Firkin the night away

When I lived up in Lake County, I had then, as I still do now, affection for the suburban town that has kept its downtown alive. I feel since the 1980’s that suburban towns across America have sold out their cheap farmland outside of their central hubs to invite in the football stadium sized parking lots of Walmart and grocery stores, only then to follow by the car accessible neon trans-fat put-you-in-an-early-grave fast food stops of McDonalds and Carl’s Jr. One could walk to those but there are not meant to be walked like a thriving downtown like Libertyville, where since I graduated high school in 1999, the town has added to its plethora of establishments and knocked down vacant lots. Once the legal drinking age found its way to my ID, I found myself frequenting Firkin, smack dab in the center of downtown Libertyville on Route 21. 

The word Firkin is lost on Americans, unless of course you are a brewer or beer aficionado steeped in lore. Meaning nine imperial gallons of beer, Firkin has a craft beer selection that puts any other bar I’ve ever sat at to shame. The bar itself, ever stool occupied and the crowd of others holding the appropriate beer glass, from tulip to stein, find themselves aware of butting into the tables and moving crowd. The place needs to be at least a yard wider. 

Behind the long oak bar on a Friday and you’ll find the balding but fully bearded Dave, a late-30’s gentleman of supreme beer knowledge and a general concern that you are not merely stimulated by the alcohol but that you leave going “I’ve got to find what I just had three of!” Confused on what to get? They’ll offer you a small sample or two from what’s on tap, which I don’t even think includes a major brand like Miller or Bud Light! Elitist you say? Damn straight, I nod, looking up to the twenty odd choices of brews written on the chalkboard next to the Victorian style mirrors above the bar. The ceiling is decorated for the seasons. 

Holiday style lights and extensive strings of silver foil dangle above diners heads. If you become a follower of small brewers in the Midwest like Emmett’s or Two Brothers, you’ll see their signs on the wall. 

Firkin’s food doesn’t live up to what I would consider a top three in my life bar. On my recent visit to Firkin on a Friday night with Ally, we shared a dinner with friends Beth and Katie, women who are in epicenter of teaching the youth of tomorrow and who get little credit for their talent that inspires even this college professor. The food is good, not great. The price doesn’t warrant shelling out $15-20 for a meal that should be $5 less considering some of the flavors and quality. I had the London broil fajitas with shitake and Portobello mushrooms. Though good, and me a bit of a food snob has to admit that I might have had better at Chevy’s. Ally’s fish was tasty but in too small of a portion. We had to pick us up some small BBQ treats at Real Urban BBQ in Vernon Hills before we went home. You know you are a BBQ addict when that the third time that week you had gone through their rotating doors. 

In all Firkin is a dining experience better fit for drinks and appetizers. Though the food doesn’t warrant being charged that much, and yes the drinks can add up, you’ll still have a better night out there than down the street at Mickey Finn’s or Morgan’s, unless you don’t care what your taste buds are telling you. In the times I have been with my brothers and friends to Firkin, I secretly wish we had the place to ourselves to sip drinks that have blown our minds. I savor the cherry flavored ale Kasteel Rouge, the fruity cider Zombie Killer, or a hearty micro-brew stout or the best mead on the planet - Iquilika – knowing that Firkin provided a good education. 

 http://firkinoflibertyville.com/