Bag back, bad back, Borussia Mönchengladbach

Single fault: not sure the carbonation
levels were quite right here

Apologies for the no-show over the last couple of days. Sometimes you're just completely incapable of drinking beer, let alone writing about it, and that was definitely the case on Sunday and Monday. 

It's probably too soon to start drinking again and I was seriously considering giving it a miss for the third day running, but having been reunited with the bag I lost last week, I'm in the mood for a tiny celebratory. Lets hope it doesn't put me out of kilter for the remainder of what promises to be a tough few days any way.

Fair to say I'm still sporting a few aches, but the hope is they will be alleviated by the addition of a bottle or two of good beer and a few more paracetamol. That will still leave me a day behind schedule, but I really don't want three beers this evening. No chance.

I realise I do crap on at some length about how difficult this calendar is to keep up regularly, so I'll try and wrap these up swiftly and hopefully put the brief hiatus behind me.

One comment I did get at the weekend in response to me moaning about how hard an undertaking the calenar is was that these preambles might be a bit long to maintain readers' interest, so let's get on with it, shall we?

Beer: Redchurch Brewery Wild Isolation
Strength: A modest if slightly unwelcome 5.4%
Smell: Sarson's vinegar with just the merest hint of pear drops
Tasting notes: Wait a minute; I need another sip of that. Nope. None the wiser. This one's really difficult to describe. From the smell, you're expecting something rasping with even more sting at the end, but what you get is something that for all the world tastes like it was originally destined to be an IPA. It's sherbert fountain at first, Bramley apple crumble in the middle and unripe green olives at the end. Now that might not sound the most complimentary of reviews, but really, this is quite an achievement for a beer. Just because it gives you something you weren't expecting doesn't necessarily mean it's bad, right? The unexpected can be pleasantly surprising as I recall. Unfortunately, as the fizz subsides (and there really isn't enough of that from the outset) the taste takes on a more earthy flavour (as does the smell). Not one I'm overly delighted to be drinking.
Session factor: Initially massive but fading to just above average.
Arbitrary score: 141,512

Top Ranke: this Wevelgem stunner is one
of the best of the season

Beer: De Ranke Saison de Bottignies
Strength: An unappreciated 5.5%
Smell: Shandy Bass. It really smells like Shandy Bass.
Tasting notes: It does not taste like Shandy Bass. In fairness, it doesn't really taste like a saison either. But it's ruddy delicious. In an instant, I am a returning farmhand just back from a back-breaking stint in the barley field ready and gasping to slake an incredible thirst. Immediately I drink in musty oak-beamed barnhouses filled with shafts of dancing sun dust, old bales of hay and oily smelling agricultural equipment that's lain unused for a good 50 years. The first glug slices through my drying tongue as a sharp plough would churn up the fields I have just worked in a few months' time. It mellows like the approaching autumn's fruit and gently fades in a golden haze of the now-setting sun, lulling me softly into the night and the coming winter months. God, this is good.
Session factor: Considerable. If I were feeling better and had a few more bottles of this, they'd be cued up in the fridge as I type.
Arbitrary score: 151,216