McKenzie's Closed

My history for this particular site goes back a very long way, at least to my son's infancy if not before.  The establishment sits on an expanded road divider a short distance from the state line, my home being on the other side.  It got its start, at least to me, as an enormous salad bar known as the Grande Salad/Saloon.  To this day I've not eaten at one quite this large, advertised as sixty feet in length.  For a very modest sum people could help themselves to full satiety with a mixture of healthy and medically ill-advised.  I remember needing an escape while my wife still engaged in maternity leave.  We bundled our son, just a few weeks old, into his car carrier and drove to The Grande Salad for lunch one weekday.  No other infants but lots of other people.  And the shopping center that would attract people to the area had not yet been fully built on the northbound side of the street.  The modest price and over-abundance of food did not seem a very sustainable business model, though perhaps offset by the Saloon element and labor savings from not needing waitresses or cooks to individualize patron requests.  It closed not long after.

Still, it sat in a prime location, one with an expanding shopping center across the street, some nearby well established car dealerships, an expansion of suburban housing across the state line, and easily accessible from both northbound and southbound highway, as few businesses at the time were.  The site did not stay vacant that long, soon refitted as McKenzie's Brew House, a brew pub that entered on the ground floor of public interest in craft beer.  And they made pretty decent beer, in a state that still maintained a state monopoly on alcohol retail with limited ability for residents to purchase the newer brews on their own.  It became one of our destinations when we wished to eat out.  Not the closest place, though never burdensome to drive there.  They had their brew tanks visible through glass.  At the center stood an enormous bar, usually occupied by young working people who had not yet acquired a current significant other.  And tables, lots of them, with a patio as well.  On Sundays they had a brunch with make your own Bloody Mary.  The waitress would bring a measured portion of vodka in a highball glass followed by a trip to the bar where various fixings were laid out to customize the Sunday morning eye-opener.  The menu, brunch and dinner, always had ample choices within our dietary limitations.  Waitresses not always the most efficient.  But when I needed to go someplace reliable or take a visitor out to eat, McKenzie's became the top choice.  It remained so for decades.

This weekend I found myself a little stir-crazy, needing to go someplace I've not visited for a while.  I drove to the Whole Foods, now established in the shopping center across the street from McKenzie's expecting to get a Danish or a scone to snack on, but mostly to not be in my house.  Lunchtime on a Sunday would be prime brunch time at the restaurant, yet the parking lot appeared mostly empty.  I glanced over on my return trip, noticing that the McKenzie's features were no more, though the building structure seemed the same.  New signage, Now Open.  Crown Tavern.  McKenzie's is no more.  I don't know why the transition.  Owner retirement, Covid effect on business, too much hassle to run?  Don't know.

When I arrived home, I checked the online menu at Crown Tavern.  Also, beer focused but with very little on the menu within my dietary customs.  Not a suitable replacement.  While I enjoyed every meal I ate at McKenzie's, it never fully became my default place except for the very rare occasions I was expected to take guests out.  And their overhead must have been overwhelming.  Yet it served as a destination for decades, one not easily substituted.

Sipping a Brewski

One of the incentives that our regional blood bank offers as a donation incentive is a coupon redeemable for a discounted beer at several pubs in the state.  They place the coupons at the registration desk where people can take one on arrival, still valid even if turned away that day as a donor by the screening process.  Only one place near my home participates, a small chain that brews its own beer in a central location, then distributes to its restaurants.  I pick a day to redeem it, usually as a reward for completing some notable project at home by 4PM, then link my presence to their Happy Hour which runs from 3-6PM weekdays.  Not only did that time arrive, but my wife asked to join me.

We picked a spot at the end of their bar, read their beer menu.  I selected one of their own which they said included a saaz hop.  Not knowing what this is, I ran a search, found that it tempers bitterness, and order a pint.  My wife got one from a craft brewery not part of this home network.  It was good.  Carbonation much finer than what I would get from anything I'm willing to purchase at Total Whine, which for price reasons I limit to mass brewers.  I sipped a little, chatted with my wife a little about things that would not generate a complaint.  I need a new carry on, My Space needs the closet emptied of stuff that has no realistic future use, which is most of what's in there now.  I felt pleasant, and I was pleasant.  Took my time sipping and enjoying the fine bubbles.

I don't know when the blood bank promotion ends, though I'm planning another donation shortly after I become eligible in early September.

Blood Bank Brew

Platelet donors at one time left with a form of home clutter at one time.  My collection of T-Shirts, caps, fleece covers, a beach bag, flip flops, and thermal mugs could start a Blood Bank Museum in my house.  Platelet donors are their most dedicated group. We largely set our schedules and maintain it, not really needing an incentive or even thanks.  They got the message and did away with the parting gifts some time ago but still offer incentives to donate periodically, though to all donors.  Whole blood sources may be less consistent with their giving, creating the need for rallies at mobile sites or other means of making it as easy as possible for people to participate.

In lieu of clutter, the Blood Bank substituted an experience.  Donate anything, or even just register and get screened out as ineligible, and they will offer a coupon good for a $2 off a pint of craft beer at any of the sponsoring brewpubs.  Only one being convenient to me, I redeemed it as a reward to myself for accomplishing a difficult writing submission before deadline.

While Two Stones Pub's northern location around the corner makes for a quick and mostly good supper, I had not been there in a while, maybe never in their late afternoon Happy Hour time.  Easing Covid restrictions, which became official the day before in our state, pretty much opened the bar where I helped myself to the last seat that could offer me empty seats on either side.  I never quite understood Cheers or even the Public Houses of the British Isles where people went more to create community than to buzz the susceptible parts of their CNS.  At one time beer had a safety advantage over water so people consumed it as their primary beverage, though eventually hot tea and hot coffee could also sterilize the water.  Now beverages of any type have become so available as to be overconsumed.  It is also more economical to purchase and consume for home use, making the beverage, whether beer or coffee, a forum for communal presence rather than serve a physiological need.

Two Stones must have had its small cohort of regulars who gather along the bar in late afternoon.  Since my last visit, the restaurants have expanded their own unique brews in a central location to distribute to the small eating sites.  Good variety of house offerings and not unusually expensive even if not discounted by my Blood Bank donation or Happy Hour.

I selected a pint of one of their signature blends, a very crisp dark amber liquid with fine bubbles and just the right blend of bitterness and sweetness.  One that would sell in a much expanded market, I think.  While I took a paper to work on, and did for a bit, the two folks behind the bar served a little as cruise directors, opening conversations with their patrons, including me.  We spoke about the Blood Bank promotion primarily.

Pint glass emptied, amply rewarded by the Blood Bank for my consideration and by myself for submitting my article, I drove the half-mile home.  I'd pay full price for this experience.