One Seriously Sweet Beer Speakeasy in South Texas
One Seriously Sweet Beer Speakeasy in South Texas
Kirsch Sour Cherry Gose in South Texas
At 8 pm in early September, South Texas is still light outside, and it’s the perfect time for a drink. I drove the five minutes from my house to the only known speakeasy in town. Its Facebook page states, “By appointment only.”
Driving up a small side street, I pulled up to Manny Villareal’s house. I had first met him the week before as he was unloading a 99-case of beer from an Austin Beerworks truck in his backyard. He waved me to the truck and welcomed me like an old friend. I was on assignment for the local newspaper, covering the South Texas Beer Connoisseurs Bottle Share Meet and Greet event. The venue caught my attention; after moving to Victoria, Texas, two months ago, it quickly became apparent that there was nowhere to order craft beer. I had moved from Philadelphia, where I could walk three blocks and try every beer from Belgium I could imagine. At the bars in downtown Victoria, the locals ordered Budweiser and Coors.
I hadn’t even realized it, but I missed craft beer. I missed the discussions of flavor and subtleties, and the sense of community that comes with those talks. I sent Manny a text, asking if I could come back the next week. He enthusiastically welcomed me back to his establishment, or, as he calls it, The Tap Shack.
When I arrived, I pulled him aside to hear his story. Manny poured himself a beer from one of the taps and started his tale. “A couple of friends of mine introduced me to craft beer when I was 22, eight years ago. My first craft beer was from Flying Dog. The Double Dog IPA. I fell in love with it. I love the dankiness, the aroma, the floral taste to it.”
He wanted to create a “man cave” for himself, and installed part of his now 2,000-strong tap handle collection on the walls and ceiling of a room outfitted with comfortable couches and neon lights. When he expanded his man cave to include an outside bar, he installed more tap handles and started serving from kegs in addition to bottles and cans. There are Sharpie signatures all over the walls and ceiling. Manny does not have a license, and he was never out to make money. “I’m a donation-based establishment. I’m a modern-day speakeasy open to the public, by appointment only. You don’t have to pay me anything. If you want to give me a dollar for five glasses, that’s fine.”
I told him that I loved Hefeweizen, and he poured me an Agave Saison Farmhouse Ale from 8th Wonder Brewery from his tap. It was light, fruity, yet not too sweet. I was hooked. I tried some incredible Hitachino Nest Japanese beer, donated by friends of Manny’s who make the trip to the Tap Shack from California regularly. I tried a Kirsch Sour Cherry Gose from Victory Brewing Company. I was in craft beer heaven.
Before I left, Manny gave me a silver Sharpie. “Now it’s your turn to sign your name, since we’ve been so lucky to have you,” he said. I signed in a corner on the right side of the outside bar, right next to a graffiti artist and a brewmaster from Austin.