Ahhhh…Beer, Doncha just love it?
….especially the beautiful slightly petillant superbly flavourful creations nursed into being by the tender mercies of boutique brewers throughout the nation.
I emigrated 18 years ago from Britain, home to ( arguably) some of the finest cask conditioned, live ales on the planet….cooled in a cellar ( if the publican is good at his job, and you have to be as real beer is a living breathing thing) and as all good beer deserves good treatment and proper pouring- brought up through a gleaming beer engine, to pour in creamy bursts into the waiting pint pot.
Every time I go back to the UK, I head for my favourite Free House ( not tied to one brewer so can stock all celestial brews) and just sit quietly in front of a pint of Greene King Abbot Ale, looking at it’s golden glow reverentially.
The first greedy glug releases a heady burst of hoppy base notes followed by a yeasty body and finally the glorious flowery top note of the hop finish…..OH.MY..GOD.
And it just goes on and on to the bottom of the glass…better have another just in case that was a fluke.
You gotta dig those hep cats the Babylonians for blessing us with the old amber fluid. I think I have loved beer from the age of 3 when my grandfather