This time of year at Crooked Ewe Brewery, the twenty-some stools outside often stand empty under the glow of heaters. Tonight, I’m the only one out here. Understandably so I think. We don’t often consider the option to eat outside in the winter, but it can be really lovely.
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As I leave the office, I pull out to the intersection and stop. I really can’t delay my decision anymore. What am I going to eat tonight? It’s one of those chilly evenings where I’d prefer to teleport home to my bed with an already full stomach. As much as I talk about food, eating can be a chore sometimes.
A few moments of deliberation and I flip on my left turn signal aiming the car toward Crooked Ewe Brewery. It’s not exactly on my way home, but close enough, and the wait isn’t usually long.
I walk inside and notice nearly every seat at the bar full. Is this normal for a weeknight here? It certainly isn’t at most places in town. It warms my heart a little to see a full bar, but I’m also a little annoyed. I’m not in the mood to be in a crowd tonight.
“Hey, what can I get for you?” the woman behind the bar asks. Never seen this woman before, must be new. There’s a lot of new people here these days.
“I’m going to order some food to go,” I reply. “Bimibap with brisket. Oh, and a half-pour of the Turtle Tamer while I wait.”
She returns with my drink and I make a swift exit outside to wait. As the glass door thuds closed, the chilly air hits my cheeks and a stillness washes over me. It feels like a classic movie scene cutting from a chaotic environment to an almost eerie stillness.
Oh yeah.
The sun sets early this time of year, so the river is barely visible at the bottom of the bank, but I know it’s there. You don’t need to see the water to feel the steady flow of the Saint Joseph River, something about it invites a different pace when you’re close by.
It’s only a few degrees above freezing tonight. The patio is lined with powerful heaters making sitting looking out not just comfortable, but in a strange turn of events, the only place I want to be right now.
Fortunately for me no one else seems to know about this. The twenty-some stools stand empty under the glow of the heaters. I’m the only one out here tonight. Understandably so I think. We don’t often consider the option to eat outside in the winter. But if you put on an extra layer, sit under a heater, and muster a warmth somewhere deep inside, it can be really lovely.
Thanks, Crooked Ewe.
Say what you will about the place and the changes that have come with time, a pandemic, and plenty of turnover, it’s still one of the better spots in town. It’s sad, too often we don’t appreciate a good thing because we are busy missing what it used to be.
This summer I spent many days sitting out here soaking up the sun and watching turtles fight for space on the log. I miss summer, but it’s not summer anymore.
The tail end of a train quietly ticks by on the Grand Trunk Western above. Maybe I’ll get my food for here next time.
