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| - As Americans, we love choices. It is not unusual, therefore, that an American bistro and drinking hole offers a choice of beer and wine. But this place taps into just about more than any other place out there --- around 200 beers in all. Yet, is it all really enough? The answer, of course, is yes and no.
I for one do not need 200 beers. I need one: Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. That they have Abita Purple Haze or Portland Oregon Honey or even the Americana trophy Pabst Blue Ribbon makes no difference to me, except, that is to say, that the Yardhouse cares that people drink beer not just wine. In any event, if you're looking for new styles or brands of beer on any given night, this is going to be a place for you to go (at least in eight mostly Western states).
I've breached the threshold of the Scottsdale Fashion Square version twice. Both times were pleasant enough. The staff seemed young, good-looking and attentive. The prices seemed reasonable. The decor and atmosphere in the cavernous space are corporate (surprise, surprise --- it's a chain). There are too many televisions for my liking. But I'm not a sports bar kind of guy. While lots of square footage means plenty of tables (i.e. no or limited waiting for a seat), hobbling through this massive place to the restrooms from the patio could be dangerous and embarrassing for some with, ah, control issues.
The Yardhouse puts a lot of emphasis on eating. I suppose they don't want people getting too wound up on all those suds. With the exception of a handful of French fries, I have gone for the beer rather than the food. That said, the food looks good, the kitchen is open, busy and appears to be about as squeaky clean as the Yardhouse's image.
Part of the fun comes with sitting on the patio. It's not that the atmosphere out there is all that great. Essentially you're sitting in a parking garage. But the people watching is spectacular. All the young Scottsdalians love valet parking, prancing around half naked and giving the impression that they actually have more than the minimum in their free checking accounts. Ah, if it were only L.A. Perhaps it wouldn't be so pathetic ... or funny.
Cheers.
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