"Who loves amazing craft beer and partying in Philly?" she asks. THIS GUY

Why go to Philadelphia for New Year’s? Well, Philly is one hell of a beer and food centric city. I haven’t been there since I was legally permitted to drink, and I had 6 beautiful and party-lovin’ ladies offering to be my tour guide. SOLD!

I arrived in the early evening on Wednesday the 30th and immediately cracked open a Pilsner Urquell. After a couple of drinks, the tour guides and I headed to Monk’s Cafe. I had heard countless good things about Monk’s and I wanted to see for myself if this Belgian beer emporium lived up to all the hype.

The beer selection was better than I had imagined. The “kid in a candy store” reference comes to mind. To kick things off, I started with a Pliny the Elder on tap. This was the first time I have had the Elder and I was simply blown away. You really can’t ask for much more out of an IPA/Double IPA. Following the Pliny, I had a delectable Rochefort 8, some amazing Brussels Mussels, and a 17.5% ABV Mikkeller Black to wash it all down.

After the delicious food and drinks, we hopped a cab to the Eulogy Belgian Tavern for a couple of roasty Ten FIDYs from Oskar Blues. Delicious canned beer makes for a great nightcap.

New Year’s Eve began with a trip to Reading Terminal Market to hunt-down our lunch from the plethora of vendors, and later stopping at the Foodery (which sells no food, only beer) to grab beer for the pre-game celebration. The beer selection at the Foodery was on point; I created a mixed six-pack of De Dolle Brouwers Stout, Saint-Martin Cuvée De Noel, New Holland Dragon’s Milk, Stoudt’s Winter Ale, Hitachino White Ale, and a Terrapin Big Hoppy Monster. There were still some Pilsner’s back at the place, so no need to overdo it.

To ring in the New Year, our party of seven headed to Drinker’s Tavern (home of the original PBR ripcord, and “$40 buys the bar a shot” motto) to consume copious amounts of adult beverages. The selection of beer was nothing to rave about but the Dead Guy Ale and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale they were serving hit the spot. They certainly helped chase down all the random shots that people were passing my way. Drinker’s was a great time and a pretty good bang for the buck.

You (or at least I) would think that New Year’s Day would be somewhat tame after a crazy night of debauchery. This is not the case in Philadelphia, where New Year’s Day is when the real party begins. The people of Philly freak out over the Mummers Parade. “What the hell is a Mummer?” you may ask. Well, your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that people dress in elaborate-colorful-crazy costumes, have a parade, and party like it’s going out of style. If you’re in town for the holiday, this is a must-see event, just make sure to dress for the tundra.

My next day started with brunch and then a tour of the pubs by some old friends. My favorites included Johnny Brenda’s with lively Sly Fox Chester County Bitter and Victory HopDevil. Both were straight from the cask and very well-received. Also, Devil’s Den with Barbãr Winterbok and Boulder Mojo Risin’. After running, well actually cabbing, all over the city, I decided to meet back up with my tour guides and a fellow craft beer lover who was celebrating his birthday. Happy birthday Mark!

I joined the party – mummers, my tour guides, and several other thirsty patrons – at the Dark Horse. A very large establishment – easy to get lost in and many stairs to fall down. After shots, some sloppy-dancing, spilled drinks and drunken follies, it was time to call it a night. This was a great way to finish the three day craft beer bender that we were on.

Ringing-in the New Year Philly-style was an amazing decision. Drinking phenomenal beer, eating delicious food, and having exceptional company is the perfect way to spend any holiday.

Special thanks to my posse of beautiful party companions – Britt, Blaire, Erin, Alex, Maria, and Rebecca – for being the ultimate tour guides and tearing up Philadelphia with me. It was a New Year’s I will never forget…except for the parts I can’t remember.