Yesterday they were brewing again at the Maltings, so took my eldest son (Stonch's elder brother - maybe I should start calling him Big Stonch) along to try to introduce him to real ale. He is normally an addict of unmentionable Australian lagers, along with burgers, chips and kebabs and is presently being victimised by Conservative Party propaganda, so it was no mean task I had undertaken.
As we went up the stairs, however, the glorious smell assailed our nostrils and aroused his jaded taste-buds. We lingered on the stairhead, feigning interest in the memorabilia (see pic) while we savoured the moment.
"What's that they're brewing?" he asked as we entered and the barmaid told us it was Westoe IPA. "I'll have a crack at that" said he, without any urging. Since he has recently changed his "career" and is once more a student, I was paying, so I ordered up two pints.
"It's not bad, that" sez he, seriously bending the elbow at the bar as we made short work of the first pint. "What're we having next?"
I suggested we try the Rivet Catcher and he was even more impressed. He liked the bitterness of the brew and I told him that it was the type and strength of the hops which made it that way.
After a pint of Caulker, he was fast becoming a true convert and expressed the opinion that he wouldn't mind going to one of these CAMRA Beer Festivals, next time it was in town.
"Yeah" I thought "I'll bring my wallet".
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2 comments:
A true convert indeed. When a dad buys a drink there is nothing like it. But buying your dad a drink comes close too.
Now that my second son, Stonch, is managing a pub, I look forward to him "buying" me MANY drinks when I go to see him in London!
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