I went for breakfast this Saturday. A 12 o clock breakfast of beer and curry. It was a good breakfast.
I get a little crotchety, now in my late 20’s, when it comes to big walkaround tastings. I prefer a bar stool, and solid bar top when drinking beer. My pocket does not keep up with my liver, however, so this is the only way to taste a whole bunch of beers.
I was particularly excited to taste some of BrewDog’s beers. BrewDog are scottish brewers who have punked the craft beer industry with cunning marketing tactics such as selling a beer served in a stuffed animal.
That friends, is awesome, and shows how far the wine industry has to go when it come to packaging. A bit of braille and gold lettering is thinking outside the box to most wineries. Avondale should consider of using its ducks for something similar. MCC out of a dead duck’s neck? Come on. I’d drink to that.
BrewDog’s beer is called the End of History, and held for a short time the title of Highest Alcohol Beer. I had hoped to taste the Tactical Nuclear Penguin – a beer that was at one stage the world’s strongest – but at R900 a bottle, they weren’t giving out samples.
At first it was pretty hard to extract any beer from the BrewDog stand. As the guy working the stand – a smart oke who is distributing the brand in SA – kept pushing me to pay for a tasting flight. When I said, no, I’d like to taste the beer, I’ll buy a bottle if I want to pay, I was poured as tiny a tasting sample as I have seen. I could have cried more into a glass.
I stomped off to buy a beer. Fucked if I was going to be forced into buying a tasting flight because the guy pouring feels his beer is more valuable than my tears.
I did come back, mollified after a few tankards of the Blck House IPA from Devil’s Peak. The beers were good. I think Devil’s Peak’s IPA is better than BrewDog’s Punk IPA, but the more intense (and higher alcohol) Hardcore IPA, was my beer of the day. Their Dead Pony Club, is a wonder at only 3.8% ABV but with waves of flavour.
If you haven’t noticed, I am getting into my India Pale Ale.
This is the Whatupribs stand, or #WHATUPRIBS, or maybe What up, Ribs. I am not sure. I think the hashtag is compulsory. They are hipster ribs. Apparently “Jewish Kryptonite”. You get +1 in klout for every order. Simon Hartley stands, his head out of shot, deciding how many +1’s he needs for internet domination.
I chose Chicken Curry from the Taj. I lost followers, and internet influence, but I had a damn good lunch. A solid match with the rather insipid Citizen Amber Ale. I had had many IPAs by this point so that could be the reason the Ale tasted a bit bland.
These tables were reserved for some sort of sporting spectacular that was happening later in the day. My hip was acting up in the weather, so I was home sucking a 6 pack of King’s Blockhouse IPA dry before a ball, racquet, or helmet was used.
This was one of the beers made by SAB’s craft wing. Which made me think of the Salvation Army’s military wing. Nonetheless, the Master Brewer (whose name I didn’t catch) has a heck of a time, as she gets to make whatever beer she wants with almost no commercial consideration, as the beers are only available at festivals.
More SAB craft. Crafty Democrat? A more sordid mind could suggest SAB is hinting that the POTUS is at heart, a bag carrier.
I didn’t taste as much as I should have, but I drank just the right amount. I can say that in three short years the quality of local beer has increased at a phenomenal rate. There really is a wide choice of interesting flavorful beers now. Hat tip to the festival organisers for being a part of this revolution.