I was completely ignorant to the existence of Sun King in Indianapolis. If it wasn’t for my girlfriend’s cousin living down there, I would still be in the dark. We had posted up on the patio of some nice place in some hip neighborhood. There were a handful of breweries around but we had the kids so we went to a restaurant that served a good selection. I quickly came to realize that Indianapolis has a rather underrated craft brew scene.
We were seated outside by the canal that ran through town. The cousin that the kids call “Uncle Josh” suggested some Midwest beers, but I was happy to say that I had already tried the ones he had mentioned. The waiter came out and immediately suggested the dark IPA by Sun King. He told me that they only brew a limited amount, and that this was the only restaurant that carried it on tap. Uncle Josh also spoke highly of it, so there it was. That is what I drank.
My girlfriend had their golden ale, which impressed me. She drank it and liked it. I liked it too. When she gets to beer drinking, it is all about the Michelob Ultra. I drank one of those one time. It tasted better than the tap water in the basement, but wasn’t as substantial.
Mr. Waiter and Uncle Josh were correct, the dark IPA was so solid that I had to swing into the brewery on the way out of town.
I have been to Chicago. I have been to St. Louis. I have seen their slums and ghettos. I know that much of Detroit is worse. My expectations of Midwestern cities is very low. Indianapolis is a breath of fresh air. I am sure that it has its spots, but it was a very impressively clean and pleasant city. Traffic was reasonable, streets were marked, and I don’t remember seeing any homeless. The brewery was off the freeway and easy to find. I parked, left the family in the car, and went in.
It is clearly a brewery. It is not built to be a shiny cornerstone of the community, but a solid functional brewery. There is a door to the office of the warehouse through which you enter. Once inside, a lady checks your ID. She sits in a booth in front of the entrance. You cannot enter through the exit so don’t get any crazy ideas. The door to the warehouse is completely transparent, but you can’t see everything—only enough to create excitement. You can see that some people are drinking around tables. You can see that pallets of beer are stacked to the ceiling—nay, stacked to Heaven.
Do you remember when you were a kid in the admission line at Disney Land?
It’s like that.
For some reason they did not charge a cover. They fucking could have. I would have paid it. I stepped up to the bar. I don’t know how many taps there were, but there were a lot, and I know that they were all good. There were two fellas pouring beer. You could tell that wasn’t their primary job—shit, they might not have even been on the clock—they did not pour beer out of necessity, they poured beer out of love.
Love beer is the best beer.
I bull shat with them for a little while. We discussed beer in the Northwest. They were not from there but looked the part.
It was very apparent that Sun King was the big boy in town, but they had also not lost their small time personality. If I am to ever see Sun King beer out west I will certainly drink it in front of people, and explain that even though it is not Northwest beer, it is still respectable and worth a taste.
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