Shops specializing in flavored, or “dirty,” sodas have proliferated in Utah; while many of the state’s residents are prohibited from consuming alcohol or coffee for religious reasons, there is certainly no ban on sugar. Shops like Sodalicious and Swig have truly gone the extra step — adding shots of flavored syrup and creamer to their drinks — and have even come to legal blows over who’s allowed to use the word “dirty” in describing their wares. We headed to Swig and sampled several of the concoctions (a large 44-ounce soda with a shot of syrup is $1.99; the specialty sodas can run around $3). The Missionary — Sprite with shots of coconut syrup, dairy creamer and something called “Tiger’s Blood” (it tasted like piña colada) — I found undrinkable. The Big Al, however — Diet Coke with coconut syrup and lime — was surprisingly tasty.

Fortunately, better food options awaited me elsewhere. Straw Market has fantastic breakfast deals, including their “short breakfast” — two eggs, hash browns and toast or cinnamon roll, for only $4. I opted for the $3 breakfast burrito instead. An extra frugal tip is to go near closing time, when they put their baked goods on sale for 50 cents an item: a couple came in when I was there and nearly cleaned out the bakery case. I also had a good experience at Layla Mediterranean Grill and Mezze, a restaurant in nearby Holladay. I was able to create a filling dinner and save a few bucks by selecting a three-item combo from the appetizers section for $14. I got a couple of meaty crab cakes, some tender stuffed grape leaves and some excellent French fries covered with a za’atar spice mixture.

After a good dinner, I wanted to experience some Salt Lake City night life. I will admit that I didn’t think it would offer much. I was wrong. There’s a healthy and active bar culture, even if it’s slightly hampered by the state’s drinking laws. I learned this the hard way: I went into the Copper Onion, a place I’d heard good things about, and asked if I could sit down and have a drink. A woman who was eating at a counter stood up and began ushering me toward the door. “First of all, you can’t just ‘have a drink.’ You have to order food. But we’re closing.” Lesson learned: In Utah restaurants, you have to order food in order to be served alcohol. Another rule is that the preparation of alcohol cannot be visible to patrons in newer restaurants, a regulation sometimes referred to as the “Zion Curtain” law.

I headed toward Main Street instead, which had no shortage of actual bars. The sidewalks were packed with people; groups of girls stumbled in and out of bars, guys sat on large planters lining the parkway, checking their texts. It was a loud, buzzy scene, and I barely even noticed when a random young woman approached me, pointed and slurred, “Ok. You. Come on, come with me.” She and her friends beckoned me to follow into a packed bar called Whiskey Street. I went and, finding the place a bit loud for my taste, quickly made my exit a few minutes later. The place next door was more my scene: a bar called Bodega with a “speakeasy”-style bar called the Rest in the basement. (There actually wasn’t anything secret about it; I just asked if I could go downstairs.) In the quiet, cozy space, I ordered a Little Horse ($11), a delicious cocktail with vodka, blackberry and lemon juice.

The Rest was fairly elegant, with its antique-appearing light fixtures, taxidermied animal heads mounted on the walls, and shelves crammed with hardcover books. A place I went to later, X-Wife’s Place, was a dive in the best possible way. Indifferent service, cheap drinks, cheaper pool tables, all in a run-down shack of a building? That’s my kind of place. I got a $1.50 Coors (they also do 16-ounce Miller Lites for $2) and headed out to the back patio, where there were some tables, couches and a cornhole game. The pool tables at X-Wife’s Place, which are just a buck to begin with, are free with a drink purchase, Monday through Thursday from noon until 7 p.m.

My favorite experience, though, was at a Real Salt Lake Major League Soccer game — my first, ever — at Rio Tinto Stadium, against the Chicago Fire. While the cheapest seats on the team’s website were $35, I went on to StubHub and snagged a $12 general admission standing ticket right near the goal. The game, which Real Salt Lake won, was absolutely raucous, especially in my area. The diverse crowd of fans, some of whom have formed their own clublike supporters groups were continually shouting, chanting, waving flags and beating drums. One group of supporters behind me flew a large banner that read in Spanish, “Esta Pasion Es Real,” or “This Passion Is Real.” Feeling the electricity of a rocking stadium as the sun set in the distance over the Oquirrh Mountains, I found myself becoming a convert, too.