Sarah and me had a tasty sampler meal courtesy of the brand-spanking-new St.Louis location at 528 Yonge Street. Thing is, I’m not keen on pushing a new joint just ‘cuz they stuffed me ‘n my gal’s gobs but, in all honesty, if they can keep up the quality of the food we scarfed down last week, I’ll happily recommend the place.

The two headliners, wings and ribs, did well with me; the rack was tender and ensconced in a thick, smoky, ribby sauce (thumbs up), and the wings were crispy and properly spicy (thumbs up again). They weren’t breaded or really very saucy, two things that would bother me on wings of lesser quality, but it worked out well with these ones.

I would’ve liked to have washed our din-dins down with a pint of Rickard’s White but they weren’t quite stocked up ahead of the official opening today. They’re also working on the patio to get it down to legal dimensions, I’m told, so in the meantime the best you can do is sit in the big window facing Yonge. I could think of worse things.

Breasts, bikes, and beer; the triumvirate of alliterative seduction is now complete!

At around this time last year, the Rickard’s beer company (one of a number Molson‘s subsidiaries), introduced a white wheat beer that I had absolutely no interest in. It’s not that I don’t enjoy beer but my interest in it wanes, much like my interest in full-time employment. Currently, it’s waxing.

Usually I imbibe my alcoholic beverages with deep political convictions; a pint of Guinness with a sipping shot of B52, for example. Rickard’s White, though, doesn’t really make a statement other than “I taste good” — which it does.

White ale, if you’re not familiar with it, is an unfiltered beer (hence the cloudiness), that has orange peel and coriander added to it to produce a slightly citrusy flavour. Unlike lager, ale is fermented more quickly and at room temperature (lager’s kept cold).

I’ve poured all sorts of fermented crap down my gullet and this drink is truly inoffensive. The slice of orange (sometimes lemon), shown in the photo is how it’s served at various pubs around Toronto. Friday afternoon’s tart and bitter post-work bitch-outs at Shoeless Joe’s just wouldn’t be possible without it.

I’m hardly a scholar of beer and it’s fair to say that the term “enthusiast” wouldn’t apply to me, but I can recommend this one. It’s the gateway drug of the legal alcohol world.

If I could leave just one parting note to our American neighbours, I would point out that Canadian beer tends to contain a man-level of alcohol (5.5%+), so take your time. And for the rest of you who may be wondering why this entry is uncharactersitically short, you will find your answer at the bottom of my pint glass.

Cheers!