I grew up next door to an Irish Catholic cop from upstate New York. When Jay and I knew we’d be venturing to the northeast for the first time, we asked him for his recommendations. This stoic guy got a big grin on his face, and rattled off an incredible list of stops. At the end he said, “But really the best part about New York is all the small towns. Most of them have a brewery, so when you get somewhere new, just find the brewery and you’ll find yourself downtown with great food.” 

On the first day of our month long stay on the Retrograss Farm, we followed our marching orders and looked up the closest brewery. It worked like a charm. Just ten minutes down the state highway, we found ourselves winding through idyllic pastoral scenes, across train tracks, and into the heart of Chatham, New York. Main Street was lined with brightly painted brick buildings framed with ornate moldings. The string of businesses were bookended on one side with a stately clock tower and on the other with Chatham Brewing.