It’s been a while since anyone sent me some free beer, but I’ve still got some lovely Badger stuff to neck and blog about. That’s a hint, if anyone still reads this crap. I did think of reviewing Foster’s lager on a weekly basis. What is the point of drinking new beers when you have discovered one of the best?
I won some beer, though, by way of a bet and this grog will be making an appearance when I get round to necking it. It is pong too. Some of it says “CAMRA says this is real ale” on the bottle. Some of it doesn’t. Within the world of work, one from time to time makes the acquaintance of a fellow pisshead. A temporary contractor from Lincoln knocks around the office from time to time and we have been known to have a pint. This is despite his beard, elderly appearance, lack of trendy trainers and fondness for the variable pongy local grog that passes for “real ale” around this part of Oop North. I even took him into the local “craft” beer boozer a few weeks ago to give him the choice of numerous cask and world beers and be in an establishment where beards were the norm rather than unusual. That’s the kind of nice chap I am. I could have dragged him around the tatty pubs near work or his hotel for a skinful of Stella, but I didn’t. I took him on a bus to beer geek heaven. It’s the brotherhood of beer geekery, it transcends cooking lager or even pongy ale enthusiasm.
Now in such places one is faced with a choice of 20 beers of various hues of brown and unusual aroma that you have never heard of and Paulaner Weissbier or Warsteiner. You can guess what I would opt for, but in the company of a bearded mate you might be pleased to note I necked some of the shed brewed obscure pong and didn’t gag. One or two I quite liked, but I’m buggared if I remember which ones.
As can happen when one is boozing, there was a bit of banter including a mention of the respective attractiveness of female work colleagues. Nothing as crude as Andy Gray or Richard Keys for whilst we may be both unreconstructed sexist male chauvinists we are at least gentlemen and would not behave like that. Among the bantering came a bet. It wasn’t a bet regarding any female colleague but it was a bet in regard to the likely outcome of a work based event. My erstwhile colleague applied logic to the facts of the situation and made a reasonable and logical prediction. I declined to apply logic and instead applied human nature to the situation and predicted a different more chaotic outcome. He suggested a small bet to make it interesting. “Okay, but just for fun, I’m not betting my house or anything” came my reply. “Ten pints?” “Okay.” “Not Stella, Ten pints of your local beer versus ten pints of my local beer”. “How will I claim ten pints when I win, do I have to travel to Lincoln?” “Ten pint bottles, on my desk when I win”. A shake of the hand and one week later I was paid up in full with ten lovely bottles of a beer of Lincoln, from what appears to be a microbrewery. Poachers, the website here. A locally sourced taste of Lincolnshire. I’ve eaten Lincolnshire sausages and they were alright, so I fully expect the beer to be decent enough too. Expect full reviews of Lincoln micro brewed pong when I get round to it. I look forward to it. Lovely beer to throw down my neck that I didn’t pay for. That is as they say, living. If any blogger is aware of this grog, let me know what you think and what I can expect. Don’t bother telling me what food each bottle might go with, but I am always interested if you’ve necked it and have an opinion on the grog. Free grog, always happy to receive it, always happy when I do.