Some of my longtime friends who live in Southern California (with whom I’ve adventured before) lit the beacon for us all to meet up in Los Angeles—Torrance, specifically—and do some brewery-hopping for some much-needed camaraderie.
We all decided to start at Smog City Brewing. We could have started at either of the next two places we ended up, but we went with our stomachs—AGL Craft Meats was serving up barbecued meats there, and beer + BBQ = no-brainer.
I began with Smog City’s Czech golden lager. I’ve found myself reaching for lagers more and more of late, and it was a perfect choice on a 72° sunny day. It was crisp with a bready, slightly doughy malt flavor, easy drinking, and a great companion to my brisket plate. My opinion of Smog City went way up on my last visit for a reason: They make great beer.
As we all caught up, I tried Kampai From Torrance—a hoppy lager with notes of citrus, pine and mixed berries; a sour saison called Electric Sundown, made with mango, guava and turmeric, with a lovely tartness and fruit flavor; and a mole version of their bourbon barrel-aged stout, Infinite Wishes, that had all the chocolate you’d want, but not a lot else.
For our second stop, we had options. We could either go to Hermosa Brewing’s taproom, which was basically next door to Smog City, or we could take a short walk the other way to HopSaint Brewing. We chose HopSaint with the reasoning that a short walk would be a great idea on a beautiful day. So onward, we strode, making each other laugh and recounting past adventures.
At that point, I knew nothing about HopSaint Brewing. I’d heard the name, but outside of maybe trying something at a random beer festival I didn’t recall, HopSaint was basically a blank slate for me. This was their satellite taproom; their brewery and attached restaurant is in Torrance as well.
I began with their Kolsch Enough which is, unsurprisingly, a kölsch. A quick side note: A kölsch is an historic style from Cologne, Germany (Köln, in German), that is a “hybrid ale,” i.e., fermented as an ale but conditioned like a lager. It resembles a pilsner, but with slight fruity notes from the yeast. I have a long tradition of evaluating whether a brewery knows what it’s doing by first ordering a lager or a beer whose style is subtle, like a kölsch—and I’ve had far too many American versions that made it clear the brewer had never tried an actual kölsch before. I am pleased to report that HopSaint easily passed the test: The beer was clean and crisp, with a slight fruity note. I exchanged some sips with friends (also trying HopSaint’s excellent Vienna lager and German-style pilsner in this way).
I eventually went back for a pour of their NITRO Chocolate Trip—a porter served on nitro, with a lovely toasted English malt flavor. I was talking to the staff about their great beer; they gave me a sample of something hoppy, and asked what I thought. With a sniff and a sip, I immediately knew that the Krush variety of hop (one of my current favorites) was used. Sure enough, the beer was called Freshly Krushed IPA, and it had the unmistakable flavors of tropical fruit, citrus and strawberry. This was the best beer I’d had all day. I shall be keeping HopSaint in my sights now.
It was time for a slightly longer walk—with more laughs along the way—to Monkish Brewing.
I’ve been interested in Monkish since their beginnings, when they were focused on Belgian styles (back when people would actually order Belgian styles). Since then, they have pivoted toward more of a modern craft-beer focus, i.e., murky IPAs and pastry stouts. Lest you think I am disparaging them, let me be clear: Every West Coast IPA, lager or sour ale I’ve had from them since then has been high quality—so much so that I wish they focused on that stuff.
I walked past the bustling patio area and into the taproom to take a look at the menu. My eyes quickly locked in on Paddy O’s Dry Irish Stout. One of the casualties of the last decade in craft beer is this style; Irish stouts and Irish reds are sorely missed by this writer, and whenever I encounter them on draft, I order one. Paddy O’s was just what the doctor ordered: a silky nitro pour of 4.2% alcohol-by-volume chocolately, roasty goodness. This is what I love most about visiting a brewery’s taproom: You are likely to see less-popular styles that have received the same love (or more) by the brewers, but are not destined to leave the brewery. I also tried their West Coast Expansion IPA. It was good, but my palate was fatigued, and it was time to return to Bennett and Autumn’s place nearby. (They so kindly hosted me for the weekend.)
After a lovely dinner of homemade masala chicken skewers, and more great conversation, I had one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a long time. I never regret my decision to hang with this group of friends, despite the sometimes-vexing drive. I wish they could come hang up here and have the same kind of craft-beer experience—but not only does the overall quality not match up; the valley’s breweries are pretty spread out. For now, I have to be grateful for these trips—and look forward to the next one.
