A Lazy Afternoon at FBC

As much as I value and encourage the importance of people and surroundings in relation to food, my dining choices nearly always come down to the food itself.  But when an airplane touched down at the Flagstaff airport carrying my lifelong friend, Dusan, I was compelled to find a dining experience that transcended the biological necessity of eating and that represented the city I call home.  Dusan, my girlfriend, and I visited FBC—Flagstaff Brewing Company—and in one short hour I was able to provide an atmospheric representation of what Flagstaff is all about.

Pub or bar would be dictionary-approved terms to describe FBC, but it cultivates its own unique ambience that cannot quite be attributed to one plain definition. The wait staff is fashioned in street clothes, and their casually-initiated conversation eliminates the often awkward report between customer and server.  The laid-back, homey atmosphere is a synecdoche of the city that surrounds it, and this is only strengthened by the food and drink. As I bit into a homemade French fry and sipped handcrafted amber ale, I could taste my surroundings.  In Flagstaff we appreciate the simplistic beauty of nature, and the from-scratch theme at FBC encapsulates our desire to embrace the wholesome aspects of life. As we got ready to leave, I pointed out a sign behind the bar to my friend. Beer—so much more than a breakfast drink. Is anyone free for breakfast tomorrow?

Sensing Up a Storm: Flagstaff and Pork

Sometimes I take it for granted. Despite my Southern Ontario upbringing, which was void of snow-capped mountain views and lush green pine forests, I still sometimes manage to overlook the beauty that surrounds me in Flagstaff, Arizona. But not today.

Eating my slow cooker pulled pork in Flagstaff trumps its consumption in any other location. I made it in Yuma, Arizona, but the incomparable smell of sweet and savory barbecued meat clashed with the hot desert air. The quiet calmness, the cool, biting air, makes the pulled pork sandwich that much more enjoyable.

Sometimes I go for hikes on Mount Elden and gaze at Flagstaff from a distance; from a decent height, the civilization of the city is clearly the anomaly. Thick forests carry on seemingly forever outside city boundaries, and the smell of the natural world is extenuated as I immerse myself in the mountain.

Still, my appreciation for Flagstaff is never greater than when I lift the lid of my slow cooker and hear the slight hum of the barbecue sauce combining with the meat. The explosion of flavor, from the acidity of the vinegar to the dry marinated whiskey, all combine to form a bite of pork that cannot be surpassed. The natural environment of Flagstaff is the perfect complement to this bite, and only in Flagstaff can I fully appreciate the delicate, slow cooked delight.