Fond indeed was I, many years since - much water has flowed under Waterloo Bridge since the days when, after a Tuesday-night Bridge session at the palatial offices of Mr John Lewis and Partners, I would adjourn with chums to the Weatherspoon's in Victoria Station. And many and oft a time we would quaff a cheery noggin of Exmoor Beast. So when I heard that Hnaef had ordered a firkin of same for his rather nerdy celebration of the number 555, I tell you I was thrilled. I tell you, I haven't been so excited since I managed to find my way to a pub where they were selling the legendary batch of Marston's Oyster Stout that they'd accidentally brewed with Saaz hops. And what an evening that was.
So returning to the wonderful Exmoor Beast. Just looking at it tells you a lot. Dark, dark, dark. A real, strong, traditional old London-style porter. Ironically for a beer from the West Country.
It's on the sweet side, but never sickly so. Dark, complex, with as many layers as Ruth Gledhill's journalism. Offering you more with every sip. A tasting beer, not a drinking beer - and one that keeps on giving. On the Julius scale it rates a 54 or 55 BC. And you can't say better than that.
Best music to drink it to: "How do you solve a problem like Maria"?
Cheere Burton ;-)
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