|Ale seizer: I took one look at this and|
grabbed it with both hands
No need to write in with an explanation. Being out the other side of a marriage that was a horrendously bad idea, I know only too well that what you think you want might not turn out as well as you expect.
But for the last few years, I don't think I've wished for that much really. Not for me the world peace or several lottery wins on others' wishlists. I may have wished for the odd Australian wicket now and then or a decent first innings total and I'm fairly sure I've wished a reasonable amount of hours in the day away; maybe even a whole year.
Take today, for instance. I approached it with no expectations at all and without a shadow of a doubt it's been one of the most relaxing I've had for a while. Pottering and bimbling all through it and a relatively decent drive back from Seaford that didn't take too long. Now the kids are tucked up in bed and story-read, all that remains for me to do is hang out the washing, neck this beer and write about it.
In the spirit of nothing-too-demanding that's characterised my weekend, I hoped today's wouldn't be challenging. And pulling the bottle out of the crate put a huge smile on my face, since it's a lovely sounding, bog-standard, straight-up-and-down English IPA.
Couldn't have wished for better. Cheers.
Beer: English IPA
Strength: A cheering 5.5%
Smell: Honeysuckle that's been rained on from a great height. The next morning when the rain's stopped.
Tasting notes: Malt? Who needs malt? This is violent, bitter attack from the outset. Not unlike the current Australian cricket team, it's snarling, uncouth, scornful and quite frankly not particularly sportsmanlike. I rocked back like a bouncer-evading tail-ender after my first sip and the short-pitched barrage didn't end there. And while the hostility crackles around your tongue like an unrelenting sledging, you can't help feeling a modicum of grudging respect for a style that's been out-of-sorts for some years but looks like it's clawing its way back to reclaim some of its former glories. Hats off to it.
Session factor: Would happily share a few in the pavilion after stumps. Moreish stuff, this.
Gut reaction: Grow a pair, show some guts and face the onslaught. If you lose after that, well at least you gave it a shot.
Actual beer: St Austell Proper Job. Yep, terrific beer. If I'd had to guess what it was, I'm fairly certain I'd have got it right. Now if I could only find another close to hand.