A Place for Good Beer & Community

Kerrville’s Pint & Plow forged from visions of bringing people together

By LEE NICHOLS
Photos by Kimberly Giles

Ask Jeremy Walther about his brewpub Pint & Plow in Kerrville and he might chat with you about beer and food. Or you might get an animated conversation about ways to make small towns vibrant, creative places to live, and how to keep them that way.

Either course will make for an engaging talk. Or it might simply be a single discussion — Walther certainly sees his town and his little brewpub, at the corner of Jefferson and Clay streets, as parts of a whole.

For this article, we’ll stick to the brewpub. But his bigger Kerrville plans are impressive — see the next story for a look at those.

Before Walther could start reimagining Kerrville, first he had to reimagine himself. He and his wife Maia, both Kerrville natives, did their time in Austin, like so many in this region. He worked as a landscaper and biologist, and then worked in lawn care, including running his own company developing biofuels.

But then — again, like so many in this region — he burned out on Austin and headed back home. He tried his hand at being a farmer but quickly figured out that wasn’t for him. Being mission-driven, he knew he needed more than just a job — “I needed a project,” Walther says.

About that time, his two brothers had also moved back to Kerrville from Austin. “We were looking around and realized it was very similar to the way it was when we were growing up — there was no place to hang out. There was not that community center the way you experience in other towns and cities in the form of a brewpub. You can go to the smallest town or any neighborhood in a big city and get the best representative slice of what that place is about by just hanging out in the brewpub for a few hours.”

Thus, a vision was born: “To use Kerrville-made beer, fresh food, and organic coffee, in a very relaxed, inclusive, open setting to build community in our hometown.”

There was just one problem — they didn’t know what they were doing.

“I had no background in beer, no background in food, no background in hospitality,” Walther says. But during their time in Austin, he got to know an Austin brewer named Josh Hare, who was in the planning stages of starting Hops & Grain Brewing, which became a hit in East Austin.

“We stayed in touch and I was small-talking him about this idea. He said, ‘If you want help with this, I’m in. If you want to use beer to build community, I am in. So what do you need?’ I said, ‘Josh, I need everything you can give me because I know nothing about making beer.’” Hare became a partner and trained Walther in brewing and concept.

After eight years in business, it’s safe to say the education went well. Pint & Plow is thriving and driving Walther’s vision.

That isn’t to say there weren’t challenges. There were nine months of building renovations. They had to hunt down a chef who could bring to life their menu ideas. And they had to discern what kind of beer would sell in Kerrville.

“We knew early on we didn’t want to be perceived as just a production facility or just a bar,” Walther says. “We wanted to be perceived as a family-friendly gathering space and restaurant.”

He also knew he wanted that restaurant to stand out.

“Kerrville has chicken-fried places, it has Mexican food, it has standard fare. We wanted to offer something that was a little more connected to a more modern agricultural heritage of Kerrville — locally grown produce, locally grown meat and eggs. How can we source as much local ingredients as we can? The name Pint & Plow came from that.”

And Walther knew exactly who could deliver it.

“There was one guy we had in mind that we wanted to work here. His name is Jeff Blakely. He was kitchen manager of Joe’s Jefferson Street Cafe, which when I was growing up was one of the best restaurants in Kerrville.”

Jefferson Street’s owners had decided to retire and close up shop, “so we hunted down Jeff.”

The results, laid out on the table during our interview, were very satisfying. We started with a giant Bavarian-style hot pretzel with an indulgent cheese dip. That was followed by a hearty Reuben sandwich on perfectly grilled, crispy-yet-tender bread; a Caprese salad with wonderfully fresh tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella; and house-made pickles that were to die for.

Other sandwiches are available, including pork, chicken salad, and a burger with grass-fed beef; or if meat’s not your thing, there’s a roasted beet or cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches.

If you’re craving pizza, you have your choice of the Harvest House (meat), the Hen House (chicken), or the Green House (veggie).

As for the beer, it strikes a balance of being diverse but approachable.

“I came at it from the consumer perspective,” Walther says. “We were the first brewpub in Kerr County, and this is Bud Light country. We didn’t want to come on too strong or pretentious. The model in the beginning was to not be too crazy — we want beer to be beer.”

So it’s no surprise that the light and refreshing San Y’Bon Lager is P&P’s flagship beer, made with American-grown corn and two-row barley from the Midwest.

Nonetheless, a visitor would do well to branch out into their Divide Belgian-style saison, Tchoupitoulas American IPA, or Off-Season Amber. (By the time you read this, the rich amber will pair perfectly with Oktoberfest weather.)

Yes, you might enjoy those styles even if you’re one of those light beer drinkers. Walther tells the story of one of his early customers:

“We had an old guy, he’s since passed away, named Lloyd. He was an industrial farmer from the Panhandle who retired to Kerr County and he was a Bud Light drinker and a neighbor. I told him to come by and I’d pour him a beer. He came in and said, ‘Jeremy, give me one of them Bud Lights!’ And I said, ‘Lloyd, damn you, you know we don’t have Bud Light. Try the San Y’bon.’ He liked it.

“So the next time he came in, he said, ‘Jeremy, give one of them San Y’bons.’ And I said, ‘I’m going to have you try the porter.’ And he was like, ‘I don’t like that s***!’ But he tried it and said, ‘That was really good!’

 “So the third time he came in, he said, ‘Jeremy, give me one of them root beers!’ I said, ‘Root beer?’ He said, ‘Yeah, that one you gave me last time!’ Ever since, that was his favorite beer. We knew if we could convert Lloyd, we were onto something.”

Indeed, Pint & Plow is onto something.

“It’s a way to promote Kerrville,” Walther concludes. “We want loyalty. We want people to feel like it’s their brewpub. We’re proud of the community response.”

PINT AND PLOW

332 Clay Street, Kerrville TX

pintandplow.com