Back to judging

Nature's alarm clock isn't working. It's still dark when I rise at 7:30. Just as well I woke up without it.

Downstairs, I sit with Martyn. And have my classic Brazilian breakfast of scrambled egg and cheese. Except I don't have time for fruit. Most importantly, I have two cups of coffee. 

A breakfast of scrambled egg, cheese, coffee and orange juice.

No bus to catch this time. Judging is in a conference room in the hotel. Which is perfect. No pissing around getting bussed around backwards and forwards. And you can always nip back to your room. Or disappear when they’re press-ganging judges for Best of Show.

Turns out I'm table captain, for a change. I’ve not done that for a while. It should be fun as Gabi Demozzi is on my table. She's always a good laugh. She was in Bahia and Balneário Camboriú, but I haven’t judged with her before.

It only seems a couple of weeks since I last judged. Hang on a minute, it is. About three weeks, to be exact.

People sitting in a room doing judging type things.

Our table starts with eight samples of Juicy or Hazy Pale Ale. A couple of really weird examples: one tastes of toothpaste, another of onion and garlic.

Next come four American-Style India Pale Ales. Another mixed bag, some having weird hop flavours.

The pale and hazy theme continues with 13 samples of Juicy or Hazy India Pale Ale. This is going to be fun.

We break for lunch halfway through the Hazy IPAs. Thankfully. As I’m feeling all hopped out. Lunch is just over the road at Honesto Mike. A sort of American bar.

Our party is sitting at a large table upstairs. We're at one end, as we arrive quite late. I'm with Martyn and Uwe. Our food takes forever to arrive. Most of the others have left before we even get our meals plonked in front of us.

They’re burgers. One with avocado and a fried egg for me. Didn't notice the avocado when I ordered. I’m hungry enough to eat it, anyway. I have a couple of pisco sours to wash it down.

I’m so glad when we’ve finished the Hazy IPAs. They’re really hard work. All that fucking dankness. Way too many oniony hops over the three sets of Pale Ales. Some Izal, too. Can’t stand that.

All the afternoon flights are pretty small. Starting with single examples of Baltic-Style Porter and Specialty Honey Beer.

We finish with five samples of home brew beers, all different styles. We advance one of the five. Not sure why I’m telling you this. Other than for the sake of completeness. And to give you an idea of the pure hell of judging.

By the time we're done, it's 18:15. Which leaves me about an hour to chill in my room. And that’s what I do. Just me, a laptop and a bottle of whisky. Everything I need for a good time. I pour myself a double and fire up Mock the Week.

"Do you want to come with me in my car to Tamango?" Chris messages me.

"Yes, please." I’m a lazy git. As I’ll keep reminding you.

The brewpub Tamango is where the judges are meeting tonight. It isn’t that far from the hotel. Just about a mile. I don't think Chris takes the most direct route. Given how long it takes us to get there. I don’t care as long as I don’t have to walk.

It’s a very modern sort of place. Where we get a free beer on arrival. My favourite style of beer. A Grand Prix IPA for me. Which is quite nice. (Still top-notch tasting notes from me, eh?)

Time for some food. I order croquettes. Very good, they are. Up to the standard of those in Colarinho in Rio. Though these aren’t cod. Later the owner brings us some prawns. Dead yummy, loaded with garlic. Which goes much better in prawns than in beer.

Five croquettes on a plate.

"I've heard you like gin. Would you like to try ours?" The owner asks.

What I might (not really) say: "Oh no, I’d better not. I don't want to drink too much."

What the voice in my head is saying: "YEEESSS. Pour the whole bottle straight down my throat."

What I actually say: "Maybe I could try a small one."

The gin is also rather nice. Spot on for a London dry gin.

I’m sitting with Gabi, Andreas, Martyn, Uwe and Chris. An entertaining bunch. We chat about a whole range of things. As we chew on our food. Things are going really well. Gin, croquettes, prawns and a little bit of love. Of those three, the gin is the best, to be honest.

I get myself another Grand Prix. I quite like it. And it washes down the gin rather well.

Chris gives me a lift back to the hotel. Lazy old git that I am. Where my old chum Tomatin accompanies me to the land of nod.




El Honesto Mike - Vitacura
Nivel -1A,
Av Vitacura 4607,
Local 22,
Vitacura,
Región Metropolitana.


Tamango Bar Restaurant
Juan Bautista Pastene 3101,
7630265 Vitacura,
Región Metropolitana.
http://www.tamango.cl/bars



Disclaimer: a fee, my hotel and some meals were paid the Chile Independent Beer Week.