Just had a discussion with Alexei about the countries with the highest tea consumption. Very different to a beer consumption chart. Other than Ireland. And the UK. He has this weird interest in numbers, Alexei. God knows where he gets it from.
My roti consumed, I'm up for some beer consumption of my own. Starting with another from Pampus.
Pampus Hoppy Stout 6.3% ABV
They're really going the full craft hog and sinker, Pampus, nose to squeek. Fuck me. I was about to go style Nazi ther and declare this more like a Black IPA. ("Dolores, can you fetch my hair shirt?") Mostly that grapefruity sort of thing going on in the aroma. Can I detect some roast? Or is that just the power of suggestion, this being a Stout? Iron and sweat weirdly come to mind. Not sure if that's really from the beer or just my crazy head. Bit of liquorice at the back end. The salty type no-one likes except in Holland and a couple of other weird countries. I quite like it. Especially the way it saves the Stoutiness until right at the end. I'll be finishing this one.
Knowing Dolores's opinion of grapefruit beer, I'll not risk offering her a sip.
Another Pampus beer next. The magic bag is a bit bare. The beer fairy hasn't been for a while. Where the hell is she?
Pampus/La Fucina Just a Beer 6.3% ABV
I guess it is a collab. The Just a Beer name must be a piss take. It's anything but just a beer, having a whole load of shit in it. As it says on the label: "Made with an unorthodox combination of ingredients . . ." I can smell the lemon grass from several places - say Rotterdam and Utrecht - though I was tipped off by the lime green "lemon grass" on the label. I get ginger, too. I won't read the label too closely. That would spoil the fun. Haven't Oedipus (an Amsterdam brewery that is kitted up) done a lemon grass beer? Tastes like a load of other spices. Could be worse. Pretty sure I can manage the whole bottle.* Won't be buying a second.
Andrew is off at his mate's. A sure sign the Pils has run out. And the Amstel Bok. He polished that off when we were in London. And all but one can of Dolores's cider. Even he wouldn't dare take her last can. Alexei doesn't drink and anyway is otherwise disposed with some shouting upstairs. No fucking way Dolores would put this one anywhere near her lips. So you'll have to make do with just my opinion.
* Dolores hates waste.
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