Olde Towne Portsmouth is a cozy, quaint, and beautifully historic area; it’s also one I rarely visit when in Hampton Roads. But something had recently been bothering me: the fact that I had never been to the Bier Garden.

The Thanksgiving holiday was rather busy for me, though. Relatives had come in from out of town, old friends needed visiting, and there was plenty of food to be eaten. Luckily, I had enough time to stop by the Tap House Grill in Norfolk, an eclectic little beer bar that I’ve taken a shine to. But one night, I had mentioned getting over to Portsmouth to check out this highly-rated establishment. Due to planning constraints, I ended up nixing the idea.

Then came Friday. I had considered going by myself, just for a pint, but didn’t have enough personal motivation to get off the couch and out of my leftover-induced coma. That is, until, my father told me to get my coat, he’d take me out there for a drink.

I don’t ever recall actually sitting down and having a beer with my dad. I’m fairly young, sure, but I don’t seem to even remember him with a drink in his hand, ever. I know he did drink when he was younger, but now he almost completely shies away from the stuff. He never was a craft beer or spirits connoisseur by any means, but he knows that I enjoy a good beer, so he indulged me.

For one thing, Bier Garden doesn’t carry much in the way of non-alcoholic beer. After asking for a Warsteiner N.A. and finding out that they were out of stock, he settled for an iced tea. I, on the other hand, went for the Rochefort 8, which was of course, excellent. But what made it even better was the fact that I could sit down with my dad, sip on a great Belgian, shoot the shit about beer and why I like it so much, and just get away from the swirling world of hungry relatives and frenzied shoppers.

It didn’t matter that he went with an iced tea. In a sense, we did share a beer, and some quality time, together. That’s one more reason I love this libation.