On the Yahara A-Z

R.

Recumbant to One Barrel for a Banjo Cat.  The new sleekest ride in town is the Catrike, a low-rider recumbant bike that sports three wheels, the main two of which does not, as most initially imagine,

ride in the back but is set ingeniously at the front of the hips near the seat of the rider.  Turning this sleek cat set up in such a way that all it takes is a slight twist of the wrists and the two steering wheels, virtually connected to the hand and brake grips, are very responsive because of the center of weight distribution.  And so, other than the fact that the Catrike sits so low to the ground you can see the ants crossing the street in front of you, the ride is safe, solid and sleek.  Deck out the Catrike with two grocery bags in back and you have a mobile shopper; put your flag up so that cars know you are down there and you have a town crosser; place a light in front and blinking tail light in back and you have a bar hopper.  It's not much more than a six block cruise to get to One Barrel Brewing Company

near Atwoood on Winnebago street, the small-scale brewer with big ideas, and what many might claim one of the more pure small brewers in Madison whose motto is a tongue and cheek commitment to good beer for everyone, "Veritas Per Crapula: One Barrel Brewing Company is rooted in historic brewing lore.  Founded during the 377th annual meeting of the Gentleman's

Brewing and Distilling Society, it was decreed that OBBC would showcase how approachable making and drinking all manner of beer can be." The lore part might be a bunch of baloney, but the Brewery definitely makes good beer approachable, as all of the means and machinery of production are right there at the end of the bar in vats awaiting their turn for consumption and many of the barley and malts are handpacked inside small twist jars that are tap handles to remind patrons of their of their current tastings.  We tried the Banjo Cat Black India Black Ale as well as a sour ale and a saison

infused, only slightly, with cherries.  The Banjo Cat won out, delivering a viable competitor to any stout or porter in the business.  The black ale is a difficult one to make great, often leaving a bitter residue on the back of the tongue or a sour twang in the belly, but the Banjo Cat includes what is called a dry hop addition that leaves it with a citrusy aroma and wet aftertaste, not a deep or dark linger.  Whatever it all is, the Black and the Penguin are fast becoming city favorites and can be found in beer departments around the state.  A growler just fits in the side bag of a well-lit Catrike at night.