#1) It’s a challenge to educate people with beer samples.

With four beers to sample, and a queue of thirsty punters, I reckon I had about thirty seconds to describe the beer styles on offer, push for a decision and pour a beer whilst giving just a sliver of its backstory. Then it was on to the next customer. And repeat for the best part of five hours. You want the customer to try a great beer and understand why it’s great, you want them to remember the beer’s name and – let’s be honest – you want them to buy some either today or on-line at some time. It’s a huge ask in thirty seconds.

#2) Some people say the most obvious things. I had to avoid the obvious answers.

“I don’t like beer, but I like this one”.

Congratulations, that’s because you’ve just tasted your first well-crafted beer made with quality ingredients.

“What’s the strongest beer you’ve got?”

Well, how about forgetting what gets you pissed quickest and try a beer with strong flavours instead? Here’s a chance to redefine your drinking parameters; seize it.

“I don’t like Belgian beer”.

Yeah, that bucket of Jupiler you tried on that stag trip to Brugge was obviously representative of the country’s rich and varied beer heritage.

“Have you got any bitter?”.

Do we have bitter-tasting beer? Yes, some of the world’s finest. But if you mean four-percentish brown slurry, then the answer is no. A sensory descriptor should not define a beer style; both become devalued as a result.

Tongue bitten, objectivity restored, potential future customer identified.

It was actually refreshing to be in a position where I could challenge someone’s beer assumptions. Open their eyes to perceiving beer in a way they’d never done before.. I actually got a kick out of putting a good beer in someone’s hands and seeing a flicker in their eye, a smile on their face, the inkling of a beer epiphany taking place.

More tomorrow. >

It's been a lovely lazy Saturday. Forest beat Man City, there's toad in the hole for tea and I'm sat planning my first country walk of the year whilst enjoying a glass of Hopshackle Restoration.


My first experience of this beer was at Peterborough CAMRA festival in 2008. And damn impressive it was - bags of spiced alcohol, leather, pepper and chocolate. More impressive was that this was an English brewer taking on a Belgian style and investing enough time and care to make a wonderfully complex and satisfying beer.

When I was offered the chance to buy a case of this year's brew, I jumped at the chance. Restoration is brewed annually around February/March and then aged for six months before bottling. My bottle was quite feisty, a blossoming head thinning quickly to a drumskin-tight mushroom cover. There's a rich sugary aroma, vineous notes and crushed plums fighting past a peppery edge. Just enough carbonation delivers a soft feel with stacks of fresh malts and warming alcohol.

This was delectably easy to drink. A proper sit-by-the-fire and chill-out beer. So super soft, simply spun-sugar sweet. As good as this is now, I can't wait to try one during Christmas 2009 to see how those flavours may change.
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It's a cold New Year's Eve and I'm several beers behind in this 'twelve beers' malarkey. Truth is, I've not been in the mood over the last two days - too tired, a palate jaded by overly spicy food. But now I'm ready for a real Christmas cake of a beer by the fire as I warm my chestnuts. My wife will settle for anything as long as it's a quad. So, hello St Bernardus Abt.


Actually this is beer whilst on the go - my in-laws have just arrived for drinks and nibbles. They're having a Wii so, whilst the falafel's in the oven, I can tell you the five things about St. Bernardus that I absolutely adore.

#1: It's not Westvleteren. It might be close, given the historical similarities, but by not being Westy I can order it online, friends and relations can buy me bottles and the price doesn't get driven through the roof by beer hunters on some ale-lust-for-glory.

#2: My wife loves it. How foolish I was to think that she'd be more attracted to fruit beers. Now, every Belgian bottle that I crack open is met with the question 'is it a quad?' - and she has an air of faint disappointment if the answer's no.

#3: They get the job done. Basic website, no overblown marketing on the bottle label, even though they have a history that most breweries would boil their heads for.

#4: I don't suffer from beer guilt when drinking it. Some bottles I want to share, some bottles I want to age, some lone bottles I want to cling on to like an only child. Some bottles I want to neck back, some bottles I want to drink with fey abandon, some bottles I want to hand out to strangers in the street. When I drink any of those I suffer from beer guilt. Not Saint B - I enjoy the very thought of the bottle top hitting the table, the pillowy head filling and not spilling from a chalice glass. The first whiff of coffee and yeast. And.....

#5: The sheer RaisinNutSpicySherryDoughyOrangeAppleyExcitingCaramelCoating fun of that first sip.

And there you have it. The last sweet drop drained. The stuffed vine leaves nearly all gone. The evening's about to grind through the gears, all champers and salmon and rhythm and blues. It'll be fun but not as much as a fireside, a flickering candle and another Saint B.

Thanks to beermerchants.com for another damn fine beer

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