Summer's Beer, whatcha drinking?

After the spring beer post a few weeks ago, I've now written a blog for the Guardian's Word of Mouth about beers for summer. If you haven't commented over there (why not?! It's very close to being the current most-commented article on the Life & Style section), then what are your summer beers of choice?

The full post is here. 

The World Cup Beer Sweepstake

In one week the 2010 World Cup kicks off in South Africa and here is the sweepstake with a difference – draw a team, find a beer from that country, drink it and write about it, and, if that country wins the World Cup then you will win free beer for a year from myBrewerytap!

If you enter then you will have your name randomly drawn with a team, your task is to then find a beer from that country (for some this will be easy, for others it will be a real challenge – Honduras and North Korea anyone?!) and write a blog about it (how you got the beer, what it tastes like; include some interesting ‘beer facts’ about that country, attempt a national food dish to go with the beer or you can drink it while watching the team... whatever you want).

This is open to anyone, anywhere who wants to take part, but we can only take the first 32, for obvious reasons (unless we get 64) and to win the beer you need to be based in the UK for postage reasons (if you are outside of the UK then you can still play along!). If you’ve got a blog (any blog - beer, wine, food, football, technology, politics, whatever) then you can post your findings there. If you don’t have a blog then you will be able to write something and post as a guest on someone else’s blog.

If you want to take part then you’ve got until 5pm on Wednesday 9th June to get your name down (use the below form). On Thursday 10th June you’ll find out your team and the World Cup Beer Sweepstake begins on Friday 11th. You need to find the beer, drink it and blog it before the World Cup Final. That’s a month, so not long. Then whoever draws the overall winning team will also win free beer for a year from myBrewerytap*.

Let’s use the #WCBeerSweep on twitter.

If you want to take part then fill in this form! (We’ll only use the details for this competition, nothing else, and they will just be seen by Andy and me)

UPDATE: We have filled 64 places and therefore entry is closed and the form has been removed. The first 32 will compete for the myBrewerytap prize and the second 32 will compete for beers donated to us by Ales by Mail, Adnams and Highland Brewing Company.

48 Hours in Belgium (Part 2)

Continued from yesterday.

Saturday 29^th May

8.30am: I am woken by a loud fart. I’m surprisingly clear-headed (which might mean I’m still pissed). I try to sleep some more, attempting to ignore the man smells around me.

9.30am: Breakfast. I’m desperate for a bacon sandwich, instead I get the European equivalent: bread rolls and slices of ham.

10.30am: Leave hotel, no time for sightseeing, but time to stop at Bier Temple to pick up a couple of interesting bottles.

11.15am: To Cantillon Brewery where Pete joins us along with Dominic, Janine and John. We get a tour around the place and it’s stunning. I’m not sure what I expected, but it beats that. It’s small but it just feels like the best brewery in the world; the cobbled stone floors, the old bottles, the giant wooden barrels of beer, the brewing equipment; it feels like you need to step delicately so you don’t disturb anything, it seems like it creaks and groans and lives. There’s a real magic to the place, a soul. At the top is the Coolship (which sounds like a 70s blaxploitation film set in space, if you ask me) where the beer is pumped into a large, flat tray-like vessel which is opened to the wild yeasts in the air through slats and holes in the roof. This is what makes Cantillon, Cantillon (the Homebrew Chef has some great pictures of the brewery here).

We get to chat to Jean Van Roy, the brewer, who opens bottles for us, including a lambic aged for five years in a cognac barrel which was only bottled in April 2010 and won’t go on public sale - a very rare treat. Like a proper tourist I buy a t-shirt, a glass and two bottles of Cuvee St-Gilloise, the renamed version of Cuvee des Champions, which is delicious. Pete offers around a bottle of his own barrel-aged with cherries experiment (which he very bravely offers to a master of this type of beer) and it’s really good.

Cantillon is a rugged and beautiful place and I could stay in awe for hours. The only strange thing was the group of Dutch guys wearing bright orange cowboy hats and the coach-loads of people who arrived for tours, seemingly having never tasted beer like this before (you should’ve seen their puckered faces – what is this beer?!).

2.30pm: Arrive at De Heeren van Liedekerke for beer and lunch (we leave Dominic, Janine and JC in Brussels). This place is fantastic; a restaurant with seating outside, excellent food and a vast beer list unlike anything I’ve seen before, including a huge selection of vintage beers. A bottle of Cantillon Crianza Helena (a special blend only available in this bar) and four plates of delicious beer-soaking stodge come our way. They even inflate a bouncy castle but sadly there isn’t enough time and as much as we'd love to stay all afternoon we have somewhere to be.

4.30pm: We arrive at the Weekend of Spontaneous Fermentation and meet the others again. Lambic and gueuze in a small hall with lots of friendly people; a beer festival unlike any other I’ve ever been to. Fantastic, unique in so many ways (deserving of its own blog post). There was some excellent beer here, the pick of the lot was a 3 Fonteinen Schaerbeekse Kriek, made exclusively with the eponymous cherries giving the most delicious depth of fruit.

8.30pm: Back to Brussels and to Moeder Lambic. More IV Saison, confirming it as one of the best beers I’ve had in Belgium, and a Valeir Extra, a punchy blonde with big US hops. Toe-tapping jazz plays at the back of the bar while we flick through the long beer list. We continue to search for attractive Belgians but remain unsuccessful (they are, however, all lovely people).

10.00pm: Next stop: Les Brasseurs de la Grand Place (watch out, their website plays some annoying music), a brewpub directly off the Grand Place. There’s handsome brewing equipment as you go in, but the beers really disappointed; well brewed just lacking flavour (and expensive too). We leave, back into the bustling centre, made even busier thanks to the large stage set up in the middle of the Grand Place, playing more jazz – there’s nothing like jazz somewhere like this, it’s cool and relaxing, but funky and uplifting, perfect drinking music.

11.00pm: One in the Hoppy Loft, another Hornbeer, this one the Happy Hoppy Viking, which disappointed – a triple IPA but just a mess of hops (to use JC's term, the brewery seem a bit of a mine field - some brilliant, some a little less so, but I still want to try more). Still no good-looking Belgian women and we finally give up hope (further searches reveal that this is the best looking woman in Belgium).

12.00am: Back to the hotel because we have an unfeasibly early start after a weekend of drinking. Outside, below our hotel window, the party continues until we wake up.

Sunday 30^th May

6.00am: Woken up. Zombie-like we leave and Phil drives us back. I have two packs of crisps and a banana for breakfast. With four guys who have been drinking all weekend and eating junk food, the van fills up like a hideous gas chamber.

9.30am: Back in England.

11.00am: Exactly 53 hours after leaving on Friday I return home and slump down on the sofa, after carrying a rucksack, a small suitcase and a box of beer from the station to my flat. I spend the rest of the day either looking at the bottles of beer I brought home or sleeping.

A whizz-bang tour of Belgium, enough for a flavour, but giving the taste for more. We had some fantastic beers in some great places. Cantillon is a huge draw and should be a must-visit for anyone in Brussels. I need to go back now and do it all again, plus I have a feeling that I’ll be craving IV Saison all summer.

And did someone mention a Brussels Twissup?

48 Hours in Belgium (Part 1)

Friday 28^th May

5.00am: Get up, shower, dress, pack, panic I’ve forgotten something important.

6.00am: Leave house, walk to train station.

7.20am: Meet Phil and Owen in Folkestone and get the Eurotunnel.

10.00am: Arrive in France, heading for Belgium, first stop: Westvleteren for breakfast.

10.30am: Realise Westvleteren is closed on Friday (lazy bloody monks), change of plan: Oostvleteren.

11.00am: Arrive at Oostvleteren, home of De Struise Brouwers, head for their ‘school’, where they have a shop and offices. This is also closed. I begin to start worrying that we will never get a beer. Owen, who is in Europe interning as a brewer, worked at Struise earlier this year so called Urbain, the brewer.

11.30am: After arriving at Deca, where the Struise beer is brewed (they don’t have a brewery, instead they rent space where they can make, package and distribute their beers), and meet Urbain, a short, scraggy guy with stress and laughter lines etched into his skin, who speeds around like a madman, here one moment, gone the next, infectiously busy and cheery. He’s bottling, labelling and packing palates of Pannepot, as well as many other simultaneous jobs. I have never seen so much Pannepot in my life – over five palates full – and we help to lift the crates off the trolley and pack them.

12.00pm: Work done, we finally get a beer: Saint Amatus 12. We might have failed to get a Westvleteren but this is the next best thing: Struise’s ostensible 'copy' of Westvleteren 12. It was young (too young, said Urbain, as he poured and then tasted it before leaving us for half an hour while he filled in some paperwork) but it was stunning: a body like velvet, dried fruit sweetness then a super-fresh hop flavour, leaving a dry finish. They are working on a new bottle cap for this beer which is a firmly tongue-in-cheek nod to their West neighbours.

1.00pm: We are in the office/shop for the brewers, sitting upstairs in what can best be described as a bachelor pad with the best beer fridge ever, drinking bottles with the brewer: Elliot Brew, a big IPA brewed with Mikkeller, wonderfully fresh and very good; Roste Jeanne, a delicious red Belgian ale; Mocha Bomb, a blend of stouts (50% Black Albert aged on coffee beans, 25% Hel & Verdoemenis from De Molen aged in Jack Daniels barrels and 25% Cuvee Delphine – yes seriously) to make a superheroic one to kick everyone else’s arse; Black Mes, which is Black Albert aged for three months in Caol Ila’s Distillers Version 1995 casks, which is an incredibly good whisky-aged beer with the barrel adding just enough to improve the original (if such a thing is even possible); and finally a couple of Westvleteren 12s (we got there in the end). Carlo, another member of the Struise family, shares a couple of the beers and then it’s time for us to leave.

2.30pm: Hungry – need food!

3.30pm: Arrive in Roeselare for a Rodenbach Foederbier (the unfiltered and unpasteurised version of Rodenbach) and lunch (over-dry croquet monsieur) in the busy square. I don’t really like Rodenbach so this wasn’t my thing (it’s the aceto that I don’t enjoy, that vinegary harshness at the back of the throat). The question of attractive Belgian women is first raised: are there any?

5.30pm: Get to 3 Fonteinen in Beersel, meet Armand the blender and (former) brewer, tour the cool, aromatic cellar, lined with chalk-marked casks of different beers ready for blending. We try the last batch of lambic brewed on site, straight from the barrel, which is young but delicious (of course it is, we’re drinking it in the cellar, surrounded by giant barrels of lambic – there’s something to be said for context) then drink their kriekenlambic in the bar, a bright blush of pink with a wonderful cherry depth. Did you know they used 10-year-old challenger hops to brew with here? 3 Fonteinen is a great place.

8.00pm: Arrive in Brussels at hotel after driving around looking for parking for ages. The hotel (hostel) is best described as cheap, cheerful and cosy, overlooking a very busy and noisy street, with four single beds lined up side by side, perfect for four drunk guys on a budget...

8.30pm: Eat something disgusting (half a baguette stuffed with two burgers and fries) to prepare me for an evening of drinking. Brussels is lively, busy, jazz music plays all around because we arrive during a Jazz Marathon.

9.00pm: Meet Dominic from Marble Brewery, Janine, girlfriend of Dom and brewer at Ashover, and John Clarke at Moeder Lambic. We sit outside, in the warm evening, and drink. Taras Boulba is light, dry and hoppy, just what I needed after imperial stouts, quads and sour beer all day. A IV Saison is just about the best beer I drink all weekend, packed with tropical fruit and just so bloody tasty. We continue to look for attractive Belgians without success.

10.30pm: To Poechenellekelder, opposite the lamest national landmark I’ve ever seen: the Manneken Pis. A bottle of year-old Orval (because I couldn’t not have one) and various others, including a 2008 Cantillon Zwanze, made with rhubarb. A great evening just chilling outside drinking and talking.

12.15am: To Porte Noire, a dark and grungy underground bar, filled with smoke and people (the non-smoking section is empty when we arrive, in fact they have to turn the lights on for us). It’s salubrious, the walls are bare, the tables wobble too much to be safe, but it’s a great place to drink late at night. The Hercules Stout was very good.

1.30am: To Delerium’s Hoppy Loft, a smelly, hot, smoky place with a decent selection of taps and bottles, including a new brewery to look out for – Hornbeer (Black Magic Woman is fantastic, their IIPA is delicious and their bottles look great). Dom also thought buying a bottle of Sam Adams’ Triple Bock was a good idea. It probably wasn’t.

2.30am: Chips and mayonnaise. Still searching for good looking Belgians and even at this time of night with beer-blurred vision we are unsuccessful.

3.15am: Bed.

Hopping to Belgium

Back from Belgium and I had some fantastic beers in some fantastic places. I managed to drink a few of the recommendations from last week and IV Saison from Brasserie Jandrain-Jandrenouille was probably my favourite beer from the weekend (or, at least, the beer I’d want to drink most of, most regularly). 1001 Beers tells me that the brewers have day jobs of working for Yakima Chief, the Washington state hop producers, based in the Belgium office, and that sure shows through in this beer – fruity, citrusy, tropical flavours on top of a full and smooth body, with hints of Saison spice and zest, the sort of beer you guzzle down because it’s so delicious and effortlessly drinkable for its 6.5% abv. Sitting inside or outside the excellent Moeder Lambic in Brussels, this beer, poured on draught, is perfect.

A draught Taras Boulba also went down very well after an afternoon spent drinking imperial stouts, quads and lambics. A Valeir Extra followed the IV Saison perfectly with a great whack of US hops, making a Belgian Blonde into something so much more interesting (Belgian Blondes bore me in the same way as Brown Bitters). These three beers, with their liberal use of hops, were exactly the sort of beers I was hoping to find. Another discovery was Hornbeer from Denmark, with fantastic looking bottle (except for their choice of font) and great beer inside, they are one to look out for, particularly their Black Magic Woman and the Imperial IPA. Of course, we also drank a lot of other excellent beers, including visits to De Struise, 3 Fonteinen, Cantillon and the Weekend of Spontaneous Fermentation, but more on those in later posts...

The World Cup of Crisps

Walkers, to coincide with the 2010 World Cup, have released 15 new flavours, asking eaters to buy them, supporting their favourite and potentially winning ‘a packet’ in the process. It’s a mix of national pride for the eater along with the curiosity of trying new flavour and in the Walkers Flavour Cup, the flavours are going ‘bag to bag’ to find the Walkers Flavour Champion. Obviously I wasn’t content with just hearing what the winner was, I wanted to find out for myself, so I bought the packets, opened a beer (Marble Manchester Bitter, of course) and had my own little tournament.

There are 15 flavours but three of them I haven’t seen: Scottish Haggis, Welsh Rarebit and Irish Stew. As those nations/teams aren’t actually in the World Cup, it probably doesn’t matter too much, but it did leave the problem of having 12 flavours to format into a competition. To combat this I started with a group stage (three flavours in each group, one goes out, the other two are placed first and second) then to a usual quarter/semi/final (the winner group 1 plays runner-up group 2, winner group 2 plays runner-up group 1...). I picked the groups blind and randomly.

Group 1

German Bratwurst

Japanese Teriyaki

Italian Spaghetti Bolognese

Group 2

American Cheeseburger

French Garlic Baguette

Argentinean Flame Grilled Steak

Group 3

English Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding

Dutch Edam Cheese

Spanish Chicken Paella

Group 4

Brazilian Salsa

Australian BBQ Kangaroo

South African Sweet Chutney

Group 1: German Bratwurst tastes like sausage and is actually pretty good; Japanese Teriyaki is sweet and peppery and a good flavour; Italian Spaghetti Bolognese was a bit boring and just a little herby. German Bratwurst tops the group, Japanese Teriyaki is second, Italian Spaghetti Bolognese goes in the bin.

Group 2: American Cheeseburger is literally like eating a McDonalds cheeseburger in potato chip form, it’s a little smoky, there’s cheese, mustard and gherkins and it’s actually brilliant; French Garlic Baguette is a little garlicy and a little parsley, but ultimately weak; Argentinean Flame Grilled Steak is steaky and flamey, exactly what it should be. American Cheeseburger is number one, Argentinean Flame Grilled Steak is in second, the French drop out.

Group 3: English Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding is a little beefy and a little of something else which is possibly the Yorkshire pudding, sadly a little disappointing, maybe some horseradish was needed in the end; Dutch Edam Cheese tastes a lot like cheese; Spanish Chicken Paella tastes like nutty rice, paprika, pepper and peas and is actually reminiscent of a real paella. England leave the tournament early (through gritted patriotic teeth) then it’s Spain in first and the Dutch in second.

Group 4: Brazilian Salsa is sweet and herby; Australian BBQ Kangaroo tastes like BBQ and unknown meat; South African Sweet Chutney is both sweeter and spicier than the Brazilian salsa and just a bit tastier. Brazilian Salsa goes one, Australian BBQ Kangaroo wins, South African Chutney is second.

Quarter Final 1: German Bratwurst vs Argentinean Flame Grilled Steak

Close game, tough battle but ultimately the bigger power of the Germans beats the slow-build quality of the fiery Argentineans.

Quarter Final 2: Japanese Teriyaki vs American Cheeseburger

Another tough battle and the Japanese were strong but the American just tastes too much like an actual Cheeseburger to drop out; America go through.

Quarter Final 3: Dutch Edam Cheese vs South African Sweet Chutney

The Dutch stand out like their orange shirted equivalents, beating the spicy South Africans.

Quarter Final 4: Spanish Chicken Paella vs Australian BBQ Kangaroo

Actual classy paella flavour versus the burnt meat brashness of the Aussies; Spain go through.

Semi Final 1: German Bratwurst vs American Cheeseburger

Sausage plays burger in one of the ultimate food battles. The presence of mustard and gherkins in the burger sees them comfortably into the final.

Semi Final 2: Dutch Edam Cheese vs Spanish Chicken Paella

Long, hard-fought battle; Spain authentic and excellent from the beginning but the Dutch grow stronger as they progress. We had a penalty shoot-out (meaning Lauren stepped in to try them and choose the winner) and Spain make the final.

Final:  American Cheeseburger vs Spanish Chicken Paella

The big one and the two flavours which tasted the most authentic got to play each other. The fun, enjoyable quality of the burger powers past the paella and they are my Flavour Champion.

So American Cheeseburger wins for me purely because it tastes so much like a burger and I have a lot of respect for anyone who can make something else taste like a cheeseburger. Some of the packets were surprisingly good and some were just a bit rubbish, but the overall competition is good fun and it’s made my crisp eating a little more interesting. Now I guess I just need to find a relevant beer for each pack of crisps... 

If you've had any of these then what do you think of the flavours? What’s your Flavour Champion? 

If anyone needs me I'll be in Belgium

Tomorrow I’m going to Belgium. We’re staying in Brussels on Friday and going to the Weekend of Spontaneous Fermentation on the Saturday. Hopefully we’ll be stopping at a couple of breweries over the weekend too – Westvleteren, De Struise would be cool, Cantillon for breakfast... Tell me though, because I won’t be able to drink just sour beer and quads for two days, what new Belgian beers are there that are worth looking out for? I’m thinking along the lines of Chouffe Houblon, modern twists on traditional Belgian styles, something a bit different (but preferably not spicy Belgian blondes or anything similar to Duvel - I have no idea why people like Duvel -  as they aren't my thing).

Judge Dredge

When you have my surname, and you are born in the 80s, there comes a point in your life when becoming a judge holds considerable value.

When I was 14 I was in a ten pin bowling team. I was pretty good; good enough to have my own bowling ball (not good enough to have my own bowling shoes though). My ball wall electric orange and inscribed in it was the name 'Judge Dredge'. I don't really know why I chose that name. I guess it felt imposing or important. I guess that made me better at bowling (I scored 226 in a game with that ball). I also knew there was very little chance, no matter how well I succeeded academically, that I would ever be an actual judge. That was until today...

Judging a beer competition is pretty much the coolest job in the world, ever. Seriously. If I tell my mates that I spent the day judging a beer competition then I get serious man points. I sit at a table, someone brings me beer, asks me to drink it and then requests that I objectively give it a score out of whatever. Essentially my job is to drink beer and find the best ones.

Today I judged the International Brewing Competition. I was faced with a total of 59 individual brews, starting at 10am and finishing at 5pm. The quality was varied. Some were excellent, some were poor, most slotted inconspicuously into the middle ground - forgettable. The best were wonderful but known only by number, the worst were undrinkable and lucky to be unknown by name. A bland quality flowed through many and I found myself writing the word 'dry' way too often; I wrote the word 'excellent' way to infrequently. But judging beer is good fun; it's social and friendly, it encourages you to talk about beer, it's incredibly interesting, it makes you look at beer differently and concisely, using only taste as your guide, and it makes you a more considerate drinker. It also lets you try a spectrum of beers and see just how wide a style can be spread, and that's fascinating.

Every little boy's dream is to judge a beer competition and I've now done it. The next thing on the list of boyhood dreams is either finding a dinosaur skeleton or flying to the moon.

P.S. I wrote this on my blackberry on the train home from London. I was quite drunk.  

Style, Sight, Reputation and the Perception of Taste

If you give me a US IPA, and you tell me exactly what style it is, then my brain triggers an expectation of taste. If you give me a beer, but don’t tell me what it is, and I see that it’s chestnut brown with a thin head, then I can almost taste it before I actually raise the glass to my lips – it’ll be bready, a little toffee, maybe some earthy, English hops, right? If you give me a bottle and don’t tell me the style but the tasting note says ‘rich chocolate flavour, roasted fruit and a bitter finish’ then I know what to expect when I drink it. And if you gave me a bottle of Dark Lord/Westvleteren 12/Pliny the Younger then I can guess roughly what it’ll taste like flavour-wise and I also expect it to be incredible, thanks to its stellar reputation. But how much do these – knowing the style, colour, tasting notes and reputation – affect the actual perception of taste?

To try and get a better understanding I asked Lauren to choose any two beers from the cupboard. No restrictions, apart from a couple which were 750ml or some strong specials - there were about 50 bottles to choose from ranging from lagers, through pale ales up to big stouts, from all over the world. She then put them in the fridge for an hour and banned me from looking until after I’d tasted them both.

Part of me expected to be almost stupefied by not knowing the beer/style in my hand, as if the senses of smell and taste would be rendered useless. At the same time I wondered if not seeing them would intensify my ability to smell and taste. Also, I was worried that I’d get them entirely wrong, proving that I can’t actually taste anything...

As you can see from the video I didn’t do too bad. I got the strength and colour of the first beer – Mikkeller’s GIPA, which I fail miserably at trying to pronounce – picking out earthy, peppery citrus but confusing it with something a little bretty and sour (it wasn’t sour, just bitter, lemony and fruity from the hefty use of German hops). Taking the blindfold off and drinking it again seemed to make it taste different, as if the flavour was suddenly amplified. The second beer - Viven Porter - I managed to get the colour straight away from the roasted aroma but the easy-drinking quality of it made me think it was a low abv beer when it fact it was 7%. Again when I drank this without the blindfold it suddenly tasted different; stronger and generally bigger. I’m pretty sure my perception of these beers changed as soon as I knew what I was drinking, which I guess confirms the idea that knowing what beer is in your glass does affect the way it tastes.

The mind tricks in clever ways so I wanted to see how well I can smell and taste without anything influencing it. The selection group was small, which may have affected me (I knew I had a bottle of mild in the cupboard and as soon as I tasted the dark beer I thought it was that), so maybe next time I need to do it at a beer festival where there are hundreds of beers to choose from. I also think that next time I will be more objective and know what to expect of a test like this, perhaps taking more time to think about the actual qualities of each, rather than speedily sniffing and sipping just to get to the big reveal of what I’m drinking. The use of all the senses of important and I sped past them eagerly.

The test was far from scientific, but an interesting look at perception and the senses. I want to try it again soon and it’ll be interesting to see how I do with a couple of British ales. The other idea, inspired by Chunk, is to get Lauren to choose any bottle of beer from the supermarket without me knowing and then pour it out and see how I get on. As experiments go, this one has got my brain ticking in many ways, raising questions about packaging being able to influence the taste of something, as well as reputation and style. 

Have you attempted a similar blind tasting exercise? If so, how did you get on? 

I think there’s so much more to this idea than just this post and I find the whole concept of taste and perception fascinating. The only trouble is that I look like a right twat with that mask on. I've also just realised that the way I have the page set up cuts off half the video, thankfully it's the half in which nothing happens, but if you want to watch it in glorious (hazy) widescreen then you can see it here.

I was absolutely wasted...

Here’s a question for everyone and it’s inspired by something Andy wrote in a post earlier this week. He said: “to put it bluntly I was bolloxed.” It’s not surprising given the list of beers he was drinking during the day, but the question is this: from a writer’s and a reader’s perspective, should we talk about being drunk in blogs?

Traditional beer journalism has worked hard to make beer a serious beverage up there with wine and whisky, breaking away from the binge-drinking statistics, so by getting completely hammered and then telling everyone about it, are we in fact doing more harm to beer than good? Or, is that just a side of beer drinking which now gets a chance to be written about honestly thanks to the diary format of beer blogs?

What do you think: is it good to read about someone being drunk (so long as they aren’t throwing up on trains and pissing in bins) or does it do a disservice to beer? What about discussing a raging hangover? A part of drinking we should talk about or not?

I also ask because I’ve mentioned it in a piece I’ve written for CAMRA’s Beer magazine and wonder what others think. I got the image from here.