It's Tuesday. I had a busy weekend. A fish supper with mates on Friday. A talk for the Brettanomyces festival in Amsterdam on Saturday. While all of Sunday was spent investigating how I can acquire Dutch citizenship.
First up is the last of my Kees stash. This time a Pale Ale rather than an IPA. What exactly is the difference between and IPA and a Pale Ale again? I must look it up on the internet.
Brouwerij Kees Pale Ale Citra, 4.6% ABV
Citra's a dead trendy hop, isn't it? It's got a little of the disinfectant about it in the aroma. I seem to remember getting that last time I tried a Citra beer. Or I could just be talking out of my arse. Speaking of arses, I can't be arsed to look it up. Not so pleasant in the mouth. Horribly harshly bitter. Not nice at all. Let's see what Dolores thinks.
"Dolores, do you want to try my beer?"
"Not now, I'm in the toilet."
"When you come out, then."
"Bah. Horrible. Like disinfectant." I think she means that in a bad way.
I'm disappointed. The other Kees beers have been good. The rest of this one is off to rinse the sink. I think I may not like the flavour of Citra.
It's now Sunday. Been a very busy week. As they all seem to be nowadays. Andrew has just come downstairs. And it's only 12:30.
"Can I have 10 euros, Dad?"
I guess that's why he got up. At least he asked for less this time.
Gebrouwen Door Vrouwen Gin Weizen, 6% ABV
"Brewed by Women". Though according to RateBeer it's brewed at Lindeboom. Smells like wheat. Don't get any gin. Just read the label and it includes gin spices rather than actual gin. It tastes rather like a Belgian Witbier. It's pleasant enough. And doesn't taste like disinfectant, which is a definite plus.
"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores? It's brewed by women."
"It's brewed by women. Go on."
"Alright." Dolores quickly, and clearly against her will, takes a sip. "It's OK."
"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"
"You're becoming really bad value for money you know, Andrew."
"Do you want to try my beer, Lexie?"
"No thank you, Dad"
At least he's polite.
"Shall we hang out a flag to celebrate the lads' win yesterday, kids."
"I think your Mum threw away our DDR flag, Lexie"
"What about the flag of the Holy Roman Empire."
"Don't think we have one of those. What was it, anyway?"
"An eagle, I think, Dad."
"What about the Franconian flag? No-one would recognise that. I brought you one back once."