I mean after all, he is the father of the country (H.Doc.108-204)

A while back, we had some friends come to visit us, and we played tour guide -- and tourist -- in the DC area. We got a second chance to take in the sights of our fair city when my father came to visit a few weeks later. Fittingly, we dragged him to the home of the father of our country, George Washington. My dad was a little surprised that we wanted to go to Mount Vernon, considering that I had been there before. Surprisingly, I did not remember that visit, which apparently happened when I was a toddler.

Once we got on the grounds of the estate, we hunted for a fountain where my parents took a photo of my brother and me, during that visit so many years ago. We never did find it, but we did see the main house, on a quick, assembly-line tour (top). At a more leisurely pace, we enjoyed the beautiful weather as we strolled through other parts of the presidential land (bottom left), including Washington's tomb. We even sauntered down to the recreated farm area, where Fall Harvest Family Days were being held. On the farmland sits Washington's 16-sided barn (bottom right), which he designed to thresh grain by means of horse instead of industrial power.

 

Eventually, the grain would make its way to one of Washington's gristmills, like the one at his Dogue Run Farm (top left). (Fair warning: The following photos were taken on a previous visit to the gristmill, but considering it's a replica of an 18th-century mill, it didn't seem like much had changed.) The flow of Dogue Run is used to move a water wheel, which ingeniously powers a peg-and-wheel contraption that shakes and separates the finer flour from the stuff used as animal feed (top right). But of course, the water wheel turns all the gears within the operation, including the ones that rotate the grindstones of the gristmill (bottom).

 

Some water from the stream and some grain from the mill are diverted to the nearby distillery, which has been rebuilt on the exact ground where its remains were discovered (top). The first step of the whisky-making process is boiling water (not from the stream, but from a cleaner well), which is then ladled with the help of some cool small-barrel scoops (bottom left) into a mix of corn and rye grain. Malted barley is later added to the mash, which is then poured into the stills. Heating the mash causes alcoholic gases to rise into the copper hats; then, the gas moves through a pipe to a barrel, where water (from the stream) is used to cool the gas back into liquid form (bottom right). The resulting liquid is distilled again, and perhaps even again, to reach the desired alcohol level.

 

Unfortunately, no tastings are offered at the distillery, and we were unwilling to pay $150 for a bottle of apple brandy to try at home. Fortunately, the day before, we had already got our tasting on at some of the northern Virginia wineries near Middleburg. On a recommendation from my aunt, we started with Chrysalis Vineyards. For $10, you got to taste 12 wines, a variety of reds and whites (top left). This was a particularly good deal because you didn't have to pay any extra for the beautiful view (top right). While my dad partook of the full tasting menu, TJ and I settled in with a single glass -- Albariño Verde for him and Traminette for me -- under the nearby patio (bottom). In the end, my dad took home a whole case, including a few bottles of the Schitz & Giggels table-wine blend.

Next, we headed across the road to Cana Vineyards, which adds apple wine to the variety of its menu (top). Overall, the wine wasn't as good, but at least the scenery was as spectacular (bottom left). A well-placed table provided the perfect spot for a picnic. Before going beyond the Beltway, we picked up some sliced meat, pretzel rolls, and carrot salad from German Gourmet in Falls Church (bottom right).

We had so much fun out in the countryside that a few weeks later, TJ and I played tour guide to ourselves as we followed part of the Maryland Cider and Mead Trail. We started at Lingamore Winecellars, near Mt. Airy, which had two types of mead available for tasting (top left). In a field full of picnic tables but no people, we sipped glasses of Medieval Mead, which is served at the Maryland Renaissance Festival (top right). By this weekend, more of the leaves had fallen, but it was still nice to bask in the landscape, full of grapevines (bottom).

 

Stuck in the middle of those vines are some telephone-pole trellises for hops, which are used by Red Shedman Brewery, located across the parking lot from the winery tasting room. Our six four-ouncers -- Farmer's Daughter blonde, honey rye, Pump House IPA, pumpkin Oktoberfest, vanilla porter, and Hog's Hollow chocolate stout on nitro -- composed one of the most consistently strong flights I've ever tasted (top left). Having found a role model, TJ took some time to peruse the brewroom from some observation windows (top right). Proprietor and brewer Vic headed down to the vats (bottom) a couple times to get us samples of works-in-progress: an even crisper, fresher IPA and a smokier, nuttier chocolate stout aged in bourbon barrels.

We got a little distracted from the trail, being lured off-track by Milkhouse Brewery, just 10 minutes away from Lingamore (top left). The wood-paneled tasting room was pretty packed, with some dogs even, so we drank our Dollyhyde Farmhouse Ale and Goldie's Best Bitter in the brewery right next to the mash tun (top right). After the high-quality offerings at Red Shedman, these pints just didn't measure up. But the detour, once again, was worth the location; I almost lost TJ to the solace of Stillpoint Farm (bottom).

Our last stop, all the way on the other side of Frederick, was Distillery Lane Ciderworks (top). The farm grows more than three-dozen types of apples, including one strain the owner recently imported from Kazakhstan. The variety of apples leads to an incredibly diverse range of tart- to sweet-tasting ciders (bottom left). TJ browsed the shelves while I tasted four ciders: Celebration, Sidra Montana Sur, Jefferson, and Witch's Brew (bottom right). I was absolutely blown away by the distinctive flavors, which were as refined as those at any winery I've ever been to.

 

We bought a scope of alcoholic ciders and a half-gallon of the non-alcoholic kind from the farmer, who kindly took us behind the glass to show and explain the apple-pressing process. He also recommended a good place for dinner in nearby Middletown (left). The Main Cup, located in an old ice-cream factory, offered a snug communal atmosphere with savory comfort food (right) -- and, of course, it had DLC cider on tap.