Atwater Brewery (Grand Rapids, MI)

The dramatic shifts in downtown environments brought about by the COVID-19 pandemic, and the trends that have persisted some three years past its inception, have had a marked impact on commercial real estate. There are so many restaurants, pubs, and bars that survive not by the quality of their offerings, but their relative proximity to people desperate for anything moderately quick and moderately hot. 

The Grand Rapids location of Atwater Brewery, a one-time staple of the Detroit craft beer scene that was acquired by Molson Coors in 2020, is one such instance. It's not a place I would ever make a deliberate trip for, and for good reason: it is middling in every sense of the word, one or two decent beers notwithstanding. 

And yet, when attending Acton University 2023 just across the street at DeVos Place, and beset by out-of-town friends insistent on checking out Beer City USA, it was the perfect locale. Also, they had onion rings. Thank you to Aaron and David for joining me. 

Here is a review of onion rings from the Grand Rapids location of Atwater Brewery. 

Presentation and Appearance: (2.5/5)

This side order of onion rings comes on a flat metal tray with the requisite wax paper bedding. Tucked between a moderately sized mound of onion rings is a plastic cup of ranch. Though the quasi-industrial presentation may be an intentional callback to the original home of Atwater, I kind of doubt it. 

By eyesight alone, one can see these are almost certainly the same frozen Brew City brand dreck of onion rings that proliferate among breweries, bars, and brewpubs alike throughout this once great land. The mostly uniform coating is the key giveaway, with the only variation coming from cracked rings brought about in their preparation. 

Taste: (1/5)

There is almost nothing I have left to say about this particular variety of frozen onion rings. They are, for the most part, hollow and tasteless, much like this subsidiary of Molson Coors masquerading as a genuine craft brewery. The miniscule circles of onion that make up the body of the ring technically have a taste, but it is so minute you would be forgiven for forgetting about it entirely. 

The breading is worse. Even the requisite grease and salt seems to drip off of the onion rings into the void, a memory of something long lost and almost forgotten. Even the ranch, so often the savior of bland onion rings, is nothing. A thin, watery gruel that mocks me as I eat it. 

Texture: (1.5/5)

Like the taste, the texture of these onion rings is a cruel imitation of what an onion ring ought to be, but the faux-facsimile is slightly more believable here. The breading, slightly overcooked, does have a slight crunch. The onions, on the other hand, are thin, wet, and stringy, having taken the brunt of the heat from the fryer. 

Slippage was rampant with these rings, and the key culprit was the overwhelming void betwixt onion and breading. Most of the volume of these onion rings is in the air between an underwhelming interior and a deceptive exterior: an apt metaphor for the state of the brewery. 

Value: (2/5)

The side order of onion rings cost $5, and the most charitable interpretation I can make of that is that it isn't as much of a gouge as it could be. Are they frozen? Yes. Are they tasteless and overcooked? Yes. Is there a moderately filling quantity that doesn't make me hate my life after paying for it? Yes. 

Total: (7/20)