The best pint is the one you think you've "deserved".
This weekend, it was after a lot of physical graft - three days of it, in fact.
But Friday's was the best. We'd spent several hours clearing rusty shelving from a Martello Tower, and being people who don't normally do physical graft, it felt like hard work. Well, it was hard work.
We knew we'd be hungry, so a Lancashire hotpot was hurriedly assembled and hurled in the oven and we strolled to The Crown - our nearest pub.
Dark Star Hophead is my beer of choice here. Served straight from the barrel in the cellar - yum.
S also tried Okells Aile (Porter) - not to my taste for a whole pint, but S nodded approvingly.
We got chatting to a couple of people we knew there and after a couple of hours relaxation we strolled home to be greeted by the smell of cooked hotpot. Perfection.
Was it the best pint of Hophead ever? Probably not. But it hit the spot to perfection. So there we go - it's all about the context again. That, and its power as a muscle relaxant.
No comments:
Post a Comment