Bitter experience

Sharp practice: a sour beer that delivers
more than meets the eye

The mid point. The difficult third. The part when you question why. The overwhelming sensation of nausea as you return from yet another pre-Christmas get-together no longer in need of a beer. 

It would be so much easier to go to bed. Lie down and forget about it all. Smile willingly as another day's chore floats off into the ether of your imagination; that same imagination that thought up this ridiculous idea in the first place.

Over the years, it's been around this time I've had to stare at myself full in the face and wonder why I do this. It hurts. It's not a task lightly undertaken. Frankly, it's really fucking hard. I met an ex-colleague after work for 'a couple' of pre-Christmas drinks and that obviously escalated. No more beer is needed.

And yet there it is. A bottle of beer staring accusingly at me wondering when I'm going to get round to drinking it and, more importantly, write about the bugger. It's around this time of year I start feeling those little bottles are the enemy. They represent the daily dose of labour through which I need to go. They line up like a 24-strong army of mocking little shits, just waiting for their chance to cock a beery snook at my everyday life.

Quite often, I feel like they will win. Like they've faced me down and they'll emerge triumphant the day after I was supposed to drink them, smugly sitting there in the crate and quietly thinking to themselves that they were the one to derail the project.

Well, they're wrong. No matter how difficult it gets, they're going to be drunk. I may appreciate them less than I would have given a clear palate, but they're having it and there's no question. Tonight's sour probably thought it had a decent chance of survival this evening. It is wrong.

Beer: Kernel London Sour (Barrel Aged)
Strength: A mercifully mediocre 4.1%
Smell: Unnervingly like a seasoned pub urinal that houses 'Lemon Zest' fragrancers.
Tasting notes: A classic Berliner Weiss with little to shout about but everything to insinuate. Where the Kindl Weiss earlier this month failed, this one succeeds by picking up the baton and not only running with it but ramming said baton right where the sun doesn't shine. Because it has body that can not only accommodate said baton, it's more than willing to accept it too. I'm uncertain as to what kind of barrel it was aged in (though I'll guess at a white wine), but whatever it was, that aging process has breathed life into what could have been a total wet fart of a beer. It's not one of Kernel's best offerings, granted, but over the course of a mouthful, you at least feel like you've had some attention paid to you.
Session factor: Dizzyingly high. Top of the Shard levels of drinkability and with a low enough alcohol volume to make you feel like you're on an eternal beery dumb waiter.
Arbitrary score: 161,510