I've imposed a crazy schedule on myself this year. Mostly by not thinking things through.
My Macbeth thing started as a loose concept that turned horrifyingly solid before I realised what was going on. An excuse to troll around the US bullshitting about Scottish beer transformed into a book/tour/historic beer recreation monster.
Not that I'm really complaining. Clumsily as I may have stumbled into it, the result is dead pleasing. I've written the book I wanted to about Scottish beer. It's sitting there on my hard disk, plump and fecund. Just a few more superfluous recipes and it's done.
The truth about Scottish beer. How it was really brewed. No made up crap. Just facts and numbers. lots and lots of numbers.
It was so easy to throw together in just a couple of months. If you forget about the years of research. And the year I've spent writing recipes in the background. How the hell do you think I could have 350 recipes? They don't fall off trees.
Proud? I'm just kancked.
If I get my finger out with the remaining Drybrough keg recipes from the 1960's, the book should be avilable for purchase this weekend.