options, including
the Boca Blonde, the Belgian Strong Ale, Black Duke Dark, and CityFest.
Each has particular pluses and minuses, details and distinctions. In
theory, you know your preferences, and based on them, select the one
closest to the kinds you normally prefer. In our case, though, we had to
try them all. Soon enough, Adam returned to our table bearing a tray of
small, partially filled cups, which he arranged in order from lightest
to darkest before pausing expectantly.
The Reserve choked me with its bitterness, but I found the golden-bright
Boca Blonde -- 3.5 percent alcohol -- to be crisp and light. The Black
Duke -- akin to Honey Brown beer, pointed out Adam -- had just the
slightest suggestion of chocolate, which prompted my two female friends
to taste, just on principle. It wasn't that chocolatey but good anyway.
The Pilsner is a beer that makes you say "Wow!" after swallowing, though
I couldn't really pinpoint why.
"Wow!" I said.
"That's the hoppiness," Adam told me. "Pilsners are very hoppy."
Oenophile liked it. "This tastes like a beer," she decided, as if the others had been simply warm-up brews for little bitches.
"Reminds me of my childhood," I cracked.
Brewzzi is a brick- and wood-walled establishment with a squarish,
slightly elevated bar area that packs a good group of wholesome young
business professionals. Wineglasses hang, suspended, overhead. Boca
Q-tips and well-dressed couples dined at the paisley-printed booths.
Nearby, a large table seated a family with four children, all of whom
were very well-behaved. I decided to approach the two petite women
seated at the bar. Annie was tiny with red hair. Debbie was a blond
wearing a decent load of mascara. Both laughed when I asked them why
they came to Brewzzi's.
"The dance studio is across the street," said Annie, as if it were obvious. "Our girls go there."
The girls -- 10 and 12 -- were also quite good at dancing, I was informed.
"I couldn't dance my way out of a paper bag at that age," I said.
"I still can't," said Debbie, laughing.
"Look, this isn't the place to be," said Annie. "But it's a good place
to be, with good beer." And sometimes, that's all you need.