Mea Culpa

This is an embarrassing admission.

And a glaring omission.

And I have no excuse.

Even though I've been in the beer writing business for twenty years and have traveled far and wide--including internationally--to report on great beer and places to drink it, there is just no excuse for failing to drive just twenty-four miles to visit the Number 1 Craft Beer bar in NJ and the Number 3 joint in the country.

There's just no excuse.

Yes, it's been there since 1933, and it was the first bar in the city to get a liquor license after that failed experiment known as Prohibition. And while the original owner--George Dorchak above-- banned the sale of any Budweiser products, his grandson didn't start immersing himself into the craft beer scene until about 2006 (ten full years after yours truly did). So I suppose my penance might be mitigated by a decade on a technicality.

That it took my twenty-three year old son, himself a budding craft beer devotee, to haul my sorry butt into this place is also part of the embarrassment.

But I'm very glad he did. Because The Cloverleaf Tavern in Caldwell is simply phenomenal in every way.

This blog is about good pubs, good beer and good people, and this bar passes with flying colors on every count.

Good pubs? The missus had just sat down at one of the high top tables with Cody and me to order a beer when she declared, " I like this place. I want to come back here." She hadn't as yet even had any food--or even had her beer delivered--when she made her declaration. She has never done that in our thirty-four year adventure together. The Cloverleaf's "vibe" is palpable.

And it must be contagious, because while we had no difficulty commanding a table at 5 PM, the people just kept on coming in after that, requiring some to wait for tables.

"Sometimes on Friday or Saturday night, there's an hour and a half wait," said former server, barman and now manager Lawson Coates. Considering the size of the place and its rather labyrinthine layout, which is deceptive from the outside and includes an outdoor seating area and an upstairs, that's saying something. And what it's saying is that people love this place.

And the place reciprocates by having twenty-four delicious beers on tap and another fifty in bottles. All of its servers are first level Cicerones, so they will know what to recommend with your grub. It also sponsors an "MBA" and a Ph. D. beer program with neat rewards. That would translate to Master of Beer Appreciation and Professor of Hops and Drafts. There is also the Clover Club, which no doubt has its share of returning members. So that covers part of the Good People equation of The PubScout's requirement.

More good people come in the form of the twenty-plus employees who staff the place, like our server Lori-- a working mom of two with a bubbly personality and a desire to please her customers--which she did. And, as mentioned, they all know their beer.

I started off with Firestone Walker's Oaktoberfest, a quality lager that I'd describe as on the lighter side of malty-- delicate, complex and subtle in its flavors. It was designed to go with my Pastrami Reuben Sandwich, and it served its purpose until my glass was dry. Then I opted for Flying Fish's Oktoberfish to finish it off, and that exceptional in-your-face malt bomb was closer to my preconceived notions about marzens, which make this time of the year so special. But you don't get to be Jersey's #1 Craft beer bar by just offering marzens, so check out this list. The missus had TWO Allagash Whites, while Cody had an Oaktoberfest (which he loved) and a Victory Sour Monkey which had him waxing poetic at the table. (PubScout Tip: try the Hugh Malone!)

That the small kitchen at the Cloverleaf turns out the quantity and quality of the food it does is nothing short of astounding. My Reuben was great and the missus enjoyed her fish tacos, which came in an order so big, she couldn't finish them, to her great disappointment. I knew that Cody enjoyed his bacon-infused burger, too, although I had to decipher that from his grunts of approval, because he didn't talk much while eating it.

With all my criteria covered nicely, the Cloverleaf Tavern gets the PubScout Seal of Approval.

And a promise that it will not take me another twenty years to return.

With the missus who suggested it when we sat down, of course.

Because if Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.