An artisanally crafted blog curated by Cooking Lager for discerning readers of beer bloggery

Monday, 28 December 2009

2010


I did promise that I was done for 2009, and can only apologise for feeling the urge to blog again before the decade is out. The lull between Christmas and New Year, the fact that the lady squeeze has dragged me round the sales, and the need for a quiet half hour away from the Christmas telly prompted me to turn the computer on and check out the beer blogosphere.

One of the joys of being a beer enthusiast and beer geek, for that is what I now am being a beer blogger and all, is that this year I got some beer related presents off Santa Claus. Now I have a hobby (normal people like to drink grog, but us beer enthusiasts get to pretend it’s a real hobby and stuff) relatives and the like had an idea what to get me beyond jumpers and socks. Some of this was, as you’d expect, better and some of it wasn’t

On the positive I got some actual beer. Not cooking lager but 2 boxes of what looks like pongy ale from a brewery in Scotland. Now that’s the sort of gift I like. Beer. Something I can neck. I like all beer, even pongy ale. I can neck that quiet easily, thank you very much. It’s not cooking lager, it’s pricier than cooking lager so something I don’t really neck that often, so I am quiet looking forward to it. The Red McGregor has gone straight in the fridge and the 8.5% skull splitter looks like a nice drop of tramps piss that will hit the spot. I also got some beer gift sets with pint pots in them. Looking good.

I shall not be blogging about the pongy ale, I will neck it in front of the telly whilst scratching my balls and not commenting at all on it’s rich flavour and hoppy aroma, because at the end of the day whilst I’m sure it’s nice beer it is at the end of the day only beer and I’ve no more interest in telling you what I think of it as hearing what you think of it. I might even belch whilst swigging it. I shan’t be matching it with any food other than what happens to be for dinner that evening.

Other presents were less good. As you can see someone got be a copy of Pete Browns latest beer book. Despite his assurances that it was all sold out, there must be copies out there, and I managed to receive one of the rare unsigned ones. That must add to its value on EBay for sure. Why anyone would want to read a book about beer is beyond me, in the same way as anyone would want to write one and I cannot help but wonder why not just buy me some beer? As a bona fide beer enthusiast I like necking beer. I don’t want to read about it nor watch telly programmes with Oz Clarke and some other tosspot about other people necking beer. I just want to neck it.

At least on Christmas day I got to neck a skin full of grog. We were at the lady squeezes parents for the day and a fun day it was too of getting half cut on someone else’s grog. Plenty of nice wine, the odd glass of sherry, a snowball or two and a good go at my future father in laws malt whisky. Top stuff. I quiet like Christmas. I liked her dotty old aunties as much as my own and when its not your own direct family you are less embarrassed about the reactionary racism of the daily mail reading old aunty and simply amused by it. The grog helps. As do the turkey sandwiches and pork pies with egg in them. I like turkey sandwiches, more so than turkey dinners, and have never understand why people moan about a turkey buttie. I can also share with you my rather evolutionary idea for buffet related food. Whilst eating a slice of pork pie with egg, I pondered creating a scotch egg with a pork pie inside it. If you see it on the shelves this time next Christmas, buy one and think to yourself “cooking lager invented that” How you make one these I don’t know, but that is details. I am an ideas man.

A nice touch too was that for the first time, the in laws didn’t put the lady squeeze and I in separate rooms. My parents never had a problem with the lass and I sharing a room, we are after all shacked up together, but for the in-laws the lack of a wedding ring was an issue. This year however, the same room and even a comment to my lady from her father that “at least it will save you the bother of sneaking in his room when you think we are asleep” A further sign that the dislike of me among my future in laws is reducing. An unfortunate side effect of this was that I got invited to play golf at some unspecified future date with the old fella, and despite declaring that “I’m not that into golf”, I cannot see a way out of it. The lass thinks it’s a good idea because we will bond. I don’t want to bond any more than I want to spend an afternoon playing golf. Golf is for tossers. I’d rather spend the afternoon in front of the telly with a beer in my hand. I’d rather do that than pretty much anything else in the world barring being dragged under the duvet by my beloved. I don’t have complicated wants in life. My needs are simple and my happiness uncomplicated. A bird and a beer. Here’s hoping that in 2010 I get more of that and less of everything else. Have a great 2010

5 comments:

Pete Brown said...

Beer books certainly are a problem. But if you compare Hops and Glory to the other two you'll see it's thicker and has harder wearing, hardback covers. This makes it a much more effective sofa propper-upper than paperback books, as it's less likely to sag over time.

It will also work quite well as a doorstop.

To clarify: the book is sold out from my publishers and on Amazon, but we reckon there are about 500 copies still in commercial circulation. Anyone else seeking a handy (if expensive) household weight might find it in CAMRA's bookshop or other internet sites such as play.com, or even proper bookshops.

As for why write a book about beer: Cookie, I can't remember the last time I had to pay for my pongy ale - I've been given so much I'm having to give it away to my mates. That's one good reason.

Cooking Lager said...

Am I one of your mates? Fancy giving some of it to me?

B-Dang said...

i dont think shit talking the dude about why he wrote the book is gonna score ya any free brew.

Ken Davidson said...

Cookie, you need to nip this golf thing in the bud - sharpish. Take it from me, it's far better to be firm upfront, ahem, and spell it out that you don't like the 'sport' and would rather poke your own nads out with a cheese knife. If you don't you'll end up hating the old 'un instead of merely disliking him.

Pigman said...

Golf courses are just motorcross tracks in waiting. A game where you pay to play and the object is to hot the ball the least is a stupid pursuit. Hardly good value.