Pretzel #22: Pretz-well

October 22, 2026October 22, 2026 steveboilard1 Comment

BJ’s Restaurant and Brewhouse, Folsom, CA

As a rule I try to avoid big restaurant chains, which to me always feel impersonal and corporate, overseen by unseen pencil-pushers living thousands of miles away. The logo and decor and menu seem to have been focus-grouped to within an inch of their lives. If you’ve been to an Applebees or Olive Garden, you know what I mean.

I’ve generally placed BJ’s Brewhouse into this same category. They have 217 restaurants across 30 states. Surely to satisfy customers in that many regions, you have to sand off any interesting or unusual aspects to your business model. But here it is, the 22nd day of October, and I’m getting desperate to find nine more pretzels. So off to BJ’s I went.

I ordered their “Big Twist Pretzel with Beer Dip.” See what I mean? Even the pretzel’s name screams recent-graduate-with-a-bachelors-in-marketing-from-Ohio-State.

When the pretzel showed up, it looked perfect…maybe too perfect.

*Note the crime scene splatter of buttery goodness on the paper.*

Look at that superb shape–impeccably symmetrical, golden brown, with a lovely sheen and gracefully knotted in the middle. There’s not the slightest surface crack or width irregularity or other evidence that this wasn’t extruded by a soulless machine. It was simply too perfect.

But I had a job to do, so I took a bite. It was piping hot, slightly salty, and pleasantly chewy. It had evidently been brushed with butter, which complemented the salt nicely, and through it all came a genuine, comforting pretzel taste. I tried another bite. This was a damn good pretzel.

I then dipped a piece in the beer cheese, which, I learned, is house-made. It tasted delicious and was definitely of high quality, though I could detect no beer flavor. (The server said they make it with their Brewhouse Blonde ale, which is a German Kölsch-style pale ale. I’m guessing the beer is perhaps too light to stand up to the cheddar, which was prominent.)

The server also told me that they source their pretzels from US Foods®. Before I started this project I would have frowned on that revelation. But as we’ve learned after three weeks of pretzel reviews, almost no one makes their pretzels in-house. So I’m not going to hold that against them.

I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this pretzel. I was prepared to lambaste it as low-quality schlock from a budget-constrained recipe imposed by the corporate office in Huntington Beach. But this was seriously one of the best pretzel experiences I’ve had this month. It’s definitely worth 4.5 stars. The only minor flaws holding back a full five stars are the androgenous, characterless appearance, and lack of beer taste in the beer cheese. Fix that, and you’ve got the coveted Apotheosis Pretzel.

PRETZEL TRIVIA

OK, all you baseball fans: Who’s this?

I’ll give you a hint: He played the 1935 and 1936 seasons for the Phillies. He also had an earned-run average of 6.36, which I’m told ain’t that great.

His name at birth was John Pezzullo. But his odd, twisting pitching windup earned him the nickname “Pretzel” Pezzullo. According to Philly Baseball News, “He began the motion with a high leg kick, then dropped down to a sidearm release — a contorted sequence that left hitters thoroughly confused.”

After his two unremarkable seasons with the Phillies, “Pretzel” Pezzullo spent a few years paying in the minor leagues. He retired from professional baseball in 1941, after which he “designed aircraft missile models,” whatever that means.

Pretzel #17: Wok This Way

October 17, 2026October 17, 2026 steveboilard5 Comments

Great Basin Brewing Company in Carson City, NV

A little bit ago I had just returned to the United States after a brief visit to the Republic of Molossia. I had just cleared customs and was looking for some good American cooking. I’ve found that when I’m in an unfamiliar area–such as Dayton, Nevada–independent brew pubs are generally a good bet. The presence of fresh, bespoke beer is always a good foundation for any meal. On top of this, the owners of these small businesses are almost always present, ensuring quality control. Their menus are almost always innovative without being crazy, and generally center on the four basic food groups (loaded burgers, soft tacos, enormous salads, and fried appetizers).

I, of course, was looking for a pretzel. I found a place called Great Basin Brewing Company just east of Carson City, Nevada. Thankfully, the menu did indeed include a “Brewery Pretzel.” The description was a little confusing though: “Brioche pretzel twist, garlic butter, coarse salt, beer cheese.” As we all know, a brioche is kind of a cross between bread and pastry. In other words, in a whole different category than a pretzel, which is closer to a bagel than a pastry. But I was famished from my international travel, and wasn’t in a position to be choosy. I ordered the pretzel.

*This photo comes from Great Basin’s website, since the photo I took was blurry. But rest assured that mine looked identical, including that cute little wok* *(or whatever it is).*

The first thing that strikes you about this so-called pretzel is that it resembles an exclamation point without the dot at the bottom. It also resembles what you would have discovered on the sidewalks of New York before they began enforcing dog clean-up laws. Either way, Great Basin calls this a “brioche pretzel twist.” I’m not sure it works. It lacks the classic shape of a proper Bavarian pretzel made of rolled dough, and thus seems to me to be less fun to eat. Certainly it’s less familiar, thus distancing it from the category of “comfort food.”

When I bit into it, there was a bit of a pretzely crunch. But this isn’t because it had been boiled in lye; rather, it’s because it was overbaked. Indeed, this pretzel (if I can call it that) was almost (but not quite) burnt. More damningly, it lacked that chewy texture that’s the whole point of a soft pretzel. This pretzel was really just a misshapen loaf of bread. Further, the distribution of salt on my pretzel (but not on the pretzel in the photo above) was horribly uneven. A couple of patches were way oversalted, alongside entirely bare patches. It’s the pretzel version of eczema.

But just when it seems that this is a total loss, you encounter the amazing beer cheese. It’s extremely cheddary, with rich flavor and a slight taste of beer in the background. This beer cheese was so good that I finished it off with my finger after the pretzel was long gone. Oh, and it comes in a cool little wok(?) that I would have slipped into my pocket if the server hadn’t been keeping such a close eye on me.

I learned that the pretzel (as we’ve now come to expect) was not made in house. Rather, it comes from Liberty Food and Wine Exchange, which, so far as I can tell, is a legit restaurant in the Reno area. So the pretzels do not come from some soulless restaurant supplier like Sysco. Happily, the beer cheese in made in-house, which, as we’re coming to learn, is generally a guarantee of quality.

Once again I have to give a middle score to this dish, with a pretzel I don’t understand and beer cheese that is the stuff of fantasies. 3 stars.

PRETZEL TRIVIA

Surely you know the storied musical group Steely Dan. At the very least, you’ve heard some of their hits like “Do It Again” or “Reelin’ In the Years.” They exploded onto the scene in 1972, and somehow both captured the Zeitgeist and influenced it. Steely Dan were jazz-influenced musical perfectionists, and it’s a bit XX that so many of their songs are now considered Easy Listening.

Steely Dan’s third studio album was released in 1974. Unless you’re a fan, the only song from that album you’ve probably heard is “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” But the album spent 36 weeks on the Billboard 200, and managed to rise to #8. The critical reception was generally good. Creem wrote “The music can be called jazzy without implying an insult, and Donald Fagen and Walter Becker are the real world’s answer to Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia [of the Grateful Dead].” On the other hand, Stereo Review’s critic wrote “the lyrics baffle me; maybe they know what they’re talking about, but I can’t get a clue.”

According to the book Steely Dan FAQ, the group struggled with coming up a title for this album. They wanted the title to convey “the seedy, sexual side of life,” but couldn’t agree on specific wording. So they settled on using the title of one of the tracks to name the album. And that track was–drumroll please–“Pretzel Logic.”

*Ah, the days of 15-cent pretzels. Or “pretzles,” at least.*

The album cover photo was taken by celebrity photographer Raeanne Rubenstein, on the west side of Fifth Avenue at 79th Street. It’s said the vendor in the photo refused to sign a release for the photo to be used, but the label’s executives discovered that the vendor was operating without a license, and figured he wouldn’t dare get enmeshed in any legal action. So they slapped the photo on the album cover, and there were no repercussions.

2026 Oktoberfest Pretzels · Breweries

Pretzel #4: Edgar Allan Pretzel

October 4, 2026October 4, 2026 steveboilard2 Comments

So I’m here in Baltimore (pop: 570,000) for PoeFest. It got me wondering why they call this town “Charm City.” Turns out it was part of a deliberate branding campaign by mayor William Donald Schaefer in 1974. Working with a group of PR flacks, he settled on the nickname “Charm City, USA.” Tourists coming to town received a starter charm bracelet, and could collect additional charms by visiting various sites around the city.

*An original starter charm from the 1970s*

The charms are no more, but the nickname seems to have stuck. Which is all well and good, but the folks who put on PoeFest want you to think of Poe when you think of Baltimore. Poe only lived here for about three years, but he wrote several of his most notable works here, and he happened to be passing through town when he died in 1849. What’s more, he’s still here, buried in the churchyard of Westminster Hall. It’s not for nothing that the local football team is named The Ravens.

*Raising a toast last night at Poe’s gravesite.*

Anyway, here I am in Baltimore, and because I was feeling a bit peckish around noon yesterday I paid a visit to the Pratt Street Ale House. It’s not far from where Poe had lived–about a mile away, as the raven flies.

The Ale House is situated in a wonderful historic building that dates back to 1888 and for many years was home to the Pratt Furniture Company. It became the Pratt Street Ale House in 2009.

Much of the historic interior features have been preserved, including the brick walls and an antique elevator.

*That’s quite an indicator dial over the doors…but it serves only a three-story structure. I’m guessing it’s not original to this building.*

Once I got situated I ordered the Soft Pretzel and a Raven Beer Special Lager. I thought seventeen bucks seemed a bit steep for a pretzel, but it turns out I was paying for two:

Sadly, the pretzel(s) did not match the quality of the setting. The moment I picked one up to take a bite, it broke under its own weight like a desiccated mummy. This pretzel was drier than James Bond’s martini. It was more crumbly than a Costco granola bar. It was…you get the idea.

Seriously, it seemed to me that this pretzel was made with biscuit dough rather than bread flour. And that goes for both the texture and the taste. I tried a small piece without salt or any condiments, and I seriously could not identify any taste at all. It wasn’t just bready, it was as vapid and dry as a week-old Pillsbury biscuit. I suspect that they got the nice brown color by brushing them with butter and sending them straight to the oven, without the benefit of boiling in alkali.

The beer cheese, however…that’s a different matter altogether. It’s delicious! Unlike what’s served in most pubs, this beer cheese actually has an identifiable beer taste. I learned that Pratt Street sources the beer from a local brewery (Oliver Brewing Company) that used to be housed in this very building. The beer imparts a malty, yeasty note to the beer cheese, providing complexity and depth. I think Pratt Street’s beer cheese contains more beer than most beer cheeses, because this is the first time my senses definitely identified strong beer notes. Even better, they did not skimp on the cheese side of the equation. This stuff was flavorful and delightful and frankly addictive. After loading up a few chunks of pretzel with the beer cheese, I ended up just eating the beer cheese straight with my spoon. The pretzel was that superfluous.

The Dijon mustard was OK. It did its job. But I wouldn’t eat it on its own!

Zero stars for the pretzel, 5 stars for the beer cheese, and 3 stars for the mustard. Weighted total: 2.5 stars.

PRETZEL TRIVIA

There are two kinds of Guinness Records: Those that just happen (tallest human, oldest wooden building, heaviest cat) and those that result from the efforts of someone who wants to be in the Guinness Book (the most snails on one’s face for 10 seconds, the most watermelons chopped on one’s stomach in a minute, cycling backwards with a violin. I’m not making these up). (Incidentally, the Guinness people have retired the “heaviest cat” category because cat owners were overfeeding their cats expressly to be in the Guinness book. I’m not making this up, either.)

*Our cat Vincent–potential winner if Guinness ever brings back the “heaviest cat” category.*

Anyway, the people of Freeport, Illinois (also known as “Pretzel City USA–see my blog post) set a record in the latter (contrived) category in 2025, when they created “the largest human pretzel image” with 603 people forming the outline of a giant pretzel.

I really don’t see the point, but it seems harmless enough. Unlike overfeeding your cat.

Breweries · churches

La Birra del Giorno

August 8, 2026 steveboilard2 Comments

Today I decided to track down a very special Brew of the Day. This quest took me to the site of a crucial World War II battle, in an abbey where Saint Benedict himself is entombed.

Oh, did I not mention I’m in Italy?

I speak, of course, of Montecassino Abbey, which Benedict founded high on a mountain in central Italy in 529. It’s an impressive structure and is considered the largest abbey in the world.

I won’t go through the full 15 centuries of history, so let’s jump forward to 1943, when Nazi Germany held control over Italy. Given its central, mountaintop location, the abbey was a key strategic site.

After the Allies defeated the Axis forces in North Africa, they turned to the task of liberating Italy. Allied troops landed in Sicily in July of 1943, and began slowly marching north toward Rome. By the winter of 1944 they were approaching the region of Montecassino. They believed the Germans had taken up positions at the abbey (a belief that may have been mistaken) and so in February Allied planes began a massive bombing of the structure. It was destroyed, and many monks and townspeople died. War, as they say, is hell.

*After the bombing (apologies to Engelbert Humperdink) in 1944. [Di Bundesarchiv, Bild 146-2005-0004 / Wittke]*

The structure was completely and faithfully rebuilt after the war, and the abbey remains active and important to this day. Indeed, the Pope visited here just a couple of weeks ago.

*Inside the abbey’s church today, when I visited.*

Now here’s the important part: It’s said that the abbey’s monks had been brewing beer since the time of St. Benedict (who himself advocated brewing as a form of self-sufficiency for the abbey). They grew their own barley and used rock-filtered water from a nearby spring. This all ended in 1944 with the Allied bombing.

Then–a miracle!–brewing came back to the abbey in 2018, when an entrepreneur named Daniele Miri launched Birrificio Montecassino (“Montecassino Brewery”). He set the place up in a rustic building on the abbey grounds.

And so it was that this afternoon I found myself at the brewery with friends Kristen and Dave, who happen to spend a couple of months in this region every summer. It was a hot day, and we had visions of a nice, welcoming brewpub with homemade beers on tap, a chatty brewmaster behind the bar, some good pub food, and comfortable high-tops. But it turned out to be more of a, well, Benedictine kind of brewery. The place is like a crowded warehouse with fermenting tanks running at full speed and workers turning valves and connecting hoses. There was really no room for guests, other than a small sales counter in the corner where a busy worker told us “we have three beers. Which do you want?” I chose the “Dubbel,” and we made our way to what appeared to be an old church pew in a shady spot outside of the brewery.

And that finally brings us to the:

BOTD

A Dubbel is a type of ale often associated with modern Belgian beers. It’s a traditional abbey-style ale. Like Birrificio’s other beers, it’s brewed using the same process used by the monks at Montecassio. So they’re again using that natural spring water and estate-grown barley, and allowing relying on the yeast to naturally carbonate the beer.

And you know what? This is a stunningly good beer. Let me count the ways. First, it has a rich, dark-chestnut color that’s got hints of dark ruby.

*Great beer, mediocre (plastic) glassware.*

Second, that natural carbonation is more delicate and better integrated than what you get from typical pressure-blasted CO2. This beer is fizzy enough to be interesting and bright, without assaulting your tongue and palate with what feels like a pack of Pop Rocks at every sip. Probably because of this, the beer has almost no head, save a bit of tan foam around the edges.

But let’s talk about the flavor: it’s malty and slightly sweet, with recognizable caramel and toffee flavors, mingled with hints of brown sugar and maybe anise. There’s just enough hops to prevent the sweetness from dominating. At 6.5 percent ABV, there’s also a slight alcohol burn that wards off any danger cloyingness that sometimes afflicts this style.

Now, in full disclosure, I should note that I was rather parched and hot when I drank this beer, so that may have contributed to my pleasure in drinking it. But there was absolutely no mistaking that I was drinking a high-quality, well-balanced beer. I may need to try another one.

Five stars.

Breweries · movie theaters · Movies · Road trips

Ladies and Gentlemen: Blobfest!

July 11, 2026 steveboilardLeave a comment

Finally–after over two years of waiting, this morning I finally returned to Phoenixville, PA (pop: 18,600) to attend the 26th annual Blobfest.

This has got to be one of the high points of the year for Phoenixville. Most of the main drag (Bridge Street) was closed to vehicular traffic, and well over 100 vendors were setting up tables to promote their blob-related (or blog-adjacent) wares.

Many of the businesses along the street got into the spirit of things, with blob-themed displays everywhere. Now, let me take a moment to acknowledge that “blob-themed) is a rather malleable category…by definition. Some chose to portray it as a cute figure reminiscent of Western Kentucky University’s “Big Red.”

Others opted for oozing slime which was more reminiscent of blood than “blob.”

Still others went the circus route, which is the ill-advised theme of this year’s Blobfest.

And then there was this….pizza(?)

Anyway, my point is that the entire town (or at least the Bridge Street) was decked out for a proper Blobfest. The festivities were attended by myriad people of all ages and dispositions. Accordingly, there was a play zone and a story time for the little blobs:

Happily, two of the Blobfest attendees were horror author Holly Knightley and her mother, April. They were game to do a photo op from within the blob:

*Holly (left) and April meet their demise.*

(You can check out Holly’s books here.)

Also in the Small World Department: I ran into Ashley Galleo, who is the manager of the American Treasure Tour, that I wrote about in yesterday’s blog. I asked Ashley what binds together the disparate items in that collection, and she said the anonymous collector seeks out things that are “mechanical and fun,” and that bring “joy.” Next time you’re in eastern Pennsylvania, you should check it out.

*Ashley with a minuscule sample from the American Treasure Tour.*

But the real star of the Blobfest was the historic Colonial Theater. Originally constructed in 1902 as the Colonial Opera House, it has spent the one-and-a-quarter century as a vaudeville house, a live performance venue, and a movie theater. Notably for our purposes, key scenes from The Blob were filmed in and around the Colonial Theater.

*My photo from this morning, before Blobfest started. Note the marquee display is the same. Also note the inflatable blob.*

I joined a packed house for a screening of The Blob this afternoon. The interior of the theater looks much like it did in 1958, and probably much earlier than that.

*Mystery mural on the mezzanine level. I couldn’t discover what it depicts. Ideas?*

And the back of the house, on the wall of the projection booth, is this plaque:

Now might be a good time to explain the movie to those of you who haven’t seen it. It’s a classic B-movie horror film, starring a young Steve McQueen. A small meteorite strikes the earth, and it contains a softball-sized “blob” of gelatinous goo. A hapless old man ends up getting the goo stuck on his hand, and before long the blob has entirely digested him, growing in the process. The blob goes on to claim other victims, until it’s big enough to cover an entire diner. Finally Steve McQueen figures out how to stop its reign of terror, but you’ll have to watch it (or search IMDB) to find out how.

Let’s acknowledge that this is not a great movie. The pacing is uneven, the dialogue is (unintentionally) laughable, the “special effects” are unconvincing, and there are plot holes aplenty. Still, it’s an earnest movie, and Steve McQueen is eminently likable. On top of all that, there’s a moral lesson at the end that bears a special resonance today. But I think what I enjoyed most about watching it today was sitting in that same Colonial Theater, with several hundred fans, cheering and laughing together. There aren’t many such opportunities for a communal experience like that these days.

Oh, and speaking of communal experiences: after the evening showing all the patrons ran out of the theater screaming, just like in the movie. I’ll close my report on Blobfest with this short video of the run-out:

BOTD

The Brew of the Day was, appropriately, a Blobfest IPA, that comes from Phoenixville’s own SlyFox Brewing Company.

*You could only buy draft versions for consumption, so I had the owner hold up a can of the stuff for your benefit.*

This is the third year that SlyFox has put out a special beer for Blobfest. I admire that kind of commitment–especially as several of the local bars and eateries have offered nothing blob-related. In fact, that window art of a blob ice cream cone that I featured above was not available as the real thing. Talk about a missed opportunity!

So kudos to SlyFox for doing the Blob IPA. It’s a hazy IPA that clocks in at 6.3 percent alcohol. So that’s good. What’s not good is the taste. I found it far too bitter, too overhopped. And that’s not just on the palate; it also characterizes the finish. In other words, there’s a distinct, lingering bitterness….which also describes me, but that’s another issue altogether. I frankly found this to be almost undrinkable, and ending up tossing it out halfway through.

Now, to be fair, I’m not a fan of IPAs, but I think I can appreciate when they’re done well. In my humble opinion, the recipe missed on this one. One star.