Popination Verification

a series of unhinged personal essays disguised as pub reviews. Today: TRVE Brewing Co.

Also apparently Music City Hot Chicken. Yum.

If I was less hardcore about my rhymes I’d call this essay Popination Ascension. Because that’s the day it was in church the day I visited this brewery (besides Mother’s Day). But since it’s Trve Brewery, I think you’ll no doubt approve of my word choice. And yes, it is spelled with a v and not a u. Also, I think it’s supposed to be all in caps maybe? I dunno. But I digress, because I’m a giant word nerd. Let’s get to the place…

Trve was suggested to me by an IC Brewhouse friend, who learned about my Popinations and thought I’d dig this brewery. I’d heard of it before but hadn’t been there, and when I heard it was another cool looking place somewhat near the cathedral, I did another post-lector Popination over to Trve. Seems like a really popular place too—once noon rolled around, the place got pretty busy. Also at the separate food counter too: the brewery itself doesn’t serve food, but there’s a cleverly embedded chicken shack style restaurant that’s a wee window in the very back, and when the gentleman sitting next to me at the bar got his order of tenders and tots delivered to him, it looked and smelled delish. I’ll have to try some fries next time I’m there: one of my favorite afternoon comestibles of yore (through to today) is a tasty pint accompanied by fried potatoes of some kind.

So here we are at another Metal themed brewery. What is it about those two things that go together? But obviously this place isn’t alone: I’ve written about, what. 3 others? This is not a complaint, by the way; I find this environment comforting and lovely, so the more the merrier. Funny enough, Shazam couldn’t recognize or find any of the music playing as I sat there at the bar, either, whether crusty, sludgy or screamy. Methinks that’s a good sign. But it sluices my soul, to go from the light themes of church to this safe and comforting darkness (of a distinctly Satanic flavor). Why is that? Something about the joy and healing properties of dark stuff like this, I think. It’s a balance. It’s chthonic and cathartic. 

I didn’t get a look at their merch on this visit, but I did shop in that fridge opposite, and brought a very funky old ale home to share.

It was a rainy, gloomy day (for CO anyway) but even so my eyes had to adjust as I walked in. A perfect day for a dark Metal bar. It was dark and divey inside but not really Goth as much as Metal themed, so quite a bit harder than elegant, if that makes sense (though there were lots of dark paint and candles everywhere still). Not only Metal, but also death themed: a whole line of beautiful death-depicting artworks (with a wall-facing bar underneath), adorned the East wall, all created by a local artist and for sale. I didn’t notice if it was the same as Incantation but the setup was very similar. Much Metal is indeed death themed, so the decor made sense. But still. I wonder why. Is it a memento mori kind of thing? Of course, now that I think about it, much church is also death themed, too. And resurrection, of course. But bloody death first. And! a lot of Metal music touches on church themes. Beer, Metal, and church? Call me Friar Jenn, I’m all about it.

Now that’s an aesthetically pleasing pint, I must say.

So. Since I had just been at church, I ordered a Nazareth first. It’s a flavorful double IPA—very fruity and fortifying and not cloying the way a lot of doubles can be. Next, I tried a DIPA (Denver IPA) called Verdant Paths to Radiance. Which. What a name! How could I resist. This one was a normal IPA, not a double, so it was a lot lighter, with cinnamon and orange on the nose (and incense, too, though maybe that was just latent from where I just had come from). Taste wise, it was a pleasantly bitter and complex IPA. Quite pleased, me. Both of these brews though are 8%ers, so I got 10 oz pours only, not full pints. Really tasty though, in different ways. After, I had a Hellion to close: a session pale ale at only 4.5% (though I still did a 10 oz only). This was way more flavorful than most sessions I’ve tried, so again. Props to the brewers at Trve—they know what they’re doing.

They also had a skull under the taps, like Incantation did.

Why do I tend to sign up to be a church lector on Blue Dime show weekends? Am I atoning for sin? Or is it that I’m banking on still being in an ‘on’ performance mode by Sunday? Must be the latter—I don’t feel like burlesque is sin; I feel like it’s sacred. A beautiful and holy celebration of humankind and an empowering, joyful practice. With sparkles. Anyway the two types of performance, in my mind, complement each other. I have to reiterate, too, how this dark broody bloody stuff is actually warm and lovely and lifesaving.  Plus. How Metal is Catholicism? Really, it’s a joke but totally based on truth–it’s centered on blood and bread and yes, a magical cannibalism but it’s more than that, it’s a ritual wherein you come together and share, becoming one with your god but also with those around you. And anyone who’s been in a mosh pit will tell you the exact same thing. No, I’m not cheapening the Eucharist, nor am I over-elevating moshing. It’s done similarly, with communal fire, and for the same reasons. Communion. Community. An elevated state. This is my body, given for you. Onstage. And an altar is absolutely a stage, and church is totally a theatrical production, weekly. That’s not sacrilege. Think about it.

SIDE NOTE:

I don’t have a logical place to include this thought, but at church that day, there was a spooky tunnel of scaffolding lining the whole cathedral—it was like walking through a weird fae portal to a secret grotto as we processed through. I guess they’re repairing and cleaning all the stained glass, which is a huge and an involved process. I like the episcopal church because of its old rituals anyway, and this visual upped the cool awe of the thing. But it was spooky; I felt like it was a sort of metaphor to how I’m feeling about churchgoing right now and why I don’t attend as often as I used to. I’ll have to think about that. Maybe over a pint and some heavy metal.