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Gritty McDuff's Brewing Company

Not Rated.
Gritty McDuff's Brewing CompanyGritty McDuff's Brewing Company

Beer Stats:
Active Beers: 18
Beer Ratings: 1,700
Beer Avg: 3.47

Taps: / Bottles:
Cask: N / Beer-to-Go: N
BA SCORE
87
very good

97 Ratings
Ratings: 97
Reviews: 66
rAvg: 3.83
pDev: 12.01%
$$ - reasonable
[ Brewery, Bar, Eatery ]

396 Fore St
Portland, Maine, 04101-4026
United States
phone: (207) 772-BREW

visit their websiteWebsite view map and get directionsMap @grittys

Notes:
None, yet.

(Place added by: BeerAdvocate)
Place: Ratings & Reviews
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Ratings: 97 | Reviews: 66 | Display Reviews Only:
Reviews by woodychandler:
Photo of woodychandler
woodychandler

Pennsylvania

4.8/5  rDev +25.3%
vibe: 4.5 | quality: 5 | service: 4.5 | selection: 5 | $$

Ah, Gritty’s! Cue the WABAC machine. Destination: Portland, Maine, summer 1990. As we materialize on the deck of the USS Normandy (CG-60), moored in the Bath Iron Works (BIW) shipyard, Portland division, our hero and his shipmate, Hoos Warner, have decided to become Mug Club members for the duration of their stay while the ship is in Post-Sailaway Availability (PSA) from mid-April until early October.

During one of his early visits to Gritty’s, Woody is introduced to the resident cook, Jen, and her boyfriend, Trashman. The rest of the summer is then history, spent flitting between Gritty’s and Amigo’s (down Gritty’s back steps and across the cobblestone alley). Gene, the owner of Amigo’s was a nut case and Woody fell in love with one of his servers, (La) Deb Glanville, whose brother will kill Woody if he ever reads this. Over at Amigo’s, Woody was turned on to The Church of the Subgenius by Rev. Bob Core a.k.a. Banjo Bob and he became one of The Regulars, not to be confused with the much-despised Tourists. Woody often closed Amigo’s and then assisted with clean-up, just to avoid going back to the ship.

Days when liberty began early saw our hero on a beeline shot to Gritty’s, where he would have a mug of Pale Ale and sit for hours on end, thinking about nothing. A truly memorable occasion was when a particularly comely (and well-endowed) blonde was working the bar and one of the fellow hard-case afternoon drinkers decided that the soap opera on the television needed to be switched to something more preferable, like a test pattern. This led to a bit of serendipity as, unbeknownst to anyone at the bar, the remote was MIA. This situation meant that the server had to get a stool, stand on it, and reach waaaay up, creating a marvelous silhouette in the afternoon sun streaming through the Fore Street window. All those in attendance were riveted, mouths agape. Soon, the channel had to be changed every fifteen minutes, or so. Sexist? Yep. Chauvinistic? Aye. Piggish? Uh huh. Appealing? Without a doubt. Was she tipped handsomely throughout and at the end of her shift? You bet your sweet bippy. To this day, your humble narrator remains unsure of whether she really did not catch on, since she gave no indication that she had, or whether she played to an enthusiastic crowd of onlookers. It is a memory that, when I eventually have Alzheimer’s and the rest of my mind has fallen into the abyss, will remain with great clarity.

Back to the present. The bus from the train station dropped me off just a stone’s throw away, making it even easier for me to stop in. I entered through the basement and promptly lost my bearings, to go along with my marbles, which have been MIA for some time. Once I recovered, I passed the small downstairs bar and the brewhouse, both to my left, and ascended the steps to the bar. It seemed a bit more extensive than I remembered, with a semi-circular shape that extended into the next room, utilizing four brick archways for access and serving purposes. The place was rife with exposed brick, ducting, wood beams, an original fire door, and best of all, a copper-topped bar. Oh my! The Mug Club mugs abound on hooks above the back bar. There was a copper sign at the left of the back bar announcing house-brewed beers. Finally, there was great mural on the back wall, involving angels in the brewing process. Hell, yeah! Er, well, you get the idea. The washrooms were in the back left restaurant area. It was at that point that I realized how much I missed the place and began to choke up with nostalgia.

The beers that day included: Original Pub; Black Fly; Best Bitter; Sebago Light; Best Brown; and my pick – the Fly Bite, a blend of Black Fly stout and cider. Yum yum.

08-19-2006 15:53:36 | More by woodychandler
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Gritty McDuff's Brewing Company in Portland, ME
87 out of 100 based on 97 ratings.