It's Easter 2004. I'm sat in a hotel bar in Brugge, mispronouncing Duvel and about to have my beer epiphany.

In the grounds of Thornbridge Hall, Derbyshire, a stonemason's workshop is empty. The building that will witness the birth of Jaipur is still semi-derelict.

Over five hundred other UK breweries are still stainless-steel dreams. Five hundred.

Pete Brown has yet to begin blogging about beer. Facebook is only for Ivy League students. Twitter is just what birds do.

Many of the pubs that I drink in now have yet to have their renaissance. Many of the bars that I now visit in London (and a fair few of the beers I drink in them) don't yet even exist.

Seven years. Thousands of beers. A wholly different outlook.

In seven years. If I'm excited about beer now, how am I going to feel in 2018? >

This summer, I plan to go for a pint or three at the Queen’s Arms in Corton Denham, Somerset. Because I can't recall ever having drunk in Somerset before. There may have been a rugby club trip to Taunton in my polytechnic days. But back then, counties and countries all blurred into one long kebab & flatulence-riddled hangover.

And I want to drink Moor beer. And I really want to drink it unfined. And I want to see if it's a hard knock to sell the stuff.

Maybe UK drinkers accept hefeweizen because they've been told that cloudy is to style. But cloudy cask = fault. Too difficult to persuade cask drinkers that it could be otherwise? Well, if drinkers of the 'nation's favourite' can be taught to accept the fault - I'm sorry, defining feature -of DMS then surely the cask-drinking minority can be persuaded that turbid cask can be flavoursome?

Perhaps the answer lies in appropriate glassware. Or not, as the case may be. I can understand how licensees are loathe to serve turbid cask, lest it be seen as an indictment of their general cellar quality. If they serve you hefe it's likely to be in a branded vase-like glass that positively screams "It's OK! It's supposed to be cloudy! It's foreign muck!"

Given that there are so few UK cask brewers who release unfined beer, perhaps they ought to also supply suitable vessels for its consumption. Something that enhances the flavour and doesn't offend others' sensibilities. Traditional beer, traditional tankard. Or in this case, nano-keg and old-skool leather.


>

Go get a beer and then please do the following:

- think about where the beer came from. What do you know of the brewery, its history, the people behind the process?

- think not about aroma and flavour in comparative terms but how they meld together. Staccato? Segue?

- think about viscosity, carbonation, how the beer feels from your gums down to your throat. What do you feel? How does that feeling change as you continue to drink?

- think about the people you're drinking with (or not), the place where you're drinking, the time, the day, your mood, the weather and how all of these things affect your feelings towards the beer.



And then keep those thoughts to yourself for a while.



Try silent counsel for a change. Leave your smartphone alone. Enjoy the moment.

Reflect. Then Tweet.

Let's improve the signal-to-noise ratio for beer on Twitter.



1 - Yes, I've already started toning the down the volume of my random "I'm drinking this" tweets.

2 - the picture at the top of the article is from an excellent blog by Brian James Kirk, tech journalist and designer, who's well worth a read if you're even tangentially linked to hack writing in any way. >

Is it a porter or a stout?

Is it cask or keg?

Is it bottled conditioned or filtered?

Is it LocAle or imported?

Is it Goldings or Galena?

Is it whole cone or pellet hop?

Is it all malt or with adjunct?

Is it micro or macro?

Is it to-style or new-wave?

Is it barrel-fresh or barrel-aged?

Is it bright as a button or opaquely hazy?

Is it handpump or electric pump?

Is it traditional or modern?

Is it what I always drink? Is it what I've always been searching for?




The next time you find yourself asking one of these questions, stop.

Ask yourself: is it good beer?

The answer to that question is the answer that matters. >

Sometimes in monochrome

Sometimes in colour



You go to pubs and drink with people like this



And this



And this



And this

And you see a brewery grow from this


to this


And you have game-changing days like this


And attend events like this


And go to beer festivals like this


where you meet tickers like this


and this


and after sessions like this


you may need urinals like this


and you may regret looking like this


and giving your camera to someone else like this


And you end up doing this


When you drink beer

>

As regular readers of this deranged stream-of-consciousness will know, I don't hold much store in keeping beer back. Yes, I do age some bottles. Yes, most of those taste better for it. But the trap of buying great beer only to save it for a great occasion is one that's coated in infection, cardboard and general disappointment. I've seen grown men weep at the taste of Westvleteren that, rather than being The Finest Beer Known To Humanity, tuned out to be the ass-water of a diarrhoetic camel.

In short, Drink 'Em Like You Stole Them.

Or in this case, drink 'em like you paid not-a-lot for them-and-you-were-so-bejazzled-you-can't-really-remember-what-you-bought-and-forgot-where-you-put-them-after-so-you-may-as-well-drink-them-now-you've-found-them.

From the most random takeaway-bottle-bar in the world, the Brewing International Industry Awards in Burton, I bring you (in no more than three words):

Moa Pale Ale (New Zealand). Clean, lemon, schmemley.

BraufactuM Progusta (Germany). Herbal, caramel, Stoppemfromfloppen

Kiuchi Hitachino Nest Nipponia (Japan). Moudlyorange. NOT coconut.

Deschutes Jubel 2010 (USA). Nuts. Sugar. Contrafibularities.

Well, that was fun. More fun than catching your vitals in moving gears, less fun than landing jam-side up in a bucket of jam-coated strippers. But that's beer, people. Never boring, never predictable, always beer...


Tonight's ramblings were brought to you by the letters D and P. >

Whilst I wait for my antiquated camera phone to spew pixels onto my laptop in eager anticipation of The Scoopies tonight.... here's my Golden Pint winners.

Best UK Draught Beer - Thornbridge Jaipur. Often copied, Never equalled

Best UK Bottled Beer - Brewdog Punk IPA. Even when it tastes of pish.

Best Overseas Draught Beer - Bernard lager. All of it. Especially the unfiltered one.

Best Overseas Bottled Beer - Odell Cutthroat Porter. Sumptuous. And balanced.

Best Pumpclip or Label - Marble Pint. It's Ronseal.
























Pub/Bar of the Year - Sheffield Tap. A great reason for missing yet another train.

Beer Festival of the Year - Nottingham CAMRA - best beer selection and condition of any UK festival.

Supermarket of the Year - Asda. It sells Punk IPA. It's 20 minutes from my door.

Independent Retailer of the Year - too many to mention.

Online Retailer of the Year - ditto.

Best Beer Book or Magazine - Amber, Gold & Black

Best Beer Blog or Website - You'll have to wait for the Scoopies later on.

Best Beer Twitterer - Me. Obviously. Although @cgarviereg is ever-amusing

Food and Beer Pairing of the Year - Pizza and beer. Simples

In 2011 I’d Most Like To - Turn Off The PC, Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead

Open Category: Pointless Internet Beer Debate Of The Year - Cask or Keg. Or was it over the meaning of Black IPA? Or was it the efficacy of CAMRA?


The Scoopies are coming. I just have to go and drink a bottle of Goose Island Bourbon County.

Hic! >

My name is Simon and I am a Reluctant Scooper.

In the past four weeks, I have:

- drank nothing but imported bottled lager in a pub offering 12+ tip-top quality cask beers

- drank nothing but imported keg beer in a bar offering 8+ tip-top quality cask beers

- drank nothing but the same cask beer in a pub offering 15+ other tip-top quality cask beers

- drank supermarket beer at home rather than trek out to new bar openings and beer launches

- drank random cask beers suggested to me by folks on Twitter and Facebook whilst at a festival

The point? It’s easy to get hung up about method of dispense, about the shock of the new, about surfing the zeitgeist.

Ask yourself some questions.

Who suggests to you the beers that you drink? Who do you ignore? Why?

Where don’t you go to drink beer? Why?

What styles do you avoid? Why?

How does method of dispense make a difference? Why?

When did you last drink your ‘epiphany’ beer, the one that proved to you that beer can be not-sucky? Why?

I’ll answer my own questions tomorrow. >

With all the current kerfuffle about the validity and impact of the I Am A Craft Beer Drinker video, let’s throw this into the mix.

How about a video with a simple, inspirational message, delivered by random drinkers in random bars, with no branded glassware/pumps/taps/mirrors impinging. Hell, I’ll even give you the script:

“This is my pint. There are many others like it, but this one is mine. My pint is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my pint is useless. Without my pint, I am useless.

I must drink my pint true. I must drink smarter than my enemy, who is trying to vomit on me. I must drink up before he vomits on me. I will.

Before Lupulus I swear this creed: my pint and myself are defenders of our craft, we are the masters of our enemy, we are the saviours of hops and malt. So be it, until there is no enemy, but good ale.

Cheers!”

I’m no movie director (as my Youtube channel shows) but if anyone want to take on the challenge, be my guest.


- I've been itching to spoof Full Metal Jacket for ages. Serendipity is a wonderful thing. >