On Friday night, I found myself in the company of a few old friends for a discussion paired with a good number of swallows.
The beer was the topic of choice for the evening. A couple of my friends were quite adamant that England is the true home for those who appreciate the genuine flavor of beer. Years have been spent both brewing and sipping the hop-infused liquid, ranging from lighter hues to the deepest browns and even black beers. Flavor profiles varied from pale and sweet to dark and sharp, with bitterness and sourness present. Guinness can be sour from the bottle, yet a delight when pulled from a barrel.
Draft Double Diamond and Marstons Light can lead to quite a tipsy state; you’ll be drunk as a skunk after just a few.
For men, Old Peculiar is a drink of choice, while Directors comes with a warning of impending hangovers. When one is older or unwell, a robust stout or a Mackerson is what’s truly needed to bolster one’s spirits.
Avoid Barley Wine at all costs (it’s not wine but a dangerously potent beer), or Dragons Blood, a feeble bitter with a wretched taste.
To kickstart the morning, begin with a baby bottle of Bass. It ties the nerves together and ignites the day with a spark.
Warm beer, sipped during winter in a pub next to a roaring coal fire, takes years to develop a true preference. That is the essence of real beer.
A newcomer from the States, eager to challenge this long-held belief, claimed that the best options are the chemically produced beers, stating Bud as the finest among them.
In the USA, we consistently craft the finest ales, he argued.
Boris, an ex-miner from Germany and now an Aussie train driver, insisted that lagers from his homeland have always been viewed as the only proper drink found in Europe’s Beerkellers.
Among us sat a friend who departed the UK over four decades ago, now more Australian than the residents of Broome. He nodded in agreement with everyone, even acknowledging that beer in Europe tastes far better in a glass than from a can or bottle…yet, he remarked, we Australians know the true best beer, whether it’s Hahns, Swans, Fosters, or any number of others… especially when you’re by the sea, in the garden, or out in the bush, enjoying the sun at temperatures hitting 40 degrees. Just envisioning that icy cold amber liquid, chilling enough to freeze your blood as it glides over your tongue and cascades down your throat…be it from a can, bottle, or even a paper bag, is sheer bliss.
So while we may not be connoisseurs, any cold beer, good or bad… if an Aussie can enjoy it, it’s bloody great.
The night came to a close, or rather the following morning, and we all agreed, forget the discussion; it had been a fantastic conclusion to the drought… and we all stumbled off, ready to recover for next Friday’s debate.
Topics such as politics or religion were proposed, yet it was ultimately settled on… that’s right… the best method for drinking whiskey.
by TOG