Nebraska Brewing Company’s La Vista Production Facility

With all apologies to my buddy Paul Kavulak, I don’t make it to Omaha very often. This, despite the fact that Omaha and my more frequently visited Des Moines are equidistant from my front door.

My buddy Paul Kavulak will, in fact, get over this minor affront because he’s a nice guy, because he’s got bigger things to worry about than my visitation schedule and because I took this really cool photo of him tapping a cask (at right).

A hard working fellow that would probably not have amounted to much were it not for his lovely wife Kim (her job title is The Chick that Makes S#*t Happen), my buddy Paul Kavulak has his hands full with the growing and award-winning Nebraska Brewing Company. Founded in 2007 with the Papillion, Nebraska brewpub, my buddy Paul Kavulak’s notable Nebraska libation station (helmed by the talented Tyson Arp [below], who would be nothing without his cool dad, who is liable to show up at a party in his lederhosen) was hemmed in by the limitations of a 15-barrel brewing system when both brewpub patrons and out-of-state drinkers were awful darned thirsty for more and more of my buddy Paul Kavulak’s tasty beers.

In a spendy attempt to satiate the thirst of basically the whole wide world, my buddy Paul Kavulak coughed up for a 30-barrel production facility, barrel room, canning line, and a 24-tap tasting room. If that’s not enough, eight months in (the canning line launched on Feb. 14 of this year), my buddy Paul Kavulak just upgraded and bought four 120-barrel fermenters to help keep up with demand. Because thirst.

Finally, my beer drinking sidekick Kyle and I (joined by his beer drinking pastor-intern Peter, whom I convinced to wear ill-fitting plaid drinking pants) dragged our slow moving bodies out to my buddy Paul Kavulak’s new facility in La Vista. As usual, Tyson’s beers were delicious, Tyson’s wife Angela was nice as hell, Kim was sporting this really great smile and my buddy Paul Kavulak was happy to see us. It was like a family reunion with out all the macaroni salad.

Tyson gave us a tour and let us touch his DO meter, and since the day we accidentally showed up was on the occasion of NBC’s inaugural Dock-Toberfest (think Oktoberfest on a loading dock that spills into the whole brewery where you can eat brats, drink beer and chat with new and old friends), it was a pretty stellar and flavor-filled day.

As they say in small town newspapers, a good time was had by all, and, while the new facility was great and the beers tasty, I must, in fact, lodge two complaints against my buddy Paul Kavulak (whether or not they’re his fault): I didn’t get around to putting on a sumo suit and wrestling Kyle, and Tyson’s awesome parents weren’t anywhere to be found.

Maybe next time.

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