Archive for the ‘Beer’ Category
Notes: Neither of us is Christmassy this year but it is Winter and that requires/demands gorging. I baked a gallon of biscotti to go with the pair of Vin Santos on the wine rack, there’s a round of cornbread soon to be a dressing ingredient for the turkey crown tomorrow, and there’s some raw pizza sauce in the background. I sold my keyboard on e-Bay and am waiting for the guy to come pick it up (down to just the uke and the guitar). Jackie begged off the Peanuts Christmas this year but I listened to David Sedaris’ Santaland Diaries on my run a little while ago. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Notes: I can’t fault this beer in any way at all. The venue, Brew Dog in Shepherds Bush, is as annoying as getting stuck on a broken down subway full of people on their way to Comic Con or a gaming convention.
Name: Phoenix Smoked Porter
Rating (1-5): 3 out of 5 “Santa’s Laps”
Notes: The beer was nothing special and the Lass o’ Richmond where I purchased the brew tried to shortchange me then did a bunch of doublespeak to make it sound like I was the one with the mathematics wrong.
On a similar note, Ian Dury had many reasons to be cheerful:
none of which included running 8 miles across London on a cold, winter day to get to his memorial bench only to find that the sound feature has been removed:
The bench is in Richmond Park, where the wild deer are docile:
So docile, in fact, that as well armed as they are they barely take note while something as recklessly dangerous as drunken Brits on holiday approach close enough to touch them. Like Americans at an all-you-can-eat buffet, they just keep on eating despite the likelihood of imminent doom. This is as fitting a metaphor for this fucked up year as I have seen.
But, the sunset was beautiful this evening. 1, 2, 3….
Notes: Three pubs into the run between and around Amersham and Chesham and there was not a single one with an interesting porter or stout. I knew I had a couple in the fridge, but this was disappointing. As I left the Red Lion to find the Chesham Station, though, the Red Squirrel caught my eye. Gadzooks! Another micro, the fourth this week! I went in and the place was a treat (write-up soon to follow).
At one point one of the barflies remarked that ‘alcohol is the solution.’ I reached into my backpack and handed him the Christmas greeting that arrived that afternoon from an American friend I’ve known for donkey’s years:
and, on the inside:
She’s been down a bit, as have we all, since the US Presidential Debacle (2016 version). Write her a note if you want to do a good deed before Santa makes his final decisions (there’s a link on her currently underused blog).
Notes: Remarkable porter at the Owl and the Pussycat (micropub/microbrewery). Couldn’t find anything Cole Porter related to use for the Christmas themed rating, tonight, so opted for lumps of coal (“hey, it may be a lump but that ain’t coal”) in your stocking — or something other appropriate punishment — if you’ve been naughty this year. Sorry, my mind is in the gutter after getting spammed with this Tweet on the way to the pub: