"Coldest Beer on The Island"

Out and about on a Monday night. We found ourselves at Ft Myers Beach, the hub for spring breakers and white tourists with those freshly flushed faces and spots of bright pink where sunscreen was overlooked. A kind of low brow Key West, a party town on a budget. T-shirt shops line the boardwalk and blast island tunes late into the night. The tattoo parlor is conveniently located on the main strip, just in case you want to document your vacation permanently. It's a far cry from the bustle of Highway 41; commerce, strip malls, shopping, young professionals sporting button downs and ties, Mercedes and BMW's buzzing by. Hardly anyone lives here full time, all of the cottages that line the lengthy barrier island have For Rent signs posted in the yard. Here you are in vacationland. It's always nice to head down and pretend we are on our own mini-holiday, people watch and sip cold beer.

We end up at Yucatan Bar and Grill, a converted Pizza Hut turned into a full-on tiki bar with rattan wall coverings and a solid teak and holly bar that's the center of attention. The fact that it was a Pizza Hut in a previous life is not entirely evident off the bat, but is increasingly apparent as you look up at the unique high rise boxy ceiling. They have disguised it well.

We meet up with Dave's parents, aunt, uncle, cousin, cousin's boyfriend and daughter, and grandma for dinner. The energy from not seeing the Northern family members in quite sometime is full on. They are down for their vacation, spending their days at the beach or at the pool with fresh tans and casual Florida attire. It's contagious, the relaxed mentality of one on break from life. We almost forget that we have jobs to go back to in the morning.

After we all satisfied ourselves with some fresh seafood, the girls decide to go shopping and the boys (and me) decide to cozy up to the bar and listen to some live music. Yucatan offers "The Coldest Beer on the Island", a digital thermometer inside a keg as you walk into the bar. It reads 28 degrees F. Their personalized beer, Yucatan Red is a house specialty and served in a pint glass bearing the name. As with most red ales, this one has almost no hopiness and goes down easy. They also had one of my favorite beers which is found all over Florida; Key West Sunset Ale. It is produced by the Florida Beer Company based in Melbourne, about 300 miles away from the famous Mallory Square. The name and the enticing label help to make this beer a hot seller. It lets the drinker embody a sense of place. Sunset Ale is on the lighter side for a pale ale, not a lot of hop flavor, but just enough to compliment the maltiness of the grains. Living in Florida, craft beer and micro breweries are almost unheard of. You have to go to specialty stores to find a major brand from the Northeast or the West Coast. I get excited when I see Red Hook, the Budweiser of craft beer in the Northwest (not that it tastes like an American lager, but that it's mass produced and found everywhere... just to clarify).

Glancing at the imported beer list, I was thrilled to see that they had Kalik lager, The Beer of the Bahamas. After months of drinking solely a light lager, you tend to long for other flavors, but that taste has been ingrained in my memory bank. It has actually been roughly a year since I have had a Kalik and boy did it taste good! Even though it is a light lager, please do not categorize it with an American lager. It has a distinct flavor, a little nutty and no stank or skunky taste whatsoever. Entirely refreshing on a hot, humid island day. And the best part of all was it was only $3.50, compared to $6 in the islands.

Uncle Steve and Mike kept us company for quite sometime at the bar. The musician was playing Jimmy Buffett covers, James Taylor, Neil Young, The Eagles, and all kinds of songs you know by heart. The ambiance was laid back but lively. This was the kind of place that I could be a regular at. We met "the band" as we were leaving for the evening. He had taken his break and was walking his over sized yellow lab out front. Randy Johnson (no, he is not a tall, lanky red head with a mustache and a mean fastball), was from Alabama, down for a few months trying to make a few bucks in this beach town. He asked where he could look to play next season when he came back, so we gave him some ideas in our neck of the woods. He was grateful and we wished him luck.

Life is not so bad living this close to the beach, but we need to make it a point to get down there more often. It is so easy to get caught in the hustle and bustle of urban life and the quest for the almighty dollar that you forget there is a laid back lane with live music, good people and cold beer.