The Look
It probably doesn't matter what the beer was.
It could have been Mikkeller American Dream, either at the start of the tasting session or at its death two hours later by when it had opened its legs and showed its different class.
It could have been the Gruut Wit, where coriander was a sledgehammer to some yet a mere echo to others.
It could have been the Glazen Toren Saison d'Erpe-Mere, an exercise in needlepoint flavour, prickling & running across palates.
It could have been the Stift Engelszellaz Gregorious, in all its liquid Toblerone splendour.
It's the look.
On people's faces when they're confounded and delighted and surprised and fascinated and awestruck by the beer they're tasting.
I poured great beers for great people today at the foreign beer tasting at Norwich Beer Festival. Those looks... that's what makes it for me. Like IndyManBeerCon before. When people find a beer that isn't so much game-changing, more that it rips up their rule book and lets them start again.
It could have been Mikkeller American Dream, either at the start of the tasting session or at its death two hours later by when it had opened its legs and showed its different class.
It could have been the Gruut Wit, where coriander was a sledgehammer to some yet a mere echo to others.
It could have been the Glazen Toren Saison d'Erpe-Mere, an exercise in needlepoint flavour, prickling & running across palates.
It could have been the Stift Engelszellaz Gregorious, in all its liquid Toblerone splendour.
It's the look.
On people's faces when they're confounded and delighted and surprised and fascinated and awestruck by the beer they're tasting.
I poured great beers for great people today at the foreign beer tasting at Norwich Beer Festival. Those looks... that's what makes it for me. Like IndyManBeerCon before. When people find a beer that isn't so much game-changing, more that it rips up their rule book and lets them start again.
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