Pretzel #7: Not Your Dad’s Pretzel

Craft & Logic Taproom, Truckee, CA

Every year my brother (Dave) and I spend a day commemorating the birthday of our father, who passed away in 2017. We would visit sites where Dad had taken the family on vacation–which were almost exclusively hot and dusty campgrounds in the Sierra foothills. These trips with Dave are a good way to remember Dad, reminiscing about key memories like passing through Sacramento’s 105-degree temperatures in our non-air conditioned station wagon or the time that Dad rigged up a broom in place of the tent pole he somehow lost.

It’s funny how the passage of time transforms painful or tedious experiences into nostalgic memories. The 12-year-old me found much to complain about, what with mosquitoes and poison oak and campfire-burned toast and sleeping in a thin sleeping back on rocky ground. But today, I would give anything to relive those experiences. And in particular to spend some time with Dad again.

In the past few annual outings for Dad’s birthday, Dave and I have come to realize that there are only a few places that Dad ever took us: primarily the Wild Plum campground on the north Yuba River, and D.L Bliss State Park near Lake Tahoe.

Eventually Dave and I tired of returning to these usual sites, and so we’ve decided to instead visit places that we never visited with Dad, but that we wish we had. This year we chose a long hike through an old, abandoned railroad tunnel that the Central Pacific cut out of solid granite near Truckee in the 1860s. Dad would have loved everything about this place: Its history, its status as a major engineering feat, and, most importantly, its free admission.

Anyway, after exploring the tunnel I talked Dave into getting a pretzel with me in the town of Truckee (pop: 17,000). We ended up at Craft & Logic Taproom. Their motto promises an “elevated craft beer experience,” but I’d say the only thing that was elevated was the prices. Dave and I each had one beer and we shared a pretzel order. The bill came to $45. This might be why, during the lunch hour on a beautiful September day, Dave and I were the only customers.

The first thing that strikes one about these “pretzels” is the odd shape. Rather than a traditional pretzel knot, these pretzels had the shape of a giant banana slug, complete with antennae. The other analogy that comes to mind is the Vincent Price classic, The Tingler.

Now, I know that the shape shouldn’t affect the taste, but it certainly affects the eating experience, from how you hold it and break pieces off of it, how you get a purchase with your teeth, how it appeals (or not) to your visual senses. All that said, these “twists” had a positively delicious pretzel taste. They presented a perfect glossy sheen, there was a satisfying snap when you bit into it, and the dough was chewy and warm and fresh. The salt was distributed perfectly.

Then there’s the sauces. As is evident in the photo, there’s a bit of fussiness in the presentation. The stuff that looks like stone-ground mustard was mighty tasty, with a subtle honey sweetness. It paired perfectly with the pretzel and offered an unexpected zing. The so-called beer cheese, alas, was where this otherwise-wonderful experience failed. There was no cheesy tang. There was no beery malt. It offered nothing interesting or complex. This so-called beer cheese offered all the excitement of a thousand island dressing pouch from a take-out salad at Wendy’s.

Still, everything else was so spot-on that I’ll give this four stars. Definitely an enjoyable snack. But prepare yourself for the price!

PRETZEL TRIVIA

So, the other day we discussed the world’s largest pretzel. Today let’s take a look at the world’s smallest pretzel.

It’s actually a video of someone making three teeny pretzels, using teeny equipment. There’s something very charming and entertaining and relaxing about this video. It’s well worth the two minutes it takes to watch. Enjoy!