Barreling Forward

Lee’s Retreat Champions Small-Batch Brews, Big Eats

By Warren Rojas / Photography by Kate Bohler

“Beer is proof that God loves us
and wants us to be happy”
– Benjamin Franklin

Turns out, “The First American” never actually shared the homage to brewing erroneously attributed to him above. In the original quote, Franklin actually sings the praises of grape growing and winemaking (nice try, though, beer lobby).

But who needs the endorsement of a Founding Father/the Almighty when the Blue & Gray crew so artfully proves that carefully crafted beer can—and, more often than not, does—magically lighten the daily load?

The truly microbrewery—B&G produces around 2,000 barrels of beer per year, whereas leading craft brewer the Boston Beer Company, helmed by Sam Koch and producer of the renowned Sam Adams line, pumped out approximately 1.8 million barrels in 2010—has carved out a loyal following for itself since debuting just under a decade ago (original operation launched March 2002). When providence, and hard-earned profits, finally smiled upon co-founders Jeff and Lori Fitzpatrick, the brew-loving duo took a leap of faith in 2009 and reinvested in a new home for their passion project—a move that also enabled them to add restaurateuring to their curriculum vitae, by virtue of their launching Lee’s Retreat.

“Fortunately for us, we already had a pretty big following from the brewery being open,” Lori says of the built-in constituency that has called the brewpub home since it officially came online June 30, 2010.

But Lori suggests the all-in-one beer haven had been a long time coming.

The most critical hire was executive chef Frederick “Fritz” Heller, a longtime friend who happened to be looking for his next professional challenge after giving up his own Fredericksburg restaurants, Frederick’s/the Loft (both shuttered April 2009).

“We knew each other from town,” Lori says of their up-till-then passing association.

But as she ramped up to get Lee’s Retreat up and running, Lori says Heller became invaluable, both for his culinary input (he developed the core menu) and his design savvy (Heller evidently does a little consulting on the side).

So, while the brewpub remains essentially hidden amid the bends and twists of an industrial park (gated, no less)—its exterior effortlessly blending in among all the other cinder block boxes lazily rolled in beige paint—the interior sports some serious panache. Just take a gander at the salvaged bar, an old time-y testament to slickly varnished woods and etched mirrors. Or allow your fingers to bounce along the irregularly spaced peaks and valleys that dot the vertically inclined landscape of glazed tile-wrapped walls.

Or you could just peer longingly through the giant picture windows that separate happy everyday diners from the row of stainless steel tanks from which Lee’s primary refreshment eventually flows.

The in-house brewery cranks out four flagship pours: Blue & Gray Classic Lager, Fred Red Ale, Falmouth American Pale Ale and Stonewall Stout, each sporting its own idiosyncrasies and charms.

Their classic lager bears the same straw yellow pallor of your average light beer, but displays enough hoppiness and a crisp finish to qualify it as a solid session beer.

Fred Red is smoother, delivering uncomplicated refreshment all the way down to the last drop.

Falmouth Pale Ale raises the stakes a bit, challenging the palate with increased hoppiness, pronounced citrus notes and flashes of spice. It’s not my thing, but there’s certainly a lot going on in this glass.

Stonewall Stout holds nothing back. Its deep brown complexion and coffee nose telegraph what awaits below the creamy froth: a slow-sipping brew designed for those who enjoy the taste, aroma and ritual of beer drinking.

Minor Dementia Imperial Stout takes things even further. Bourbon barrel aging imbues the naturally chocolaty beer (think: Nestle Quik) with a second tier of magnetic flavors, including traces of toffee, smoke and candied berries. Like mature bourbon, Minor Dementia actually mellows with every sip—but the telltale afterburn reminds you this is not power hour material.

A chocolate-raspberry stout, on the other hand, is sweetness and gentle kisses, featuring a fruity bouquet that leaps out from the mug at you and a bubbly middle that makes dispatching each glass much too easy and enjoyable.

Lori adds that the once seasonal Borman’s Belgian Ale—a saison-style brew that woos you with tropical fruit (banana nose) before pricking the tongue with spice (vanilla)—has since taken up pseudo-permanent residence at the bar. “The only place you can get it is by the pint at the pub,” she says of the dine-in-only status of the ever popular pour.

Most of their other specialty beers can be, when in season, enjoyed either within the brewpub or carried out via refillable growler. And while retail hours are theoretically limited (Wednesday, Friday and Saturday), Lori noted that brewpub staff will gladly refill empty growlers anytime the restaurant is open for business—a gambit Lori confirms, has led to folks racing in for fresh beer and often sticking around to enjoy a bite, or perhaps a different beer, while they wait.

Multi-tasking at its finest, if you ask me.

The brewpub boasts around two dozen tables. Most seats remain the almost-exclusive purview of neighboring office workers during the week, while weekends bring more of a mix of locals, generic tourists and curious hopheads. There was no lack of diversity during our visits, as we enjoyed many a meal seated beside pint-draining retirees, burger-dispatching collegians (Go Eagles!), adventurous nuclear families—the parade of stroller-pushing, baby seat-swinging folks we witnessed seems to suggest that at least a subset of Fredericksburg parents have no reservations about hauling tots along to a brewery—and gaggles of gregarious girlfriends.

As per the Fitzpatricks’ and Heller’s vision, the menu weaves Blue & Gray beers and seasonal ingredients into dishes the average pub guest should recognize, if not wholly appreciate.

“All of the dishes either have our beer in them or feature special local products,” Lori says of Heller’s commitment to both showcasing the signature beers and honoring seasonal ingredients. To that end, Lori stresses that “nothing is frozen or microwaved,” claiming responsibility for everything from the house mustard (cut with Fred Red) to the fish batter (beer based, ‘natch).

Over-sauced chicken wings are doubly disappointing, each bite of bird marred by cloying, stout-based glaze and rubbery meat.

A stuffed pretzel gets things back on track, revealing slices of zesty pork sausage enveloped by salt-studded dough. Dunk the bratwurst-based pig-in-a-blanket into the accompanying spicy mustard for a hot fix, or top with the hot pink slaw for a sweet-savory experience.

Worcestershire and juicy tomato slices help house-made Sloppy Joes thoroughly vanquish memories of ho-hum school cafeteria lunches. The seasoned beef drips with tangy tomato sauce but never quite seeps through the toasted buns (well done, chef). Any stray drips, however, are easily—and quite deliciously, I might add—retrieved by a quick swipe with one of the surrounding waffle fries (hot, crisp, salty).

Gourmet burgers aim to please, eschewing cartoonish bulk in favor of carefully considered substance. Take the gorgonzola-bacon burger, for instance. I suspect that the compact, but beefy core—in isolation—might seem flimsy to those who’ve grown accustomed to sky-high patty stacking. But once you bite into the mystical bacon-gorgonzola patty, a meta-meal of intoxicatingly rich gorgonzola crumbles pressed between rounds of gorgeously marbled bacon, the true genius of the burger is revealed. The fact that it’s all served on a burger-hugging English muffin, which conforms to the shape of the jus-spilling beef much better than your standard bun, is pure gravy.

Though tagged as a customer favorite, the deconstructed shepherd’s pie left us seriously wanting. Mind you, we enjoyed the addition of the pesto-swabbed lamp lollipops placed atop the finished dish. But what’s billed as pie is really more like lamb stew. All baking has been abandoned (gastronomic heresy), leaving behind an island of mashed potatoes surrounded by a lake of crumbled lamb burger littered with dull carrots, snap peas and corn niblets (methinks turnips or Brussels sprouts would have fit the bill much better).

Corned beef gets more traditional treatment, emerging heaped atop braised cabbage (central ribs still crunchy crisp, the leaves charged with broth) and slathered in spicy brown mustard. Roast asparagus, red skin potatoes and more slaw round out the hearty arrangement.

Meanwhile, their next release will be Virginia Hefeweizen—a summer bellwether that’s loosed upon the wheat-swilling masses each May and retired come September.

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Lee’s Retreat Brewpub
3300 Dill Smith Drive, Fredericksburg; 540-371-7799; www.blueandgraybrewingco.com
Hours: Open for lunch and dinner Tuesday through Saturday.
Prices: Average entree $13 to $20 ($$).

(May 2011)