Still judging

I rise at 6:30 feeling much better than yesterday. After a solid eight hours of kip. It’s amazing what a good sleep can do. Just waking up is a positive at my age. You never know when it may not happen. I’m downstairs by 7:15.

I have my usual breakfast. Call me Mr. Boring. I don’t care. It’s what I want to eat. And I’ll fucking eat it. That’s the great thing about being old. Not really having to give a fuck what anyone thinks.

I’m sitting with Jose. The chat turns to yeast with the bloke on the next table who has a yeast company. I meet such interesting people at these things. And learn interesting stuff. In the Anglosphere, the discussion rarely turns to South American beer. A shame.

For me, it’s one of the most interesting regions of the beer world. Lots of very enthusiastic people trying out lots of stuff. Some of which works. Like Catherina Sour, which I think is a wonderful style. So drinkable. And so lovable.

Back over at Überbräu, I’m on the same judging table as yesterday, with Suzanne and Alan. I’m happy with that. We rattled through the flights yesterday. Coming to a consensus without much argument. Which saves much time. And annoyance. Especially annoyance. The last thing I need is extra stress.

In charge of beer service is Matteo. A livelily friendly young man. With whom I chatted a bit at the barbecue yesterday.

Lots of flights this morning. Fortunately, mostly very small flights.

We start with fruited wheat. Just two samples. Both pretty good.

Scotch Ale. One sample. Pretty nice. A perfect breakfast beer. 

American Pale Ale. Six samples. Loads of hops.

Session IPA Not the greatest flight. Lots of oxidation. One or two decent ones.

Dorada Pampeana. One Sample. A type of beer from Argentina. Lucky that we have an Argentinian on the table to explain it to us.

Dutch-style Koyt. One sample. Pretty decent.

German-style Rye Ale. One sample. Tastes right to me. Quite similar to the Thurm und Taxis Roggebier.

We finish at 11:00. Or, rather, we think we do. Matteo gets us one more flight.

Wood and Barrel-aged beers. Six samples, three of which are based on Wee Heavy. The Wee Heavies are so good, I finish all of them. Just to get me in the mood for lunch. My plan works.

We finish at 11:42. A victory for common sense.

Lunch isn’t at the judging location today. We’re whisked off to a restaurant, Boca e Uva, in taxis. At first, I think we’re going back to the hotel, when we pull into the street it’s on. In fact, we’re headed to a place just a little past it. 

It’s a buffet, obviously. This is Brazil and it is lunchtime. A bit more choice than on other days. It’s OK. I get some meat and some salad. Which pretty much describes what I always collect from a buffet. And an orange juice to wash it down.

After lunch, there’s a real treat. Non-alcoholic beers. Six samples. All three sour styles are pretty good. With the Catharina Sour the pick of the bunch. The best non-alcoholic beer I’ve ever drunk. Which may be quite a low bar. Or was. It’s been raised considerably now.

That was much better than expected. Some flights of alcoholic beers were far worse. Not sure what that tells us.

There’s then a long wait for the pre-BOS. Like two fucking hours. Such fun sitting and sweating. Watching Match of the Day helps pass a little time.

I’m doing the pre-BOS of English styles with fellow Dutchman Ferry Wijnhoven. At 16:50. Just four beers arrive:

British-style IPA
Special Bitter
Dark Mild
Robust Porter.

This should be nice and quick. Oh no, that was a mistake. It's actually 14 beers. Fuck.

It does turn out to be fairly painless. Only complicated by the fact that most of the beers are excellent. I quite like the English IPA and the Dark Mild. Though we settle on the Imperial Stout as the winner. It’s a lovely beer.

We’re done at 17:18. And I can fuck off back to the hotel. Totally knacked again.

I have some time to relax in my room. Which I really fucking need. Excuse the swearing. I’m feeling stressed. Weirdly, the hanging around seems to take more out of me than the judging. 

That should be the last stress of the trip. No more judging. Just a couple of days relaxing to come.

Some judges are going to the Madero steakhouse tonight. I decide to tag along.  I could do with some more meat. Can’t remember the last time I ate some. It’s so hard to get hold of here in Brazil.

I bump into Tina Rogers outside the hotel. She’s headed the same way. We share an Uber. 

The restaurant is in a shopping centre. Most of the others haven't arrived when we get there. It’s fairly spacious. Reasonably posh. And not very full.

For a while just Tina and me sit on a large table. Drinking caipirinhas, as they don't have any decent beer. And I like drinking caipirinhas. Who doesn’t? Weirdos, that’s who.  Anyway, I’ve had enough of beer after the last couple of days.

There are ten of us eventually. A very international bunch, a mix of South Americans and Europeans. Which is always fun. One of the reasons I enjoy judging so much, mixing with people from diverse locations. The main reason I love it, now I come to think of it. The actual judging can be as much fun as sandpapering your bollocks.

I order a picanha steak and chips. Medium rare, of course. It's very tasty. And goes well with a caipirinha. Well, anything goes well with a caipirinha. Even better with two caipirinhas. Or three. Or four. Any number, really.

We stay until around 10:15, then get Ubers back to the hotel.

I don't stay up long. Even though I can sleep in tomorrow. Just a quick draught of gut-rot cachaça to push me down the hill to unconsciousness.



Madero Steak House Uberlândia
Av. João Naves de Ávila, 1331
Tibery, Uberlândia
MG, 38408-902.
https://www.restaurantemadero.com.br/pt/restaurante



Disclaimer: Concurso Brasileiro de Cervejas paid for my hotel, some meals and some drinks during my stay in Uberlandia.