But only The Moose's Tooth Pizzeria and Pub fills the role of bohemian hangout. . . where everyone from hippies to yuppies goes for hoppy brews and tasty pizzas, salads and soups.
April, 1998The Moose's Tooth refers to an Alaskan peak near Denali ,"The Great One", also known as Mt. McKinley, the tallest peak in North America and the towering ruler of an entirely inhospitable arena full of ice walls and crackling glaciers. It also refers to a warm, casual, funky pizzeria where designer pies and brews turn a great day of tele-skiing into something just this side of sublime.
Though a relatively young beer city, Anchorage contains its share of craft-beers and array of menus. But only The Moose's Tooth Pizzeria and Pub fills the role of bohemian hangout, where everyone from hippies to yuppies goes for hoppy brews and tasty pizzas, salads and soups. Indeed, anyone looking for a comfortable setting adorned with climbing ropes and a lava lamp need search no further.
Apparently, a lot of locals wanted this sort of pub since The Tooth surpassed the fifth-year projections of its owners, Rod Hancock and Matt Jones. "Maybe we dreamt small," said Hancock, "but the amount of business sure caught us off guard." Put in perspective, The Tooth opened June of 1996 and outgrew itself by the following June. In layperson's terms, finding a table before 10 p.m. requires lots of patience during the summer months, even with the additional seating on the outdoor deck.
Meanwhile, the brewers ran themselves silly with a 7-barrel brewhouse, no cooler space and a brew schedule that had them at the kettle four to five days a week. Aside from having a small brewhouse, they also had minimal storage space and inadequate utility service, forcing them to get beer out the door as soon as they made it. To supply six or more brews, root beer and ginger ale, they worked fast and furious, hardly keeping up with demand at the pizzeria, let alone anywhere else. All that will change with their new 30-barrel brewhouse made by AAA Fabrications. They hope to finish installing their new equipment at their new brewery site by the end of February. The move will enable The Tooth to supply its own restaurant as well as other draft accounts in Anchorage, Girdwood, and, possibly, Seward. Within the next year or so they may bottle and distribute to the West Coast, though Jones considers the prospect somewhat daunting. "I don't know how it will shake out when even big breweries are having trouble moving bottles," said Jones. "It's a little nerve wracking."
After all, when Jones and Hancock met at the University of Washington in the mid-80s, the craft-brew industry had just started to rock and shelf space seemed endless. With the opening of Big Time Brewery, the two young college students spent a good few nights enjoying the fruits of Seattle's enviable beer scene. Even today, Jones considers Big Time his favorite beer spot in Seattle. He also likes Portland's Lucky Labrador as well as some of the McMenamin's brewpubs. It's that love of good beer that made it difficult for him to return to Alaska without a plan. A resident since he was 14 years old, Jones knew he wanted to live in Alaska, but he hated the idea of missing out on local brews. Thus, with a law degree in hand, he headed home to Alaska with the goal of starting a brewery and passing the bar exam.
Though he achieved both, it's the brewery that created the biggest challenge. Jones intended to work as the sole brewer, but the overwhelming volume of business forced the two owners to hire staff in a rush. He now enlists the help of Dan Treat, who brewed in Ft. Collins, local engineer Clark Pelz, and Jim Buchart, who brewed at Midnight Sun Brewery in Anchorage.
Truth is, the Tooth's success surprised a lot of people, not because of the concept, but because of the hurdles they had to overcome. Unlike the other Anchorage breweries that opened in the last two years, The Tooth started with minimal capital in what a real estate agent would describe as an undesirable site with a history of failed pizzerias. It's in midtown, not downtown, and sits in a nondescript building without adequate parking, access or, as it turns out, seating. On the up side, it was cheap, available and immune to the congested downtown competition.
Since then, they added a back prep area and deck, both necessary to handle more volume, albeit not at the level they need to deal with demand. "We've had a lot of good fortune," said Hancock. Of course, that means they have also had to grapple with expansion and change. Minimally, adding the larger brewery with 15-barrel and 30-barrel fermentation vessels forges the path to Tooth beers without the mid-summer crowds that frighten outdoor adventurers used to isolation. That means both the bohemian beer-lover just off the mountain and the average weekend warrior trying to show off some war wounds might find a Pipeline Stout, Prince Williams Porter or Moose's Tooth Ale (Scottish) without all the hustle and bustle. Unfortunately, getting some peace and quiet with your beer-enjoyment means giving up the lava lamp.
