The Watering Hole: Summit Public House, 601 Summit Ave E #102, CAPITOL HILLThe Atmosphere: “Public House” as opposed to the more common, shortened “pub” is more than apt for the Summit, in that you can walk right in and make it your home–there just happens to be beer there. A group of people had an intense game of Settlers of Catan spread out on one table, but didn’t seem hindered by passerby or scarce bar space. People settle into the Summit like the grungy couch in their parents’ basement, even though virtually every inch of the bar–the seats, the tables, the walls–are stiff and wooden.Despite being on Capitol Hill, it doesn’t feel like a Capitol Hill bar. At Summit and Mercer, it’s a little bit of a hike from most of the other area watering holes (except for Sun Liquor). But that’s part of its appeal: it’s basically the only neighborhood joint that the Hill has left, and even if you move to the Hill for the more boisterous aspects of its nightlife, sometimes you just need your little neighborhood bar. The bartender confirmed: “It’s just like an eight to ten block radius of people that just show up.”The Barkeep: Garrett Bristow looks barely 21, but has to be at least 23, since he’s been working at the Summit for a couple of years. He seamlessly moved from taking drink orders to answering my questions–everyone seems in their element at the Summit, and the bartenders are no exception. When asked how and why he started working here, he shrugged and said, “a friend of a friend.”The Drink: He recommended the Summit Lemonade: well vodka, Triple Sec, Pellegrino lemonade, a splash of soda and a float of Chambord. “You drink this?” I asked, surprised. He responded, “Sometimes.”Garrett confirmed that most of their business is in beer; he says the owner is a “real beer guy.” “Most bars have a cocktail menu,” he said. The Summit didn’t even have a signature drink, much less a list. Hence, one summer day, the Summit Lemonade was born, a collaborative effort from the bar’s softball team. Garrett says that it’s a good summertime drink but, since it’s October, he added, “but obviously year-round.”The Verdict: Granted, there was something weird about drinking a lemony summer drink out on the cold patio in the dark. It’s not quite the sugar bomb you’d expect–somehow, the Chambord anchors the flavor–but it’s definitely not what you would expect from a bar that doesn’t even look like it serves liquor.On the flip side, this was the most honest-tasting sugar drink I’d ever had–maybe partially because it was served to me in a Roger’s pint glass, but mostly because it wasn’t designed for hiding the taste of liquor (although it did), but for fostering good, clean summer drunkenness. However, it doesn’t taste like it was designed for a good, clean, hangover-free fall morning after, so I switched to a friend’s pitcher of beer immediately afterward.