Ode to Kettlehouse

I am a girl who enjoys good beer. In fact, I try to limit myself to only drinking good beer. If beer is mediocre, I don't waste my time. When I moved to Madison, Spotted Cow and the Great Dane rocked my world (they still do). That being said, in Montana, in my very hometown, I discovered the best brewery EVER.

I now lament the fact that I lived in Missoula for years and never frequented the Kettlehouse Brewery. During our time in Missoula, Pete and I were there many times. It is small and totally unpretentious. Unlike many breweries, it is a place that real locals go to hang out and throw back a few pints. When you settle up for those pints, you'll discover that Kettlehouse uses the pint honor system and they will ask you how many you had. The line to fill up growlers in the evenings is insane, and it was packed like the weekend on a Wednesday night. All their seating is clearly from thrift stores, and they even have some sweet bikes hanging from the ceiling (something for Pete to look at).

All that aside, I must say that their beer is exquisite. From their Hellgate Honey Hefe to Cold Smoke Scotch Ale to their Al Pils, all of their brews are exceptional. There is no weak link in their lineup that I could detect, and believe me, I investigated. Even cooler, their beer is only sold in stores in cans like Surly does out of the Twin Cities. You can't get their stuff outside of Missoula, so I will be requesting shipments anytime my parents head to the midwest.

Kettlehouse, I love you. Cold Smoke is one of the finest beers I've ever had.