I was confused by Front Porch on approach. It seemed dug into the side of a storage locker, with astroturf, and I could not see the bar at first glance. But Front Porch was on North Plains Industrial Road, among the tool shops and warehouses that shelter west Wallingford from civilization and the bustle of life. It was early September, the weather was still summery, but only humid enough to warrant a sweater. There was a threat of rain somewhere in the distance. The Regulars were in; the atmo was very mellow and congenial. If I did not seize the moment to enjoy my beer, I would regret it. All to say that I developed a crush on this brewery, and when it ceased operations, I was sad. Front Porch now operates out of 12% in North Haven, which is a great place in its own right. Still, setting makes at least 50% of the experience, and Front Porch had setting locked up. Thus pass the glories of the world...