The anonymous return of a writer we can’t name for the sake of his post-university career
Boutiques are all the rage, clothes, food, countries, political movements and also breweries, which coincidentally this article is about; I’ll get back to them but first I’m going to draw our collective hateful eye over people who value style over substance. People who buy Apple products, kids who buy dead people’s clothes from vintage shops (seriously, if you’d been up before 1 in the afternoon you could’ve gotten them straight off the corpse from BHF as opposed to second hand and marked up 300% in price), people who listen to the worst indie music and claim it’s good merely because the rest of the world hates it and students who eat an entire block of brie in a one-err and wash it down with a pint of lentils (seriously, why? A pack of tatties and sausages is about £3, you can’t argue with Ireland). Breweries are undergoing a renaissance, people are perusing different beers, no longer is Carling satisfactory for a night of drowning sorrows or using as a social lubricant; it’s not like my legs are going to separate themselves.
The discerning drinker is opting for beers where the emphasis is on flavour and not on how easy it is to sink in 7 seconds; that said, the brewery I’m about to get overly excited about does have a beer called ‘Sink the Bismarck’. Brewdog have been making waves (I love puns) for a good few years now, the love child of two lads from the North East of Scotland who were disillusioned with the mass marketed piss people were drinking, consumers sleepwalking their way through a boozing, unaware of what a decent pint even tastes like; with this in mind they thought, ‘Fuck it, let’s rock the boat, in fact, let’s sink the bastard, who cares if this boat is called the Titanic and we’re sharing a cabin with Leonardo di Caprio and a host of Irish stereotypes.’. Brewdog have produced numerous beers showing all the different facets a beer can and should have, be they mild, a heavy, an IPA, a double hopped slice of heaven, a soupy malted smoky coffee of a pint or the strongest beer in the world.
Finally choice has returned to the beer market, and with it attention to the making of a deserving product, no longer are people sipping fizzy piss or ice-cold colonoscopy bag. Mid way through an article is the wrong time to try an’ dispel myths, but I pure forgot to do it earlier so I feel it’s now apt. Discerning beer drinkers do not necessarily have beards, believe it or not some are even women who don’t have beards. CAMRA would have the world believe that beer drinkers are 50+, have long flowing dwarfish beards and spend their lives writing letters to the local paper asking for immigrants to keep their foreign customs, like working on the Sabbath, to themselves.
Microbreweries are springing up across Scotland like so much mould in a student flat. From the far flung reaches of the Scottish islands, to the inner city of urban Glasgow, beer making is alive and well; born from a desire for something different, something interesting, and above all, something tasty. Hops are added to beers as opposed to pasteurising and destroying flavour, yeast is something to be savoured as opposed to being combated with Canesten and malt is finally a part of the flavour and not merely part of the ingredients on the label.
Today beer drinkers have tattoos, or not. They’re male, or not. They live at home with their parents, or not. They prefer a hand pulled pint, or not. This over-long perilously dull list of inane attributes is to give the impression that beer drinkers are not an 18-24 age bracket, they’re not someone you can pigeonhole, they’re merely someone with a sense of taste and smell. And if they own a QM membership card they can also get a sweet discount on the Good Spirits Company‘s finest independent tipples BY THE WAY. Join us for an Innis & Gunn (Edinburgh’s original craft beer) in Champions’.