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

Friday, 26 February 2010

Being arsed

I haven't blogged in a while, To be honest I couldn't be arsed. I saw this and thought I'd share it. I thought it mirrored the UK's grotty declining pub industry.

Part of the reason I've not been blogging is I read this, and have been investigating the legality of eating taboo foods. Why on earth would I do that? It's the kind of thing you do when google is in front of you and you can't be arsed doing what you are supposed to be doing.

Will be drinking some lout this weekend, so you can expect some lovely lout to be reviewed as soon as. Enjoy the weekend.

Monday, 22 February 2010

Another tedious gimmick

The results are in. The discerning readers of this load of old toss have named Brewdogs next beer/marketing gimmick. A resounding 50% of people chose “Another Tedious Gimmick”. References to anal rape and paedophilia were obviously judged not quite controversial enough and bugger all people decided to have a go at the Germans figuring presumably that it’s a nice country with nice people and it’s just not on to keep mentioning the war.

I put the results to Brewdog James and asked him about the new beer.

“Who gives a toss about the beer?” replied James. “I can’t be arsed brewing anything this week so what I was planning to do was bottle my own piss and charge 40 quid a bottle to the mugs that will drink anything. My own piss has enough hops and alcohol in it to pass muster and when I measured it, it came out a nice blond fruity ale with a record breaking abv and better than the nasty undrinkable crap I usually knock up. I think I’ve hit the nail on the head by passing it through myself before I bottle it. I call it human filtration and its better than either pasteurisation or cold filtration and is the technology I’ve been looking for. There are enough halfwit beer enthusiasts out there that will buy any old crap so long as it is new and innovative regardless of whether it’s drinkable so I’m going to see how long I can get away with bottling my own piss and giving it stupid controversial names that generate more publicity than I could afford to buy. I’ve already got advance orders from the likes Clarkey and Dredgie and a whole list of stupid mugs that gave me 200 sheets a piece for shares that were worth ten bob, so I need to go piss in some bottles now to fulfil the orders, so bugger off”

So there you have it. Miss it, miss out. Get down to brewdog sharpish and be the first to review “Another tedious gimmick”. It doesn’t really matter what it tastes like or how much it costs. It’s new, it’s different, it’s innovative and it breaks some sort of world record for being really strong. Probably strong enough to give you instant liver failure and send you blind. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is being the first to drink the nasty piss.

Thursday, 18 February 2010

AS Live FABPOW! Rustlers & Beck’s

AS Live FABPOW! Rustlers & Beck’s

20.08: I believe in the new media circles this is what is known as a mash-up: it’s an As-Live Tasting meets a FABPOW. Yeh get with it daddio’s, it’s bitchin’

20.12: First of all you are all probably thinking the same thing: why the hell is he drinking lout? Especially during a Food and Beer Pairing of the Week? Well, this lout was cheap therefore it’s good enough for me. Plus, this particular lout is 5% so that’s doubly okay. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.15: I put the Rustlers burger in the microwave. 0 to tasty in 60 seconds. The microwave goes ping and I take it out and put ketchup on it. Perfect. The ketchup makes a great topping (although, to be honest, can you really beat ketchup?!). FABPOW, bitchin'

20.18: Writing is distracting me from eating. I can see why I’ve never done an As-Live FABPOW before, logistically it’s awkward. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.21: On to the lout. Its Beck’s 5%, It pours an electrifying golden colour with those fast-paced bubbles that hurry to the top. It’s not one of those pints of pongy ale that smells like horse shit and comes with a few stray pieces of straw in the pint glass, this is one of those crisp clean louts and, thankfully, fizzy. It’s clean and crisp, I want to say it’s bitter but then I remember its lout, so that dryness I taste is from the lout, and it manages to retain a certain loutish character, which is nice. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.25: The burger is gobbled down. It worked a treat with the lout; matching up perfectly. FABPOW! FABPOW, bitchin'

20.28: You know what I’ve always wanted someone to brew for me? A free box of lout that costs me nowt. I want that beer with a huge stack of free hamburgers. The trouble is no one will give me any free lout, dammit. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.30: I just spilt some lout on my chin. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.31: Oh yeah, I’m doing this a day early because if I did it tomorrow and posted it at 9pm then it’s too late, of course. And you could nuke this burger anytime, that’d be great. I only used lout because cheap lout is all I ever buy. Ta-da. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.36: I like a drop of lout. My drinking days began with lout and will end with lout (killer stuff). A few years later it was always the first and last drink I chose at anywhere I was and I’ve had some dodgy old pints of pongy ale over the last few years. Perhaps the most memorable (or not...) experience was a nice bottle of lout I once drank on a beach. After that there was some dancing. Ooof. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.42: Being distracted by the terrible TV that the squeeze is watching... FABPOW, bitchin'

20.45: Having inappropriate sexual thoughts about a female character in a soap opera. No it’s not Peggy Mitchell. And I’ve just realised that I haven’t done an As-Live Tasting for AGES! FABPOW, bitchin'

20.49: Musing about how great MSG is, how all the great chefs are discovering Umani, how basically it’s just glutamate and how popular MSG is in Asia, how demonised it is in the west, how foods now advertise MSG free, and how Rustlers is a great source of MSG, and if you don’t like MSG you really really ought to read this here. It may be from the guardian, but don’t let that put you off. FABPOW, bitchin'

20.53: That’s me done with an As-Live FABPOW Mash-up. Time to see if the squeeze fancies popping up stairs. FABPOW bitching dudes. FABPOW, bitchin'

Inspired by the beer writer of the century, Dredgie, Cheers Fella. FABPOW, bitchin'

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

The people have spoken!

The poll is in. The question was “Ought Beer Festivals stock a nice keg of ice cold fizzy lout?” An astonishing 37 people bothered to take part and if that’s not conclusive I don’t know what is.

Out of 37 people (37 people actually bother to read this tosh?, has the internet run out of Abi Titmuss videos?) 43%, or 16 voted a resounding YES agreeing the lout is a traditional beer style in its own right. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. Considering that 72% of people with nothing better to do than read crap on the internet are pongy ale drinkers, see here, that means pong lovers want to see the lout on.

Half that sum 21% or 8 people voted that only "proper" lager defined by what beardies like and what they don't ought be at the geekery events. Fence sitters maybe, but at least they want to see some form of lager to break the tedium of endless scoops of pong.

A pitfull few 13 people or 35% voted No way AT ALL, EVER, lager is for puffs. So there you have it. Tandy and Clarkey take note. We expect to find some lout on at whatever festival you’ve got coming up.

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Tickety tick

This weekend I decided to become a lout ticker, and the following is the start of my list. Beer tickers are the train spotters of beer appreciation and this weekend I decided to keep a list and tasting notes on the finest pints of lout known to humanity so as to join the band of brothers.

In part I have been inspired by the following load of nonsense I discovered and thought to myself, I’ll give that a go. Now I could make the effort of seeing this film before having a go at it but wasting hours of my life watching this load of old toss appears about as appealing as self circumcision. Probably more fun than reading a book about beer but only due to the fact that it ends sooner. So no I’ve not watched it and don’t intend to. But why bother? I doubt through watching it I’ll learn something new, so my time is better spent on more productive endeavour. If you want a review why not read this.

The rules of lout ticking are that you have to keep a list of the entire lout you’ve drank alongside tasting notes. Unlike beer ticking, lout ticking is not about having the longest list but having the most eloquent and succinct beer descriptions. The uniformity of mine gives it a resonance and reason beyond the literal interpretation of the words and elevates it to a higher art. That makes my list nicer than most shabby notebooks. The rules of lout ticking are based on beer ticking, but altogether nicer, ensuring you do not have to be weirdo to take part.

Also unlike beer ticking, lout tickers are allowed to have normal lives. We are allowed to dress nice, shave and wash regularly and have a girl friend and a sex life. This alone ought to make lout ticking a more attractive subset of the beer ticking fraternity. There is also a nice social side to it. Lout ticking can be a new and interesting way to make new friends. Now I’m not overly inclined to make new friends, but when a midget in a clown costume speaks to you to ask “what in crying out loud are you up to” I’m polite enough to give him the time of day. It’s not every day a bona fide midget in a clown costume (children’s entertainer, it turned out, having a pint before a gig) strikes a conversation up with you. Upon explaining the game of lout ticking he proffered the view that it was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard of but did himself admit to being a lout enthusiast and steering clear of pongy ale. There are brothers in lout everywhere in the world.

The important thing about lout ticking is that any lout is allowed to be on the list, so long as it is lout. NO none lout can be ticked. The beer has to be a pasteurised lager beer from a bottle, keg or can served under extraneous C02.

Get ticking!

Friday, 12 February 2010

The most retarded lottery syndicate in the world

This has sod all to do with beer. It’s about people. This afternoon I was invited to join a lottery syndicate by my work colleagues. What has to be the single most retarded lottery syndicate on the face of this earth. Lotteries by large are for idiots. I know the idea that somebody wins it but when you look at the odds then actually no it’s not going to be you. You have a greater chance of being knocked over by a bus than winning the lottery. That’s even if you never left the house because a bus just might pile through your living room, even if your road isn’t on a bus route. You never know.

Buying lottery tickets is a mugs game. But that was not the reason why this syndicate was retarded. The purpose of a syndicate is to pool tickets to increase your slim chances of winning by accepting a smaller share of the jackpot. There is a certain logic to it even if the chances of winning still remain pitifully poor.

This syndicate was started by 2 people looking for a third person to buy 1 ticket for the euro millions lottery. Making 3 people paying 50p each for a £1.50 ticket. I declined to be the third. When I explained that it was the single most retarded idea I’d heard that day, they seemed a little put out so I explained to them that there was little point in sacrificing a third of the winnings for no other reason than to reduce my stake from a nominal sum of £1.50 to 50p. The full stake isn’t onerous and if I thought I stood a chance I’d buy a whole ticket for myself thank you very much. That if I wanted to reduce the bet it would be an acceptance that the chances were slim which would more logically result in not playing than simply seeking to lose less money. That a logical syndicate would be to buy 3 tickets. That every member put in £1.50 and then the number of tickets bought are equal to the number of members with any winnings pooled. That way I’d be increasing my chances of winning a smaller jackpot. They looked blankly at me and went off looking for a third person willing to give them 50p.

That is people for you. That’s why this weekend I won’t be socialising with people. That’s why you don’t need people. That’s why all you need in life is a fridge full of lout and a compliant playmate with nice tits that’s kind enough to let you have a go on them. That’s my weekend. Playing with the lady squeeze and drinking lout. I cannot wait.

UPDATE : They found a third person and went off to buy a ticket. Euro millions has gone up to £2 apparently. They returned to the office looking for a fourth mug. I got asked again. "Are you sure, you'll be sorry on Monday when we're all millionaires" I resorted to a profanity. I'm not proud of that. It wasn't even an original piece of work. I'd got it from the Malcolm Tucker character in the sitcom "The Thick of It". Suffice to say they won't be asking me again if the price goes up to £2.50 in the next half hour.

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Campaign !

A bit of Cooking Lager campaigning today and an invite to all cooking lager enthusiasts to join the campaign for greater cooking lager appreciation. It is fairly undeniable that at many beer festivals around the country there is a distinct absence of high quality refreshing ice cold lout, and it was one of the many reasons for my absence at NWAF. That and the fact that I had a fridge full of lout so couldn’t be bothered getting on a train to go somewhere that didn’t have it.

Thus I’ve written an open letter to the CAMRA lot that organised the festival querying the lack of lout, emailing as the editor of the CAMRA magazine. I encourage you to do the same. Please keep it polite, more is achieved that way. If you know of a beer festival that has no lout, please let me know and I’ll draft a polite request to them.

Dear More Beer Letters Page,

I have become an avid reader of your magazine from the web, since discovering a link on the blog of your Chairman Peter Alexander. I wish to take up the issue of the lack of delicious ice cold fizzy lout at the recent NWAF beer festival. Is it beyond the wit of man to stock a nice keg of Foster’s? Without the lout I fear your festival will only ever appeal to a minority of beer enthusiasts and not the 76% of the drinking population that love the lout and make up the largest portion of beer drank in the UK.


Cooking Lager

Together we can encourage greater cooking lager appreciation across the nation.

On another point, beer bloggers, if you have a beer blog please put a follow button on it. It’s a piss easy way for bone idle people like me to see your latest nonsense on the dashboard.

EDIT to politely express your desire for a keg of cooking lager at next years NWAF. Please be polite, no spam, any campaign that engages in rudeness does not deserve success. Thank you Tandy for your correction.

Monday, 8 February 2010

Cooking Lager History

I’ve never been one for sport either playing or watching, but sport offers a useful excuse when faced with a weekend of shopping and visiting people you really cannot be arsed with. Sport all too often tends to be a team game which is great if you need an outlet for your latent homosexuality, but to the rest of us appears a strange obsession. I quite like going to the gym to lift weights, but things that involve being part of a team are not really my bag.

This weekend saw the start of the 6 nations. A Northern Hemisphere international rugby tournament that the beeb have been good enough to put on the telly. Now I’m not that into rugby. Being a working class lad the sport of Rugby has always struck me as a bit of a posh boy’s game. Soccer or football to give it its proper name is more my game. But only more my game in so far as I understand the rules. I’m not that into it, I haven’t a team I follow. I gather my working class credentials would not be harmed by an interest in Rugby League but what is important about these sports is that however tedious they are they beat a trip round the shops. If you listen to the commentary you can often figure enough about the rules and jargon to give the appearance of knowing something about it.

Hence my earnest claim to love the game of rugby and consider watching it to be vital. This outrageous lie allows me to sit on the couch all afternoon and neck a few louts. Glorious. Come on England!

Also this Sunday saw the American superbowl game on late at night and guess what? Yup I claimed it a vital game to watch and cracked open the lout. Now I do know a bit about the rules of this game. I once shared a house with 2 American girls who insisted on watching this, and as it involved staying up late and drinking beer I thought it culturally important to join them. I remember them getting some beers in and offering to share them with me whilst they explained the strange rules of the game. The beers they got in were Budweiser and a drink called Boston Beer, which was a dark nitro widget beer that Elliot Gould was advertising on the telly at the time. It’s since disappeared from the UK. It was a lot like Caffrey’s. Since then I’ve always made an effort to watch the superbowl and get some Bud’s in to watch it. Even if it wasn’t on special offer. I like the commentary and strange phrases like “fourth down”

In my efforts to buy some Bud I was distracted. Distracted by what appeared to be a French lager at 8 bottles for £3. But who can say they haven’t been distracted by a French floozy when on the lookout for some no nonsense American wholesomeness? The bud will have to wait. This beer seemed to me to not only be a lovely drop of cheap grog but sum up a piece of cooking lager history.

Cooking lager enthusiasm hasn’t always been easy. Back in the day supermarkets flogged grog at premium prices. Then the British consumer noticed they could bugger off to France and load up with Stella Artois for a fraction of the premium price it was sold at in England. Knee high to a grasshopper I joined the hoards with a ticket given out from a tabloid newspaper to fill a mate’s car up with cheap lout and return. Whilst having lunch in a bistro a French guy asked us why the English buy so much Stella, as it wasn’t as nice as other beers at the mammoth hypermarket. Oh how beers are marketed differently in the world. What deceit is rained upon us mere customers? I have none of it, by going cheap.

Here all grog was cheap and premium lager did not appear part of the consumer mindset. In the hypermarket I stocked up on Stella but got a few boxes of 33 export that the French guy recommended and a couple of boxes of the cheap own brand 5% lout at half the price of the already cheap Stella. After the successful raid on the French we returned to Blighty to discover that as gorgeous as the Stella was, the other cheap louts were just as nice. Before long British supermarkets had cottoned on to the pulling power of cheap lout and the philosophy of cooking lager enthusiasm was born. It was possible to neck as much delicious and refreshing lout as you could drink and pay only buttons for the privilege. A lifelong hobby, love and interest was born that engages the heart of millions of Brits. There in the Hypermarkets of France was born the hobby that stands at the pinnacle of beer enthusiasm, not a desire to seek out nasty undrinkable high IBU beer, but a desire to buy lots and lots of cheap lout for next to nothing and neck the lot.

But is this a French floozy? RateBeer has it brewed by Lindenbrauerei Unna, BeerPal has it amusingly brewed by Meantime London? Who really cares? It is a little 25cl stubby of cheap lout with a French name. That’s French enough for me.

The French lager St Cervois represents all this deep history of cooking lager enthusiasm in every little 25cl bottle. Without beers like this I doubt there would be cooking lager aficionados gracing the beer world. This 4.8% crisp drop of heaven is all cooking lager is truly about. Necking cheap grog and belching. £3 for 8 at Sainsbury’s. To drink it is to drink the whole history of cheap lout appreciation, and become part of that history.

One day cooking lager enthusiasm will go full circle. The supermarkets will be prevented from selling me cheap grog, and cooking lager enthusiasm will return to its roots at the Hypermarkets of Calais. Until then I raise my glass in toast to our French cousins and their fine lout in thanks and appreciation.

As for the scores of any of these games I watched. Who cares? Though I did get the urge to try Bud Light Golden Wheat. I got to neck grog and not move from my lovely couch. It really ought to be on every week.

Sunday, 7 February 2010

The Sermon on the Lout

On a Sunday morning you might very well ask what I am doing checking out the beer blogs, instead of lets say attending church or rattling the lady squeeze and without being unnecessarily crude the squeeze is on the rag, so the Sunday lie in and rollabout under the duvet was not on the cards this week. I appreciate you are not interested in the menstrual cycle of my good lady so no more will be said on the matter.

I’ve just returned from church in what appears to me to be an admirable (on my part)) act of hypocrisy. How this affects the Sunday lie in going forward I have yet to discover but I’m hoping it’s occasional and not an every Sunday thing. In order to be married in a church she’s decided that we are both to start attending it. My agnostic religious beliefs are based firmly in bone idleness and apathy. I accept others have an opinion either way on matters of faith but I neither know nor care and don’t intend on starting. I’m going along with something to make someone else happy and in all honesty the opinion I have formed is that religion is fairly boring. I have no problem with the wide diversity of human nature and belief, and am a live and let live kind of guy. I am uncertain what life guidance an elderly repressed homosexual can offer me and the squeeze based on an old book of dubious translation and authenticity, though the singsongs are not too bad. Jerusalem is a good number.

But back to the beer, last night I was drinking a copious amount of ice cold refreshing and delicious Carlsberg Export. An all malt lager beer brewed in Northampton and variously referred to by beer writers as “chemical” or “inauthentic” or even “piss”. This beer is a delicious example of a pilsner style lager brewed with quality ingredients. The ingredients are on the label.

Recently I was reading Protzy's blog and noticed the scorn in regard to mass market large scale production-based lager beers. His scorn was based on the existence of maize in the recipe for Stella Artois. Now my perspective is this. There is just as much human history of fermenting maize, as there is barley malt. Fermented maize was an important part of the religious rituals of the ancient Inca tribes. Rituals that appear from what I’ve read to be more interesting than the Sunday morning I’ve just suffered. There is nothing wrong with fermenting maize. Looking at other adjuncts like rice, we can find plenty of evidence of rice based alcoholic beverages fermented in ancient china. Sake, or rice wine, being the obvious example.

I then got to wondering, is there an acceptable set of ingredients that beer can and cannot contain? Is Protzy’s view based on reason or faith in regard to the beer bible? Despite not being a CAMRA member I read the recent beer magazine (I didn’t pay for it, I read someone else’s, freeloading as you expect) and discovered Protzy extolling the virtues of Scottish ale brewed with a number of unconventional ingredients. You can take the view that it is to create interesting flavours or reduce expensive conventional ingredients with cheaper domestic produce.

Is there a difference in adding flavours like bog myrtle and seaweed in one beer, and adding maize and rice? Is it about tradition or innovation and is one better than the other? If you have a style of beer like Pilsner Lager, which is delicious and understandably the most popular beer style in the world, you would expect it to be brewed everywhere in the world. You would expect to find a pilsner style beer brewed in America to Japan, and everywhere in-between. You would expect them to look at the ingredients and see whether it was possible to brew it using a proportion of local grains alongside the barley malt. Customers compare both price and quality, and you would expect brewers to consider cost whilst maintaining an acceptable quality. So the world contains no shortage of Pilsner style beers brewed with numerous recipes and all of which Protzy and co would consider inferior and inauthentic. This is clearly hypocrisy. There I no defined recipe for anything, and if it’s okay to experiment with bog myrtle it’s fine to brew a beer with rice. But as I discovered this morning we are all hypocrites if there is a convenience in it, and we are free or otherwise in how we take the sermon that is given us. We take it or leave it, and when it comes to Protzy I remain both a blasphemer and heretic.

You would expect this hypocrisy to be backed up by way of a greater purity in the pongy ales in comparison to the cooking lagers. Well I’ve been looking around. Of those mass market lagers the following have their ingredients clearly on the can or bottle. Carlsberg, Carlsberg Export, Heineken, Stella Artois 5% & 4%, Beck’s 5% & Vier, Grolsch. Not one single ale either in cans or bottles in the supermarket had the ingredients displayed. Cop outs like “contains barley”, for sure, but the only ale I am aware of that informs me of what is in it is Sam Smith’s Old Brewery Bitter. On the beer mat, in a Smiths pub, you can read the beer is water, barley malt, hops and yeast.

It appears that if I wish to drink pure beer, where I know what’s in it, I would drink lout and steer clear of the pongy ales. If I am concerned about what I drink then I would drink something that is unambiguous in regard to its contents.

With my faith confirmed, I shall have a bottle of Beck’s with the Sunday roast I am preparing. A mass-produced consistent quality beer that does not hide its ingredients. Whether deciding on the basis of reason or faith, cooking lager is the discerning choice of the informed.

Friday, 5 February 2010

Who has the best blog?

Who has the best blog? Why blog about beer when you can blog about blogging? Or even blog about blogs that blog about blogging? Two competing leagues appear to have cropped up in the beer blogosphere and as you might expect it all strikes me as being a bit of a “who has the biggest cock” competition with the only question really being answered being “who is the biggest cock”

Pete looks at the wikio rankings here with the zythophile having another league table here (thank you Tyson). Are there more than two? I’d love to know.

But what does it all mean? Is it relevant?

I understand the purpose of a football league. In a sport, the purpose of which is to win at a given game, there is a question to be asked. Who is the best team this season? Hence measuring performance on the basis of a given criteria, awarding points for wins and draws, you build a picture. At the end of the season the best team is at number one. A question both codes of rugby fail to answer by turning their leagues into a cup competition with a play off as the season closes.

Are we asking that question? Who has the best blog? If so why? My view of who has the best blog is based on who I enjoy reading. I won’t say but if I comment on your blog a lot, even to disagree or post stupid comments, you can assume I like it. I would not criticise any of the blogs as I enjoy them all, but there are ones I enjoy more than others. That view will be different from others. How would we measure that?

If popularity is the measure we are using to assess this, then by the same logic the Sun is the best newspaper in the land and Stella & Carling the best beers. That suits me. I like a can of lout and enjoy reading what today’s page 3 girl thinks of the days current events. But actually I think the FT is the best newspaper as it’s the only UK newspaper. All others are opinion and/or entertainment related to news that is already a day old.

As for little old me getting a mention in one of the leagues, I am wondering where the line is? I guess I’m playing whether I want to or not so do I need a top four finish in order to play in Europe?

Alternatively we could just ignore all this nonsense as the irrelevance it is and continue necking beer and writing about it on the assumption and slight arrogance that there might even be others interested in what we think, but even if there aren’t you’ve amused or satisfied yourself in the process?

Nar, I thought not. So who has the best blog? Only one way to find out. As Harry Hill says, FIGHT!

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

An open letter to Frank Dobson MP regarding his comments on drinkers

Dear Frank Dobson

I could not be arsed listening to you speak on Decision Time, Radio 4, broadcast on 27th January, as it’s not really my cup of tea but I gathered second hand what you were droning on about in your typical tedious retarded manner.

You’ve just claimed – and I might even be quoting your words exactly here, you never know, – that "heavy drinkers cause a vast amount of disorder, get involved in sexual assaults, get involved in accidents and are a major nuisance with loutish behaviour."

As a heavy binge drinker myself, I find your comments astonishingly offensive. You are saying like it's a bad thing? It is my free right as an Englishman to get as pissed up as a like, fight with whom I like and piss and vomit wherever I so choose. People fought wars to give me this freedom god dammit.

I do this because I enjoy it and would do it regardless of whether I was pissed up or not. You are wilfully confusing correlation with causation.

On behalf of myself and the vast majority of drinkers who consume a legal drug that enhances my existing anti social nature, I demand an apology from you for this appalling slur on our characters, and suggest you check the facts before you open your mouth on this topic again.

As a beer writer, albeit a half arsed parody of one, I’ll be copying this email in various channels and urging my pitifully few, apathetic, disrespectable readers to make their feelings known to you in a similar fashion.

Go piss up a rope fuckstick.

Cooking Lager

Write to Frank at -
Frank Dobson MP
House of Commons
London SW1A 0AA

Ring Frank on -
020 7219 4452 or 020 7219 5840

Fax Frank on -
020 7219 6956

Email Frank on

Inspired by Pete Brown

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

Mr Whippy

Still polishing off the Xmas grog (including in this case stuff you buy for guests rather than yourself) and decided it was time to finish off the remaining cooking bitter. What bizarre foam? At one point I took a gulp and the foam and beer separated leaving a space before the foam fell gently back on top of the beer. After a few cans I got a real Mr Whippy effect. Really odd stuff. It was the last of the Boddies widget bitter. Will be sticking to regular carbonated keg beer in future, not sure about this widget foam. A chemical concoction too far. Gave every appearance of being too much like washing up liquid and too little like proper beer foam. Now I’m all for a bit of science, technology and innovation and consider beer to be an industrial product regardless of the scale it is brewed at. I like and value consistency and am more interested in necking a nice drink than discovering new nasty flavours to make me wince and then pretend its brewing artful craft beers and not just piss poor hygiene standards. But I think I can do without this odd foam.

The beer wasn’t that bad. Not much to say about it, a neckable easy going grog that’s piss weak enough to require a skinfull before you feel it. I’d have preferred it without the Mr Whippy effect.