Getting a beer can be tricky, especially if you're doing a spot of bodybuilding. Nevertheless, accompanied by Mr Windy, Heath, Addie and myself all went to do some serious reportage on the state of the local ales. So, before the pumping-iron-obsessed Heath vanished to drink strange frothy things which look like milkshakes but aren't (I don't believe him; the only possible alternative is the type of volcanic mud I've seen bubbling away in documentaries about New Zealand) we sat down to sample a couple of the local brews.
As Addie has reported, Heath had only a half pint. The half he chose was a Mr Milky... Oh no, wait a minute, that was later. Actually, we all (including Heath) had a Slater's Premium Bitter at 4.4%. Addie and I formulated our considered opinions over a whole pint while Heath sniffed at his half like it was a Shakespearean poison concocted for Lady MacBeth. It was ok if unspectacular, lacking any real flavour except, somehow, nuts. (Addie thinks everything has a hint of nuts about it as he drinks, but this seems to me to simply be a physical reflection of his own psychological state -- however, just for once, I agreed with him.) Quite pleasing; 6 out of 10.
Then it got tricky. The next pint was called The Two Halves by Vale Brewery at 4.0%. While Heath persisted with trying to bring himself to drink the first one he'd ordered, Mr Windy decided to go for just a half of the next beer himself, resulting in the need to repeat and clarify an order for "two and a half pints of Two Halves". Adding that he could have asked for "four and a half halves of Two Halves" didn't help, since although funny it would have resulted (if served exactly as requested) in two and a quarter pints of Two Halves. It would have been even trickier if Heath had wanted another half, as that would have been two pints and two halves of Two Halves. Of course, if we had had two halves of Two Halves and two pints of Two Halves, that would have actually been three pints of Two Halves or six halves of Two Halves. Luckily we didn't, and a dazed and confused Heath instead vanished in search of some milky chocolate froth. Perhaps the brewery should have called it One Pint, but since it was soccer themed I suppose the phrase "a game of one pint" makes no sense at all.
Despite its complexity, it was very nice. Light and fresh, but full of flavour, a seven out of ten, but getting another point for entertaining us with its name. Now Heath, was that thick brown bubbly thing you had later as delicious as it looked? No? Pity.
As Addie has reported, Heath had only a half pint. The half he chose was a Mr Milky... Oh no, wait a minute, that was later. Actually, we all (including Heath) had a Slater's Premium Bitter at 4.4%. Addie and I formulated our considered opinions over a whole pint while Heath sniffed at his half like it was a Shakespearean poison concocted for Lady MacBeth. It was ok if unspectacular, lacking any real flavour except, somehow, nuts. (Addie thinks everything has a hint of nuts about it as he drinks, but this seems to me to simply be a physical reflection of his own psychological state -- however, just for once, I agreed with him.) Quite pleasing; 6 out of 10.
Then it got tricky. The next pint was called The Two Halves by Vale Brewery at 4.0%. While Heath persisted with trying to bring himself to drink the first one he'd ordered, Mr Windy decided to go for just a half of the next beer himself, resulting in the need to repeat and clarify an order for "two and a half pints of Two Halves". Adding that he could have asked for "four and a half halves of Two Halves" didn't help, since although funny it would have resulted (if served exactly as requested) in two and a quarter pints of Two Halves. It would have been even trickier if Heath had wanted another half, as that would have been two pints and two halves of Two Halves. Of course, if we had had two halves of Two Halves and two pints of Two Halves, that would have actually been three pints of Two Halves or six halves of Two Halves. Luckily we didn't, and a dazed and confused Heath instead vanished in search of some milky chocolate froth. Perhaps the brewery should have called it One Pint, but since it was soccer themed I suppose the phrase "a game of one pint" makes no sense at all.
Despite its complexity, it was very nice. Light and fresh, but full of flavour, a seven out of ten, but getting another point for entertaining us with its name. Now Heath, was that thick brown bubbly thing you had later as delicious as it looked? No? Pity.
Keep meaning to say my favourite English beers (so far) were Gale's HSB/HampshireBitter for obvious reasons and a certain Rebellion Red had at a village pub between Henley and Marlow. Those are the ones that stand out in my mind anyway.
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