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gayrefrain · 6 years ago

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Francy Fanfic: one strange journey

Relationship: Frank/Nancy

Word Count: ~4k

Tags: No mystery just fun, modern!au, halloween fun, slight violence, happy ending.

“This may be your dumbest idea yet,” Nancy told Joe as she adjusted the awful Haunted Bride costume on her torso. There was no way for her to fix the cleavage exposure. It was just going to have to stick around at the level of Too Much. Thankfully, it wasn’t popping out.

“I don’t know,” Frank played Devil’s advocate as he stuffed hay down his shirt. “Remember the time he ran to save a horse from an explosion with no regard for his own safety?”

“I have no regrets,” Joe said loftily, adjusting his white button down. He was the lucky one, working straightforward security for Bayport Halloween Carnival’s House of Horrors. Nancy was to patrol one of the last rooms as a Miss Havisham-like bride, but supernaturally evil in a thrift store wedding dress. Frank was just outside as the last scare, the evil Scarecrow in the yard in a large, Colonial-like blouse and tattered pants. He could almost be a rugged werewolf if he didn’t have hay sticking out of his sleeves.

George was organizing the event for the local children’s hospital, a giant scarefest for the entire town. She’d been working since the beginning of the summer, which was a match made in heaven because she knew how to organize like no one else.

The original plan was to have Nancy and Frank to work security with Joe, but when they lost two cast members last minute, Joe offered them in place.

“Besides, I think I show room for improvement,” Joe added.

“For getting smarter or getting dumber?” Nancy clarified.

“Because it’s up in the air,” Frank smirked.

“Shut up, Scarecrow,” The blond brother said. “But in all seriousness, thank you guys, we were gonna be totally screwed since Biff and Vanessa got sick.”

“Well, you totally owe us,” She said. “This dress is like wearing a brillo pad.”

“And this hay is no cashmere either,” Frank griped.

“You need more, bro,” Joe patted him on the shoulder. “We have the pre-meeting in ten minutes in the foyer. Be there or be square.” He left.

“Lucky bastard,” She muttered as she put on the green necklace that glowed eerily around her makeup-slathered neck. Her entire face was painted a pale blue, and her lips were painted dark red, almost like blood. She was almost afraid to look herself in the mirror.

“Too much hay?” Frank turned to her.

Not as much as my boobs right now, she almost said but bit her tongue.

The banter with the elder Hardy boy had gotten weird recently. It was the first time in years where they were both single at the same time. She’d always felt a jolt when she hung out with him, solving cases and cheating death. She attributed it to that. But now, they’re just in college. And the attraction has strengthened into a constant hum.

“You look great,” She reassured. “But you need the hat.”

He donned the straw hat and spread his hands with solid spirit fingers, and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her throat. “It’s weird to see you laugh like this,” He gestured to her whole look.

“Should I cackle instead?”

“That’d be preferable.”

She took a deep breath, and released a ghoulish cackle.

“Oh my god, you’re terrifying,” Bess squealed with delight as she and Chet rushed in the room. She had two makeup bags hooked around her neck, dangling against her body. “You both are. God, I’m amazing.”

“Good work, Bess,” Nancy said. “Even though I feel like I’ll need a shovel to get this makeup off.”

“I have makeup wipes that will work wonders,” Her friend reassured. “But after some photos and the haunted house.”

Chet took quick preliminary photos of them both, and a couple goofy ones. They then took selfies, all four of them, before surrendering their phones to Chet, who was in charge of lighting and tech. Phones “ruined the illusion” according to George, so they all had to be relinquished until after the event.

“Shit, we gotta go to the meeting,” Bess said, looking at her own phone. “Let’s go.”

Nancy nearly tripped over the stupid heels she had to wear. “Did we really need these for the aesthetic?” She griped.

“Use the discomfort in your character,” Frank suggested. She stuck her tongue out at him as they made their way through to the beginning of the maze.

In the foyer of the house, George stood on top of an old chest, wearing all black. She whistled as people started to pile in. “This will be super quick, guys, then we can get into positions. We’ll start letting people in right at 6pm. We have security volunteers to trail behind each group to make sure they’re leaving in a timely manner. We also have them to make sure people don’t get too frightened, and take people out if necessary.”

“Like take them out-” Tony, dressed as a zombie, playfully slid his thumb across his own neck.

“Yes, Prito,” George’s voice dripped sarcasm as everyone laughed. “We’re going to kill the people here who get scared.” She moved on, trying to hide a smirk. “For the first hour, it’s going to be mostly kids and families, so don’t worry about being crazy scary. Keep it simple. After the first round and a fifteen minute break, we’re doing the next hour for older teens and adults. Bring out your A game there. Everyone entering has signed a waiver, because I won’t allow any of us to get sued. The participants have been informed that this is all in good fun, but if something happens, call out the safeword ‘pumpkin’ and we’ll have security come ASAP. But this is all for the lols, so don’t worry, just have a good time. Remember, we’re doing this all for charity. And it’s looking to be one of the most lucrative events at the Carnival-”

“Let’s give it up for George!” Nancy shouted, clapping. Immediately, every participant clapped and cheered, and whistles pierced the air.

George smiled. “Seriously, guys, thank you for all your help. Let’s make this best damn House of Horrors ever!” She swung up an arm in victory, still holding her clipboard. They all whooped and hollered again. “If you have any questions, let me or security know, we’ll be the only ones connected by walkie.” She titled the black communication device back and forth in her grip. “Remember, kids, what’s our safeword?”

“Pumpkin,” They all dutifully repeated back.

“Good,” She grinned. “Let’s keep some Halloween ass. Everyone, take your places!”

Nancy and Frank started the walk to the long walk to their end of the House of Horror. She nearly face-planted in the stupid heels, but thankfully Frank was there to catch her.

“I’m a bit worried about you,” Frank admitted as they walked to the back of the ‘house’ (it was really an elaborate stage within their school’s gym. “You have the major jump scare. Someone could get too scared.”

“I’ll be fine,” She grabbed his hand and to give it a reassuring squeeze, but recoiled at the sharpness of the straw sticking out of his shirt. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding about the hay.”

“I never kid,” He said, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t just the haunted lights strung through the gym. “But be safe.”

“Promise,” She reassured. “You too, you have the last one.”

They shook on it.

“God, you look terrifying,” He said, a smile tilting his lips.

She cackled again, but it lost its terror after she started to cough. “God,” She cleared her throat. “I won’t be able to do that all night.”

“You know the adage,” He said. “‘Nothing is scarier.’ Just say nothing.”

“Ooh, that’ll save my voice,” She beamed as they entered her “parlor.” She steadied herself on the heels. God, why did people wear these things?

“Places people!” George shouted, echoing through the hardwood floors.

“We better get in our places,” Nancy said.

Frank nodded. “Stay safe, Nance.”

She nodded back, and he left through the final door, a false one marked THE END before a fake cornfield with Frank standing by the real exit.

She stretched out her limbs, wincing at the rough fabric scraping against her skin. She contorts her face, and gets ready for a night of horror.

Working a haunted house was definitely not as entertaining as going through one. She had to do the same scare every five minutes, getting screamed at in turn, which is very disconcerting. One kid cried, but thankfully her mom was right there. Mostly, everyone was pumped and excited to be frightened. One kid even said as he left, “That wasn’t so scary” only to shriek when he saw Frank as a scarecrow. She had to stifle her giggle then. When it was Joe’s turn to pull up the rear of the group, he winked at her and faked being a Zombie with arms outstretched, or dancing like a 1920s can-can dancer. He switched it up every rotation. She couldn’t help but smile then either. The hour flew by, and then it was time for the break.

“How’s it going?” Frank walked to her room, taking off the ridiculous hat.

She kicked off her heels, and hopped on one foot so she could rub her feet. “When I can wear slippers, I’ll be thrilled,” She said, thinking of their friend group’s plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover at the Hardy House that night when the event was over. “Otherwise, I’m great. We have a ton of people here.”

Frank nodded. Some of his makeup had sweat off, and his hair was matted to his forehead. Why did she find that so damn attractive?

“The event’s going real well,” He agreed. “The kids were so cute. Did you see the fairy princess?”

“I did,” She cooed, thinking of the little girl with a sparkly pink dress and tiara made of sequins. “She said she wished I’d fall in love again so I could be happy.”

“That’s adorable,” Frank said, then cleared his throat. She pressed her lips together and switched to the other foot.

Before she could respond, a sharp whistled pierced the air. “Actors!” George’s voice called through. “Meet me in the cauldron room now!”

Nancy and Frank shared a look. Leaving her shoes off to the corner, they walk to the cauldron room. George stood with Joe, Bess, and Chet as Iola stood as a cliche witch in front of giant bowl of neon goop.

“What’s going on?” Frank asked.

“We just got an influx of college students to the ticket booth,” George said. “They all want to do the haunted house too, so they asked if we could stay open another hour.”

Half of them groaned. Nancy was one of that half. Her feet were sobbing.

“I know,” The organized friend held up her clipboard appeasingly. “But it’s for charity, and the money would be record-breaking for the festival. But if you guys vote no, I’ll respect it and I’ll tell them no.”

Frank and Nancy shared a look.

“All those in favor of staying open the extra hour,” Joe shouted, cupping his hand around his mouth.

Every hand shot up, though some more reluctant than others.

George smiled, exhaling in pure relief. “I owe all of you, seriously. I’ll figure something out. Let’s get the next round started, peeps! Back to your places.”

“If I didn’t love George so much,” Nancy said as she and Frank walked back. “I’d kill her.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” He replied. “Because I’d kill her first.”

Nancy laughed, then groaned at the stretch of the makeup on her face. “God, another two hours of this.”

“We can do anything,” Frank reassured them both. “Remember when we fought that guy on a train?”

“Frank, you can’t compare those two things,” She said as they walked into her room. “This is infinitely worse.”

He chuckled. “Good luck.”

“Break a leg,” She mocked and he left to his room. With a sigh, she slipped the torture devices on and went into terrifying guests.

Thankfully, the second hour was even quicker. She tried to entertain herself into getting more into the scares, and that made it go by faster. The teens and adults were a fun mix of skeptical and easier to surprise. They underestimated how terrifying they’d made the gym.

“Quick five minute break!” George’s voice called through on the speakers.

This time, she snuck into Frank’s room.

Frank must not have heard her, and she saw him perfectly still against the fake posts.

“Does that hurt your arms?” She asked.

No response.

“Frank, you can’t scare me, I literally rehearsed this with you last week,” She stepped up to her scarecrow-clad friend. She tapped him on the shoulder. But he didn’t move. “What are you-”

Someone grabbed her shoulders.

She screamed and tried to slash an elbow behind her but it was grabbed to stop impact. She thrashed in the grip.

“Nance!” A familiar voice shouted, and she stopped struggling. She turned around to see Frank laughing at her, brown eyes glinting in the light of the fake night sky and his own mirth.

“You ass!” She slapped his shoulder, a few of her own giggles escaping. “What is that?” She pointed to the body still attached to the pole.

“My acting coach,” He said, and took off a doll of a scarecrow. It wasn’t as tall as Frank, but it was realistic enough that she didn’t feel ashamed of her reaction. “Joe found him in the prop closet. I think it’s from Oklahoma!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nancy said.

“I am impressed you were so quick to throw an elbow at me,” He said. “You’re badass.”

“We knew that,” She said, and he just smiled. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” He said. “My arms are gonna be spaghetti tomorrow.”

“My feet will be ribbons,” She said. “We’ll be quite a pair.”

“One more hour,” Frank said like it was a prayer, eyes closed. “We can do it.”

Nancy nodded then yawned. “You’d think I’d be exhilarated but I’m just exhausted.”

“Same,” Frank said.

“Back to your places!” George shouted, not bothering with the intercom.

“The college students,” Nancy said with faux impact. “Should be interesting.”

“They should be drunk,” He corrected. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

She went back to her room, cursing every step on her poor feet. Maybe George would pay her back with a certificate to a foot massage.

Time melted into a weird slow mix with fast, with how little she was absorbing all the events. She checked out, since most of the college students were drunk and scared easily with latent reactions. The poor security guards had to deal with a lot of lingering co-eds.

As Joe shoved the last one from her room, she caught him rolling his eyes grandly. She sent him a sympathetic smile in return.

Nancy had no idea how long they had left until the night was over. At least a half hour seemed to have past, but she had no way of making sure. If she was judging by her forming blisters, it was three in the morning. As she let herself lull into the repetition.

She heard the telltale shriek of the sewer room before her, caused by a sound effect of fake-rats and a “mole person” (really just a freshman in pale pink makeup and a spooky headlight) giggling. She braced herself for the general scare that was about to occur.

But then, for her own amusement, she got closer to the door so it would cover her when it opened. Might as well shake things up, it was nearing the end of the night. And people had been very receptive so far.

When the door opened, she waited until the person fully walked through. She jumped out from behind it.

“Boo!” She went classic.

The man screamed and punched her in the face. She hit the floor, smacking her shoulder into it with a violent thud.

“Oh god!” The same guy screamed again. Listening over the sounds of the cartoon birds chirping around her head, she could only hear him. Was he alone? “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Nancy’s head throbbed, and her nose pulsed. She gently touched her upper lip and pulled her hand away to find blood that wasn’t fake.

The other door opened.

“Nancy?” Frank whispered, and saw the scene before him. “What the hell?” He stalked in, causing the guy to stagger backwards.

But her friend didn’t pay him any attention as he immediately knelt to her side. “You okay?” He lifted her head up. “Pumpkin!” He shouted, and the lights flicked on. She winced, hopefully because of the sudden brightness and not a concussion.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, his fingers going to her hairline to move stray hair out of the way. His fingers were so gentle.

“I’m fine,” She said, but it was much breathier than it needed to be.

Joe, George and Chet burst into the room. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy repeated immediately.

“I punched her,” The guy said right after. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think there was anyone in here- and she scared me-”

“Kind of the point of a haunted house,” Joe snapped. Both he and Frank helped her to stand. “You alright, Nan?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy repeated.

“Oh god, blood,” Chet said. “I’m going back to the sound board.” He left.

“I’m taking her to an EMT,” Frank said, his hand still on her elbow.

“Nope, Joe, you take her,” George said. “Frank, we need you to keep it up in here, we only have four more groups left.”

“I’m so sorry,” The guy said.

“It was a clean break,” Nancy said, gently prodding her nose.

“Leave it be,” George ordered. “Let the EMTs handle it. Joe, can you take her to the first aid tent?”

Joe nodded.

“You, scaredy-cat,” George pointed at the boy. “You’re coming with me.”

George left, taking him with her, his head hanging low. She even found herself sympathetic. She couldn’t fault protection instincts.

“Take good care of her,” Frank said to Joe before turning to her. “Take care, Nance.”

She nodded and let Joe guide her out of the haunted house.

In the tent, the EMT first fixed her nose and cleaned her face. Then she checked her for a concussion, shining lights in her eyes and asking basic questions.

“Sure you’re not feeling dizzy?” The EMT asked.

“I’m fine,” She said. “Seriously, it was more just the surprise of it.”

“I’d feel better if you got an MRI,” Joe said, leaning back on a nearby stool, arms crossed.

“I don’t think they fit in the tent, Joe,” Nancy said obviously.

“I meant take you to the hospital,” Joe mocked back.

“I checked her vitals, reflexes, balance, the works,” The EMT said. “You’re coming up copacetic on all of them. I don’t think you need to go to the hospital. But, if you’re worried-”

“I’m not,” Nancy said, eyeing Joe.

The EMT, her name tag said CAROL, smiled, “Then I say all you have to do is take it easy, Ms. Drew. You just got a bit of a bruise, I think you’re okay. If you feel any sort of dizziness or nausea tomorrow, go to the hospital immediately, but I give you my all-clear.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said. “You heard her, J, you can go back to the House of Horror.”

“It’s already basically over,” Joe said, looking at the nearby clock.

“Nancy!” Someone called out, and she saw all her friends running up to the tent.

George pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy relayed the news to all of them. “Just a bruise and a broken nose.”

“I saw them set it back,” Joe said. “Gross.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bess said. “C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

As Bess pulled her away to the bathroom, Frank extended a hand to squeeze her shoulder once. “Glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” She said back, trying to ignore the warmness that spread from her shoulder to her chest and face.

After getting cleaned up and back in her normal clothes, the only thing about Nancy Drew that had changed since she entered school grounds seven hours before (wow, was it really seven hours?) was the fact she had a bandage on her nose.

“Hey, Marcia.” She turned to the sound of Frank’s voice. He too was cleaned up and back in a sweater and jeans. He looked like Frank, and that made her smile. No more weird cross-hatching on his face, no more weird dark nose like a clown, and no more dumb hat.

“Cute,” Nancy mocked his reference.

“You heard the plan, Frank?” Bess said, and Nancy was ashamed to admit to even herself that she’d forgotten her friend was right beside her.

“Yep, my house in twenty.”

“George is picking up pizzas,” Bess did a happy, little shoulder shimmy. “We’ve earned it. C’mon, I’m catching a ride with Joe now-”

“I can give you a ride,” Frank offered to Nancy, almost blurting it.

“Is that-” Nancy turned to her friend.

“Great!” Bess said immediately. “It was gonna be crowded with me and Joe anyway. We’ll meet you guys there.”

“Sounds good,” Nancy said as Bess took off. She hefted her bag of costume stuff. With no preamble, Frank took it and they walked out of the school. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. How’re your feet?”

“Thrilled to be back in sneakers,” She said as they walked over to the parking lot. “I hope no one recognizes us.”

“I don’t know how they could,” He said. “Bess did an amazing job.”

She nodded in agreement as they approached Frank’s van. “It’s nice to be me again.”

“Agreed,” He said as he put their bags in the backseat, then turned to her. “It’s nice to see you again too, without all the makeup. It’s good to see your face.”

“You too.”

“It was very terrifying,” He said as they got in the car. “Not knowing what was fake or real blood.”

“I’m sorry,” She said. The van roared to life.

“Not your fault at all,” Frank said. “C’mon, the concussed get to pick the music.”

“I would say I wasn’t diagnosed with a concussion,” She said as she plugged her phone into the AUX cord. “But I’m not giving up the opportunity to play DJ.” Frank took music very seriously, and only he got to pick if he was driving. Or Joe, if Joe beat him at a game of HORSE.

She put on the greatest hits compilation of The Mamas and the Papas on shuffle, and the first song was their cover of “Twist and Shout.”

The song soothed their frayed nerves along the drive. But then it played “Do You Wanna Dance” next.

Frank pulled over and killed the engine, just as the refrain, “(Love can never be exactly like we want it to be)/I could be satisfied knowing you love me” played.

“Frank, is everything okay?” She turned to him.

“Can I say something?”

She nodded in the darkness of one in the morning.

“When I saw that you were hurt, it was like all time stopped, until I could know you were okay,” He began. She opened her mouth as her heart stuttered in her chest, but he shook his head. “Wait, let me finish.” She nodded once more, mouth dry. “I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to you, Nance. And I want to be around you all the time, to make sure you’re okay, that you’re happy. Because you make me so happy. I know things have been a bit off with us lately, but I was wondering if you’d- If it’d be alright if- if you wanted to-”

“Yes.”

In the faint lights from the houses around them, he smirked a little. “You don’t know what I’m wondering.”

“Then spit it out,” She said it with a smile.

“Nancy,” Frank began once more. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Her smile brightened. “Yes,” She said it simply, because with Frank it could always be simple. She leaned over the gearstick and kissed him, then pulled away immediately with a hiss when she bumped her nose to his cheek.

“Hold on,” He whispered, then tilted his head more comfortably. She didn’t bump her nose this time and they kissed. One hand went to the nape of his neck, and the other laid still on his heartbeat, beating just as fast as hers.

His hand cupped her face gently, the other getting tangled in her hair she didn’t bother to put back up in a ponytail.

“Our friends are probably wondering where we are,” Nancy pulled away an inch to say.

“They can wonder a little while longer.”

Note: so that’s my first Francy fic! I’d love to know what you guys think, or if you have any requests. I’m loving Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys right now, so I’m happy to create more content. Thanks for reading!

#nancy drew fanfiction #hardy boys fanfiction #frank hardy #nancy drew #francy #joe hardy #francy fanfiction

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carrotlunch07-blog · 5 years ago

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Red Beer Is the Midwest’s Cult-Favorite Morning Beverage

It’s 10:30 a.m. outside of Memorial Stadium in Lincoln, Nebraska — home of the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers — but plenty of people here have already had a few alcoholic beverages, as indicated by the difficulty some have controlling the volume of their voices. Technically the area around the stadium is dry, but every group in sight in this parking lot has a cooler full of light beer, and many are also toting a bottle of tomato juice or bloody mary mix — though neither are intended for bloody marys. They’re for red beer, the michelada’s bland but mysterious Midwestern cousin: light domestic beer mixed with a healthy blob of tomato juice.

“Beer isn’t the best-tasting thing at eight in the morning,” said Scott Vonderharr, who drove down from Omaha for a tailgate. “If you’re gonna have a drink, I like to put a little tomato juice in it.”

Red beer is well-known in Nebraska, but its origins are unclear; a local historical society’s menu collection lacks any mention of it. Hypotheses abound, though: Vonderharr’s view on palatability in the morning is one theory why red beer exists; another is that it’s good for hangovers. Some drink it because they want to add flavor to the notoriously flavorless light beers they have on hand. A more cynical take theorizes that tomato juice companies used red beer as a marketing tool.

On this particular sunny morning outside Memorial Stadium, the binge-drinking is fueled by optimism: After years of stagnation, the world is the Huskers’ oyster. Many people sport red shirts with slogans hailing Scott Frost, the new coach who led the team to national glory as a quarterback in the ’90s. Other shirts say “Make Nebraska Great Again.”

Red beer’s thematic coloring leads many Nebraskans to think it’s a product of the tailgates, but the drink is more widespread than that: In different areas of the Midwest and West, a red beer can also be known as a red eye, red rooster, red draw, bloody beer, or Montana mary. At a dive bar or a steakhouse you can get one without fuss; a bartender at a more upscale place, if they agree to mix one for you, might serve it with a side of condescension.

Like many other beloved regional dishes, the progenitor of red beer is unclear, but the simplest version of red beer’s murky origin story is that it was imported from Mexican drinking culture. Micheladas, or beer flavored with a combination of tomato juice, lime, salt, and various spices, sauces, and seasonings, are one of the most popular alcoholic drinks in Mexico, and well-known to taco lovers and brunch-goers in America’s cities.

According to legend, the michelada was invented as a hangover cure by a bartender at Potosino Sports Club in San Luis Potosí in the 1960s, and its ingredients vary by region. It can be as simple as salt and lemon, or it can include bouillon powder, chamoy, tomato juice, or Clamato. (Major brewers have been attuned to the drink’s appeal for some time: Anheuser-Busch sells a beer pre-mixed with Clamato, salt, and lime.)

Pouring and drinking a pitcher of red beer at Neighber’s bar in Omaha

Red beer could also be, like many other tomato-based drinks, simply a case of convergent mixology. By the early 20th century, tomato-based drinks were on the rise: Louis Perrin created what’s considered to be the first tomato juice cocktail in 1917, and Fernand Petiot is largely credited with creating the bloody mary in Paris in 1921. The ascendancy of such drinks was assisted by the invention of canned tomato juice in the 1920s. The Bloody Caesar — a stripped-down version of the bloody mary with clam juice — took Canada by storm in the 1970s. Red beer seems to have emerged somewhere in the midst of all these other beverage inventions: EV Durling, a nationally syndicated newspaper columnist from New York, was puzzled by a man ordering beer and tomato juice in 1946. “When I saw him drink it, I shuddered,” he wrote.

Midwesterners usually add tomato juice to Michelob, Keystone, Bud Light, or Busch Light (often referred to by bros as “Busch Latté”), and they don’t adhere to a standard for the ratio of beer to “red,” leaving it up to drinkers’ individual tastes. “You know why I drank it in college?” asked tailgater Dale Lefferts. “Because it gives you the runs! It cleans you out.”

Lefferts said he only puts a splash of beer in a glass that’s “three-quarters red,” to be consumed with lunch. His digestive theory goes along with the convention among Nebraskans that it’s a drink best suited for the morning.

From the street, the Neighber’s bar in Omaha looks like a suburban version of the false-front architecture of Western films. At 6:30 a.m., it’s quiet inside — just three men drinking alone. One animatedly plays video games on a touchscreen system. Another sits quietly with a Busch Light and a pack of menthol cigarettes, while the other sips on a clear mixed drink.

“[This early], it’s usually a couple of regulars, older guys,” says Josh Bruckner, the son of Neighber’s owner, on the bar’s typical morning clientele. He’s been working mornings here for seven years. “The shift lets out at the hospital over here about 7 to 7:30, then we usually see a big rush of nurses,” he says, referring to the University of Nebraska Medical Center. Sure enough, by 7:30 a.m., there’s a group of nurses in scrubs drinking bottles of Busch Light.

Leah Warren, one of the nurses, takes sips directly from a mini-pitcher of red beer. It’ll set her back $4.50: $4.25 for “whatever light beer Josh pours,” and a quarter for the “red.”

“It’s kind of like breakfast in a cup,” she says. On the way out of Neighber’s, patrons can grab a paper cup of joe from a drip coffee machine before facing the morning traffic on Saddle Creek Road.

The morning crowd at Neighber’s in Omaha

Despite its popularity, a lot of beer drinkers have never heard of red beer, or simply don’t care for it. Darrell Smith, the executive director of the American Breweriana Association, a group of beer aficionados, didn’t know what red beer was; Bill Baburek, the owner of Crescent Moon, one of the oldest craft beer bars in Omaha, isn’t a fan.

“We went to Chicago and when we ordered a red beer, they looked at us and were like, ‘What? What is that?’” said Tina Meeske, a hairdresser from Lincoln, over a red beer at the Railyard, an outdoor drinking hall near Lincoln.

Chris Hernstrom, master brewer at Bolo Beer Co. in Valentine, Nebraska, says red beer’s popularity in the Great Plains might have to do with the historical unavailability of more flavorful beers in small towns. For the older generation, especially in rural Nebraska where it would be rare to see anything but light domestics on the menu, red beer is a way to get a drink with more flavor and depth.

”It’s still relatively hard to find tap beer in a lot of small towns,” Hernstrom said. “Nobody uses a microbrew with a red beer. But almost everywhere has Busch Light or Bud Light.”

Part of the drink’s appeal is also the adjustability of the tomato-to-beer ratio: Some red beer drinkers are just beginning to consume alcohol, while others use it — much like a bloody mary — as the hair of the dog. Tailgater Lefferts claims his red-heavy beer is better for hangovers, while bartender Bruckner says patrons ordering red beer often cite a hungover need for vitamins.

Outside Memorial Stadium, Christine Kupfer said her grandmother likes red beer at any time of the day. “My grandma is 85, and every time we go out to dinner, she orders a red beer,” she said. “Old people like red beer, young people like red beer. Boys like red beer, girls like red beer. Everyone likes red beer. Unless you don’t like tomato juice.”

Jahd Khalil is a radio and print journalist based in Cairo, Egypt. Photographer Alex Matzke is currently based in Omaha focused on Community Building and Mentorship. Editor: Erin DeJesus

Eater.com

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Source: https://www.eater.com/2018/12/19/18146459/red-beer-nebraska-tomato-juice-morning-drink-tailgate-midwest

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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faucetdouble51-blog · 5 years ago

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Red Beer Is the Midwest’s Cult-Favorite Morning Beverage

Pouring and drinking a pitcher of red beer at Neighber’s bar in Omaha

Leah Warren, one of the nurses, takes sips directly from a mini-pitcher of red beer. It’ll set her back $4.50: $4.25 for “whatever light beer Josh pours,” and a quarter for the “red.”

The morning crowd at Neighber’s in Omaha

”It’s still relatively hard to find tap beer in a lot of small towns,” Hernstrom said. “Nobody uses a microbrew with a red beer. But almost everywhere has Busch Light or Bud Light.”

Jahd Khalil is a radio and print journalist based in Cairo, Egypt. Photographer Alex Matzke is currently based in Omaha focused on Community Building and Mentorship. Editor: Erin DeJesus

Eater.com

The freshest news from the food world every day

By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy and European users agree to the data transfer policy.

Source: https://www.eater.com/2018/12/19/18146459/red-beer-nebraska-tomato-juice-morning-drink-tailgate-midwest

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radarbrow2-blog · 6 years ago

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Where to Eat Hoagies in Philadelphia: The Ultimate Guide

Guides

Our city runs on hoagies. Here’s where to get the best.

Devoted foodies and restaurant newbies love Foobooz. Sign-up now for our twice weekly newsletter.

Primo Hoagies | Facebook

Sure, the cheesesteak is the sandwich most closely associated with Philly. And everyone knows that the roast pork has always been our unacknowledged, locals-only secret weapon in the sandwich culture wars.

But the hoagie? The hoagie is how Philly eats lunch. The hoagie is our everyday sandwich. It’s how we celebrate and how we get by. It’s what we eat when we can’t think of what we really want. Eating hoagies in Philly is like breathing. We do it without even thinking.

And what’s remarkable is that while hoagies only rank third among our city’s sandwich obsessions, our hoagies are still awesome. They are the Reuleaux triangle at the center of a Venn diagram of what Philly’s does well — Bread, Italian Deli Meats, and Stuff You Eat With Your Hands. You wanna bet me? Put Philly’s best hoagie up against the best sandwich iteration done in any other city (grinders in New England, New Orleans’s po’boys, the Gerber in St. Louis) and I will take your money.

The Hoagies You Must Try First

Paesano’s | Facebook

Paesano’s, Fishtown Paesano’s makes dream hoagies, the kind you imagine in your most fevered sandwich fantasies. Roasted suckling pig, brisket with horseradish mayo and a fried egg, another with fig jam, provolone, arugula and sharp provolone. But the hoagiest of them all is the Daddy Wad, a basic Italian jumped up with an oregano vinaigrette and sweet and hot peppers. 148 West Girard Avenue

Carmen’s Famous Italian Hoagies and Cheesesteaks, Market East A meatball sandwich doesn’t really count as a hoagie, but Carmen’s in Reading Terminal Market does a mean meatball sandwich. They’re on this list because they also sling a killer Italian, loaded with meat and served right across the counter.

Primo Hoagies, Multiple locations Primo has about a billion locations at this point. Second only to Wawa in convenience and availability, no serious hoagie list would be complete without them. And not for nothing: despite their explosive growth and fast food-y counter service model, they still put out some damn fine hoagies. Plus, you’ve just gotta trust any joint that has five versions of an Italian available — one for every kind of mood, from spicy to mellow.

Koch’s Deli, West Philly People stand in line for an hour at this place just for a sandwich, and the wait is totally worth it. Shredded lettuce, loads of meat, good, soft bread that soaks up flavors like a sponge. Go for the Jewish Hoagie if you’re feeling adventurous (corned beef, pastrami, kosher salami, and spicy roast beef), but even the simplest ham hoagie here is a work of art. 4309 Locust Street

Di Bruno Bros., Multiple locations Among foodies, Di Bruno Bros. is kinda like that one really high-rent drug dealer you know. Not the guy you go to when you need a dime bag, but the one that you save for special occasions. Their stores are full of some of the best, most delicious ingredients on earth. And guess what they use to make their hoagies with?

The Best Hoagies in Center City, Old City and Washington Square West

Campo’s Deli | Facebook

Campo’s Deli They’re famous for their cheesesteaks, sure. But the special Italian hoagie here is a wonder stacked with salami, three kinds of ham (including prosciutto), pepperoni, and provolone. 214 Market Street

Giuseppe & Sons The brand-new spot from Michael Schulson’s team and the Termini family is an ode to old school, Italian-American red gravy dining — in the basement, anyway. Upstairs at street-level, it’s an enormous luncheonette (and bar) that knocks out sandwiches from a big list that includes an admirable prosciutto/sopresatta/mortadella Italian hoagie on bread from Formica Bros. Bakery in Atlantic City. 1523 Sansom Street

Matt & Marie’s There are at least three hoagies on this menu deserving of mention, but I’m just gonna talk about one: the Italian Stallion. It has everything I love in a sandwich, including salami, more salami, coppa (which is kind of like salami), plus a pepperoncini aioli that would improve almost any sandwich. 100 North 18th Street

Foodery The Foodery has four locations now, but I like the Center City one because it has the two thing I need most when I’m in the city: beer and sandwiches. A sixer of something local and an Italian hoagie with prosciutto and sharp provolone on a French baguette? That sounds like a perfect lunch to bring back to the desk. Or a nice gift to bring along to a party, because who doesn’t love it when someone gives them a sandwich? 1710 Sansom Street

Middle Child The So Long Sal deserves a Nobel Prize for Sandwiches. And if there isn’t a Nobel Prize for Sandwiches, then someone needs to talk to one of those Nobel people immediately and get that shit fixed. 248 South 11th Street

Woodrow’s Sandwich Shop Most of what Woodrow’s does are sandwiches, not hoagies. But the Italian is absolutely a hoagie — and though it might be a bit fancy for your tastes (with its fennel salami, truffled mortadella, herb mayo, oil, and vinegar), Woodrow’s knows its customers, and the kitchen is aiming for something a little more highbrow than your average neighborhood shop. 630 South Street

The Best Hoagies in Fishtown, Kensington and Port Richmond

Martha | Facebook

Martha They serve three hoagies. They all come on Philly Bread rolls. One of them is vegetarian. All of them belong in some kind of hoagie hall of fame. 2113 East York Street

Marinucci’s Deli The half here is a foot long. The half. Order a full-size and you’ll basically be getting two excellent hoagies stuffed with good meat, shredded lettuce, fresh veggies, and whatever else you ask for, all on a thick, spongy white roll. The location in the Northeast is the original, but for the past couple years, the good people of Port Richmond have been going bonkers over this place, so that’s why I’m putting it here. 3122 Richmond Street

Castellino’s It’s basically a little Italian market in Fishtown that does bread, sliced meats, pastries, jam, dry goods, flour, beard oil — all the usual Fishtown necessities. But the place also bangs out some nice sandwiches, among them a solid Italian-style hoagie, a beloved caprese, and the NEPA (Northeast PA), which is basically just made of magic. 1255 East Palmer Street

The Best Hoagies in South Philly and the Italian Market

Mike & Matt’s Italian Market | Facebook

Mike & Matt’s Italian Market Classic neighborhood Italian market with over-the-counter hoagies. The neighbors love this place, so if you happen to be in the area (and in need of a hoagie), you should definitely check it out. 1206 Mifflin Street

Pastificio There are two things I love about this place. One is the Parma, which is basically an all-prosciutto hoagie. And the other is the fact that this is one of the very few spots I can think of that has two different all-cheese hoagies. Not vegetarian on purpose, just proper hoagies made with nothing but cheese (plus lettuce, tomatoes, onion and sandwich oil, natch). 1528 Packer Avenue

Cosmi’s Yeah, you know Cosmi’s for their cheesesteaks. But they also do a laudable hoagie here — nicely balanced, full of Italian meats, and served on a seeded roll (if you ask for it). 1501 South 8th Street

Dew’s Deli This old-school spot serves a deep list of hoagies and triple-decker club sandwiches, but their signature, the Old World Italian, is the move here. It’s loaded with Italian deli meats — prosciutto, Di Lusso salami, capicola, and coteghino, a Freda specialty made with pork and beef — plus roasted red peppers, served (of course) on an Aversa roll. 1710 South 10th Street

Red’s Hoagies & Groceries A traditional corner hoagie shop can be one of three things: fast, cheap, or good. The ones that last can consistently be two of those things at once. The legends? They do all three. And that’s what Red’s is: a beloved, often overlooked shop that’s been serving hoagies to its neighbors in South Philly since the 1940s. 1900 South 9th Street

Antonio’s Deli Antonio’s opened in the former Chickie’s Deli space. Chickie’s would’ve absolutely had a spot on this list, but it’s gone now. Thankfully, Antonio’s is an admirable replacement, with a dozen-odd different hoagies on Sarcone’s rolls. They’ve got all the basics, and plus an anchovy hoagie (if that’s your thing), Italian tuna with prosciutto (which sounds delicious), and fried tomato with turkey and bacon which, even though it isn’t technically a hoagie, still should be mentioned. Because seriously, why didn’t I have that for lunch today? 1014 Federal Street

Ricci’s The meats are shaved thin to order, the bread is seeded (as it ought to be), the dressing is light, and the provolone has a bite. Building a quality hoagie takes years of experience, and Ricci’s — around since the 1920s — has had plenty of practice. 1165 South 11th Street

Gooey Looie’s There is nothing fancy at all about this place. The name explains the entire experience. We’re talking giant sandwiches, stuffed with meat and toppings and dripping with oil. It takes two hands to eat one of these, which is exactly as it should be. This is South Philly. Leave the finger sandwiches for Rittenhouse Square. 231 McClellan Street

Vincenzo’s This place has been a neighborhood hangout for decades. A straight-up luncheonette with Italian deli aspirations, it does breakfast plates, egg sandwiches on long rolls with anything from scrapple to asparagus and cherry peppers, makes all its hoagies with Carangi Bakery bread, and cuts everything fresh. Bonus: you can get a prosciutto and sharp provolone hoagie here for $7.50, which might be one of the best deals in town. 1626 South 9th Street

The Best Hoagies in West Philly, Northeast Philly, Manayunk and Beyond

Fu-Wah Mini Market | Facebook

Saad’s Halal Yeah. An all-Halal Middle Eastern restaurant that serves some of the best tuna or chicken salad hoagies you’ll find anywhere. This is why I fucking love Philly. 4500 Walnut Street

Fu-Wah Mini Market This Cedar Park sandwich spot and mini-grocer from the family behind Vietnam Restaurand and Vietnam Cafe is a beloved neighborhood institution. They’re famous for the tofu hoagie, a vegan take on banh mi — but their classic hoagies are the best in the neighborhood, with extra care taken to source great bread, fresh romaine (instead of iceberg), and the best hot peppers I’ve had on a hoagie outside of South Philly. 810 South 47th Street

Dattilo’s As if the Dattilo’s Main Event — a loaded Italian with roasted peppers and marinated artichoke hearts — and the special sandwich dressing that took 15 years to get right weren’t enough, Dattilo’s also has a roast pork hoagie. Yeah, you read that right. Roast. Pork. Hoagie. It’s amazing. 8000 Horrocks Street

Lennie’s Hoagies Lennie’s has like a million different kinds of hoagies, scattered across a variety of menus, all named after movies or songs or neighborhoods or countries or former employees or songs or inside jokes. The place is just nine different kinds of bonkers, but a lot of the hoagies are really excellent. Just take your time, find the one that speaks to you, and go for it. 6141 Ridge Avenue

Dalessandro’s Everyone knows this place has the best cheesesteaks around, right? Well, they also do some of the best hoagies in town, prepared with the same amount of care and served with the same kind of weighty, messy goodness. Just know what you’re doing before you walk in: step up to the counter, order, step aside to wait, and pick up your sandwiches at the other end. If everyone could manage that, the line would move a lot faster and I would get my hoagies that much quicker. Thanks. 600 Wendover Street

Barry’s Steaks There are so many things I love about this place: shredded lettuce, thick stacks of meat on the hoagies, lots of sandwich oil, Amoroso’s rolls, a cooler full of really good homemade sodas. Honestly, it’s the kind of place that should be used as the model for neighborhood hoagie shops everywhere. If I lived next door, I would weigh 400 pounds and be so happy about it. So next time the line is too long at Dalessandro’s, go here. There’s a pretty good chance you’ll never go anywhere else again. 471 Leverington Avenue

Lorenzo’s Steaks and Hoagies Another neighborhood joint that everyone knows for their cheesesteaks. But honestly, the hoagies are far superior — loaded, heavy, and handled with care. They come in three sizes (the large weighs something like four pounds), and the waits can get long during rushes. Just be patient and understand that good work takes time. 216 East Market Street, West Chester

Source: https://www.phillymag.com/foobooz/2018/11/29/best-hoagies-sandwiches-philadelphia/

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