In this neon-lit, endlessly scrolled, algorithm-fed modernity where even your dog’s toenail clippings can be monetized and delivered via drone, something as tactile, warm-blooded, and sensorially electric as a beer and cider pairing dinner feels not just refreshing, but radically human. It’s like breaking bread in defiance of the metaverse.
Last night at The Swiss Restaurant & Pub, Tacoma’s always-loyal cathedral of stone, beer, and good decisions made after your third pour, real humans drank real beverages made by other real humans — and the results were as deeply satisfying as they were low-key revelatory.
The stars? None other than Eric Willard, part-owner of Two Beers Brewing Co. and Seattle Cider Company, and a man who could likely narrate The Canterbury Tales and make it sound like a Barry White outtake. Willard, that rare unicorn of charisma and encyclopedic fermentation knowledge, shared his creations — beer and cider, side by side, with the kind of offhand brilliance that makes you want to throw out everything in your fridge and start over with Saison and Braeburns.
Backing him up? The equally well-voiced and dangerously charming Brett Thompson, Certified Cicerone and Two Beers/Seattle Cider’s regional sales sage, who provided tasting notes like a sommelier in Carhartts. Together, they were the Lennon and McCartney of the night — one leaning more cider, the other leaning beer, both harmonizing over hop oil and apple tannin.
But in every sandwich, there must be meat — and last night’s culinary centerpiece was Swiss chef Jacob Thacker, who emerged from the kitchen like a culinary myth, high-fiving servers, explaining his dishes with the flair of a rock star describing his guitar pedalboard. The man speaks in umami and finishes in flourish.
Let us now relive the magic. Slowly. Deliciously.
The Semi-Sweet Prelude
A generous pour of Seattle Cider Semi-Sweet, elegant and juicy, welcomed diners like a well-dressed stranger at a train station who already knows your favorite book. Bright apple, just enough sweetness, and suddenly your synapses are fully engaged. Time to begin.
Round One: Tostada Bliss & Wit Wisdom
Crispy tostadas, shrimp poached in Crooked Belgian Wit, adorned with roasted cherry tomato salsa — like beach food if the beach were in Belgium. Paired with the Crooked Belgian Wit Ale, brewed with coriander and orange peel, which added an effervescent counterpoint to the toast and the citrus. Lively. Sun-kissed. Carbonated foreplay.
Round Two: Gazpacho Gets Sophisticated
Almond grape gazpacho, chilled and divine, landed in a shallow bowl like a modernist poem, then paired with Citrus Cider — orange, lemon, and grapefruit playing backup vocals to the dish’s savory tang. Possibly the best pairing of the night. Possibly the best pairing since peanut butter and deep self-reflection. Willard dropped by to talk nuance. I tried to listen, but tablemate Justin Peterson was waxing poetic on the sociocultural relevance of trucker hats, and I am only human.
Interlude: SoDo Brown & Crowd Movement
Swiss owner Jack McQuade, ever the impresario, called a beer timeout and summoned trays of SoDo Brown Ale, Two Beers’ smooth, mild-mannered American brown. Suddenly, the room loosened. Conversations cross-pollinated. Barriers fell. One man recited hop varieties like Beat poetry. It was beautiful.
Third Course: Duck, Polenta, and Holy Heat
Roasted duck draped over polenta cake, kissed with wafer-thin peppers and swimming in a bath of Three Pepper Cider. Chef Thacker’s eyes sparkled when describing his sauce, and he should be proud — it delivered sweet, slow-building heat without drowning the duck. The cider? Juicy, semi-sweet apples with a trailing ember of fire, like a bedtime story told with ghost peppers.
Finale: The Pumpkin Palooza
Dessert came in the form of a puff pastry shell filled with pumpkin mousse, ragout of butternut squash, and crowned with whipped cream. Also: Pumpkin Spice Ale, both in the glass and inside the pastry itself, because restraint is for weaker chefs. The ale brought cinnamon, clove, a soft malt sweetness, and a whisper of bitterness, like pumpkin pie that had a college phase and came back wiser.
So what did we learn?
That food and beer still make beautiful music together. That cider is not just the afterthought of the gluten-averse. That good voices paired with good beverages will always command a room. And that sharing a pint with the person who created it just might be the ultimate anti-algorithm.
New Belgium Brewing is next to take the pairing stage at The Swiss this November. Expect the same magic. Expect something new. Expect to fall in love with hops, bubbles, and humanity all over again.
Cheers. Prost. And may your next pairing come with a high-five and a long pour.
