Beer Review #4 - Jaipur

Whilst browsing the excellent selection of ales in Boothes in Keswick, I was pleased to discover that they sold Thornbridge’s Jaipur. Despite attempting to stick to the local ales, such as the highly rated beers from the Keswick Brewery, I opted to go against the grain and include Jaipur in my selection.

I first encountered this excellent IPA at the Big Lamp Brewery’s anniversary beer festival, and instantly fell in love with it, and breaking beer festival tradition went back for seconds and thirds later in the night, after it was decided that it wasn’t worth risking a crap one at such a late stage of the festival. A top score was jotted down next to ale’s name in the festival program, keeping with festival rituals, as well as a brief drunken description explaining how great it was, written whilst resting on my right knee and balancing the half pint in my left hand, only for it to be promptly rolled back up and stuffed into the back pocket of a pair of Levis, and soon discarded the next morning.

Originating from Bakewell, down Derbyshire way, Thornbridge Brewery has won multiple awards (over 200 apparently). Martin Dickie and Steffan Cosso began brewing in 2005, before the former left to pursue a dream of ripping off Trendies and Hipsters up and down the length of Britain, and set up BrewDog in 2007. Over the last decade Thornbridge have created a wide variety of ales, and having sampled their Kipling at the Newcastle Beer Festival, they’re probably worth keeping an eye open for.

Jaipur weighs in at a very respectable 5.9%. The name, which has multiple pronunciations depending on how drunk you are and guaranteed to make you look like it’s the first pint that you’ve ever bought as you order from the bar, originates from the Indian city of the same name (probably!), and pays homage to the fact it is an IPA (if indeed the careless assumption regarding the origin of the name holds true!). The drink itself has a distinct fruity and grassy quality to it, but not so much that it is overwhelming, and has a good hoppy quality to it with a honey undertone. A top drink, and whilst probably better suited for the Summer, I’d quite happily sup this ale all year round.

World Cup 2014

- Brazilian babies are so poor they have to eat footballs. 

Despite the controversial circumstances surrounding this year’s tournament, the 2014 World Cup is finally up and running and, footballing-wise, has thus far failed to disappoint. The Brazilian authorities have managed to keep the vast majority of Brazil’s impoverished underclass out of sight, and Blatter has resorted to keeping FIFA’s critics at bay by repeatedly branding any doubters as racist (an unscrupulous tactic none too dissimilar to Nick Clegg’s desperate efforts in the recent Euro elections). 

With one week gone, we have been treated to some exhilarating matches, some terrific goals, and some real surprises. The Spanish, who’d so effectively utilised the slow, tippy-tappy football made famous by Barcelona (or “Barca” as they’re known by the trendy Champions League nuggets), were among many a pundit’s top tips for the tournament, and their early exit will have raised a few eyebrows as well as a few smiles. Everyone likes to see a top seed go out, and their tedious style of play and regular diving won’t have won them many fans.

- Cheerio Spanners

There has also been the odd “controversial” incident, including the use of goal-line technology in the France v Honduras game. English audiences were left bamboozled at BBC’s Jonathan Pearce’s inability to understand the graphic depicting the goal-line result. Pearce was unable to differentiate between the initial shot rebounding off the post and the resulting deflection off the goalkeeper, leading his head to explode in confusion, exclaiming that the technology was proving controversial. Pearce was obviously slightly perplexed by the whole episode, but what was slightly controversial, was that the replays from the side of the goal showed that the whole of the ball did not completely cross the line. Whether this was due to the poor frame rate of the camera or an inaccurate angle, it does cast a slight shadow of doubt regarding the technology. When you consider that the apparently superior Hawkeye, which is used in the Premier League, has a margin of error of about 0.5cm, then it would not be unreasonable to doubt the call made by the technology used in the France game, which showed that the ball only crossed the line by the smallest of fractions. And if you consider that the Brazilians were unable to build any of their grounds and facilities on time, it wouldn’t be too surprising if that whilst they were busy painting grass, the goal-line equipment wasn’t installed correctly.

One welcome addition to the World cup however, has to be the use of the foam spray, preventing defensive walls slyly gaining an extra yard once the referee’s back is turned. It makes sense, and also livens up the game, sending Andy Townsend and co. into a state of delirium, “Here it is, the magic spray, it’s out, mint”. I expect to see it inEnglish grounds at some point in the near future, although I’m not too sure how it will fare in the pissing down rain, with gale force winds blowing foam into David Luiz’s hair.

Veiny leg gets his Gillette out

Disappointingly, the England team didn’t fail to deliver in failing to deliver, leaving the nation with a sense that the World Cup was over before it had every really got going. Less than a week after sticking Vindaloo, and Three Lions on the jukebox, whilst ordering a 9^th pre-match pint, England were out. Despite an encouraging performance against Italy, two defeats on the bounce isn’t good enough, and England were dumped out of the World Cup. Drunken optimism had some still very hopeful of qualification post-Uruguay, but a good performance from Costa Rica, a team deemed not good enough to be included in our local sweepstake, saw them defeat the Italians, and break English hearts.

However, it’s the unexpected nature of some of the results in this World Cup that has made it so interesting, providing an opportunity to still enjoy it, despite the bitter disappointment of England.

Out of Tune

In the days before you could stream games online, or watch them down the pub on Taliban TV, one of the only ways to catch an away game, unless you attended, was on the radio. Being a traditionalist, as well as having limited opportunities to catch The Lads down the boozer due to residing in what is mainly Mag territory, I tend to opt to follow away matches on the radio. There have been some great moments spent intently listening to Sunderland games on the “wireless”, hanging on to the commentators every word, conjuring up the sort of suspense that can only be surpassed whilst  trying to watch a match on teletext and desperately pressing refresh in the hope of an equaliser (those were the days).

However, following the enormously insolent decision by Metro Radio to pull the plug on Rowell and “Crabbers” in 2005 (due to apparently attempting to remain neutral, after being priced out of Newcastle’s commentary rights. They should have in fact told the greedy bastards at Sid James’s where to stick it, and continued to cover Sunderland), we have been left with a sole alternative in the form of Nick Barnes and Gary Bennet on Radio Newcastle.

 It has become a nigh on impossible task attempting to keep up with what is unfolding on the pitch, as Nick Barnes tries his damned utmost to talk about anything but the game. Following information that Mannone has the ball, we’re then treated to a string of tedious, and irrelevant, stats regarding the entire career of an unimportant opposition player, only for it to be interrupted after we win a corner, leaving an entire passage of play to abscond into history without our knowledge.  Give the bloke his due, he does his research prior to a game, but these extensive stats should be reserved for injury induced gaps in play, and not whilst the game is in full flow. I can’t help but feel Nick Barnes’s commentary style would be better suited for television, where the you’re not reliant on the commentary to know what’s occurring on the pitch, and where extended soliloquies about the weather and how scolding hot his halftime Bovril is, won’t drive you insane with frustration.

Barnes is useful in that he does keep you up to date with any scores that might affect Sunderland, but unfortunately, will do so even if it means interrupting a critical moment in the match. Likewise he is equally at ease interrupting critical moments to enlighten you of scores in games that are meaningless to us, and will happily talk over a Sunderland attack to enlighten the listener as to how Sporting Club Newcastle’s “Falcons” are getting on.

Whilst tuning in to our recent game away to Liverpool, the usual irritation I feel as Barnes reads through the team sheets at an undecipherable speed, gave way to a mixture of fury and embarrassment. Following an extended recital from The Big Book Of “The Anfield Atmosphere Is Dead Special” Clichés, the commentary ceased and the crowd volume was increased as The Kop sang along to Gerry and the Pacemakers. At first I assumed that there must be some sort of technical problem, perhaps Nick Barnes had knocked the microphone over with his Anfield-induced hard-on. Or maybe his mic had become muffled, as Garry Bennet desperately tugged on Barnes’s ankles to prevent him for disappearing up Liverpool FC’s collective arsehole.  But no, unbelievably Barnes was holding some sort of personal minute silence. For what cause? Who knows. A tribute to Alan Hansen, Stevie G and Yosser Hughes?  You tell me.

Following completion of this mass Scouse karaoke, commentary resumed, and Barnes carried on awestruck. Fortunately, The Lads weren’t quite so overwhelmed, and stuck in a decent performance, but unfortunately, lost yet again, leaving our league status looking rather precarious. We’re in need of some big changes before next season, and not just in the commentary box.

#nomakeupselfie

As I sat on the bus to work on Wednesday morning, flicking through my phone, I was bamboozled as to why my newsfeed was littered with “selfies” of lasses with no makeup on, claiming to be making people aware of cancer. I failed to see the connection. I was already aware of cancer, and I was now aware of what a load of girls I knew looked like without make up, ie pale with small eyes (only joking, it was actually great girls showing off their natural beauty). It appeared at first sight as a fad, a friendly version of Neknomination that everyone could join in with, whilst simultaneously patting themselves on their own collective backs, showing their hundreds of social media mates just how brave and selfless they were in fighting cancer.

This sceptical sentiment appeared to be echoed by various individuals, who in turn challenged the participants, questioning their motives and querying what the point of it all was. Soon after, the “selfies” posted were accompanied with links on which to donate, and have apparently since helped to raise a million quid towards the cause. Very commendable. Although I do still feel as though the whole process is slightly tinged with self congratulatory vanity, it has to be said that if it’s raising money and awareness, then the ends certainly justifies the means.

This once again demonstrated the power of social media to raise awareness. However, in the grand scheme of things £1million is peanuts, and pales into insignificance when compared to money out there which could be used to fight cancer, along with hundreds of other life destroying illnesses. Take Vodafone for example, this one company has managed to dodge over £6billion worth of tax (or 16 years worth of “no makeup selfie” donations based on it’s initial rate over 24 hours). Imagine investing some of that in to cancer research, and into the hospitals treating those battling the disease. This is what we should be making people aware of, not asking poor people to donate their hard earned cash when there is literally billions and billions that are being essentially stolen from our society. We complain that people are dying premature deaths, either because of unaffordable treatment, lack of care, or not enough research, yet this is due to the greed of the likes of Boots, Starbucks, and Topshop. Social media should be used to raise awareness, and outrage, at this injustice. It should be used to embarrass the companies involved in tax avoidance, and force them into compliance.

Likewise, when the likes of Serco and G4S are siphoning million and millions out of the NHS, raising a million pound for cancer research seems rather superficial and trivial. We are contracting out NHS services to the same companies that proved themselves incompetent during the Olympic Games, the same companies that were found guilty of conning the country out of tens of millions of pounds through over charging for prisoner tagging, and the same companies that have shown a shocking disregard to human rights laws throughout the world. We’re sacrificing the services provided by the NHS in order to provide profits for these immoral companies.

Through the medium of Facebook and Twitter, we have a platform unlike any other available in history, from which to make people aware, and force change. If only the Facebook generation in this country could be mobilised to make a real positive change. However, I suspect many are too busy taking a picture of themselves in order to further their social lives to really care.

Beer Review #3: Brewed in the USA

America – known for it’s huge cars, huge people, and huge murder rate, is also well known for having shite beer. Beyond the isolation of the United States, the self proclaimed “King of Beers”, Budweiser, is mocked and left well alone in the pubs of Europe.

However, over the last couple of years our colonial cousins have developed a taste for craft beer, resulting in a dramatic increase in the number of micro breweries popping up. A recent work training course enabled me to sample at first hand what all the fuss is about. Samual Adams, whose lager seems to be quite prevalent amongst a number of bars in the U.S., have delved into the ale market, producing some very flavoursome beverages in the process. We were over in November, prior to Thanks Giving, and so were able to manage a swig or two of their Harvest Pumpkin Ale, which was apparently first brewed by American colonists. A red ale, with strong hints of pumpkin and ginger, a really enjoyable and novel taste. We also sampled a number of other Sam Adams' ales, including another seasonal delight; Octoberfest.

Based in East Tennessee, we visited The Smoky Mountain Brewery, a microbrewery/restaurant (the Yanks need to be coerced in to visiting with the promise of food, and do be fair to them, for being “American Cuisine” the grub was pretty top notch), which boasted a range of beers, many of which drew their names from the local area. The Cherokee Red Ale, named after the Indians that they forcibly removed from their land, was a particular favourite of mine, and ideal to wash down a massive Philly Cheese Steak. While the hoppy Appalachian Pale Ale, was also well worth a sup.

We even had time to pop into a "Scottish Bar" in Knoxville called the Jig and Reel, which offered a the chance to experience a Celtic public house, complete with mounted stag head on the wall and bags of Walker's crisps behind the bar, and to be honest it was a really top bar, full of genuinely friendly people (as was much of Tennessee). The remainder of a wet Sunday afternoon was spent sipping bottles of "New-castle" (Brown Ale to me and you) in front of an open log fire, enjoying the pub quiz and live music.

Check it out

Whilst in Tesco’s recently, waiting to buy a bit scran and a bottle of wine for my tea, I was urged by one of the assistants to leave the queue and use one of the self service tills that had just become free. My polite decline generated an unwarranted level of confusion, with the shop assistant unable to fathom why I wouldn’t want to serve myself. Personally I find it mind boggling as to why anyone would voluntarily attempt to use a machine that can make even the most tech savvy nerd feel like a pensioner using an iPad for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a self service till that doesn’t at some point require you to seek assistance. The lazy bastards will be wanting us to I.D. our selves for booze next.

Secondly it seems absurd that supermarkets have managed to get customers to serve themselves, and in essence perform the work of 2 or 3 would be employees.  Supermarkets aren’t attempting to be helpful or more efficient, but merely increasing their profits further, while at the same time contributing to unemployment, and burdening the public with greater pressures on welfare. Despite the over emphasis and slight exaggeration, you get the point. Every little helps.