It is officially summer, and DC didn’t waste any time proving it this week with face-melting heat. After three summers getting babied in Boston, I had forgotten about humidity and what being truly hot felt like. No longer.
This kind of weather makes me want to take naps in the shade, cannon ball into public pools, and down ice-cold cans of beer—preferably cans wrapped in koozies for a bit of insulation. This is summer.
Luckily, Boundary Stone—a wonderful place that’s becoming my neighborhood bar—has enough canned beer in their arsenal to satisfy the most important of my seasonal cravings. I’m not sure when the craft beer scene dug its teeth into canning brews, but I back the new fad wholeheartedly. (If I was the kind of person who camped, I’d enjoy it even more.)
So here’s to summer and being pleasantly surprised every time I take a sip of a genuinely good beer that comes in a can.