"Beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy" - Benjamin Franklin
A lovely evening Tuesday with bend_gules and Dan, both social- and food-wise, at the Dovetail Belgian pub, in Jerusalem Passage, Farringdon. Dan told me that Jerusalem Passage was supposedly paved with stone bought back from the Holy Land after the Crusades. Cool, huh? It’s right next to where the St. John Hospitaller’s HQ and medieval gate still is. Unlike the Templars they hung on to everything (including their lives).
Wonderful news in that Elizabeth is to be made a member of the Order of the Pelican. She’s going to be on vigil at Rhaglen Faire, which for once I am actually attending. Yay!
As some of you may know, ever since my trip to Estonia I have become a huge fan of dark beers, especially stouts and ruby beers. Last night I got to drink Belgian stout for the first time:
Troubadour Obscura first up, a “dark red ale, rich roasted malts and chocolate bitterness. 8.5 abv” and,
Hercule Stout, “complex malt flavours with a hint of coffee. 8.4 abv” (which amusingly had a picture of Hercule Poirot on the label).
Both were delicious, smooth, smooth, smooth and with complex fruit tastes. I liked the Troubadour Obscura slightly better - though it may just have been a case of drinking that one first and accustoming my tastebuds to it. Both were fairly light bodied for stouts (for a relative value of ‘light’) but lovely and definitely worth drinking again on a hot day when an Imperial stout is just a bit too heavy.
Dinner was Bison Burger. I’ve never tried bison before. As I said to my companions, I couldn’t really tell the difference between bison and high quality beef but it was delectable, if rather lacking in accompanying salad - truly a carnivore’s dish.
I was quite tempted by the fondue but was glad I didn’t order it, as I got to try Elizabeth and Dan’s (completely awesome) one and there is no way I could have made it more than a third of the way through it without my lactose intolerance raising its hoary head (thinks of the Meg Ryan moment in “French Kiss” after she eats a cheeseboard on the train - you know the one I mean). [evil grin]
On the way home (after passing the lovely St. John Hospitaller’s garden above) I turned my ankle on a cobblestone. No, I wasn’t that squiffy! Just bad luck. It wasn't enough to need medical attention but enough that it was still painful the next day and I cancelled my driving lesson for tonight. Involuntary movements on the clutch seem like a very bad idea.
Wonderful news in that Elizabeth is to be made a member of the Order of the Pelican. She’s going to be on vigil at Rhaglen Faire, which for once I am actually attending. Yay!
As some of you may know, ever since my trip to Estonia I have become a huge fan of dark beers, especially stouts and ruby beers. Last night I got to drink Belgian stout for the first time:
Troubadour Obscura first up, a “dark red ale, rich roasted malts and chocolate bitterness. 8.5 abv” and,
Hercule Stout, “complex malt flavours with a hint of coffee. 8.4 abv” (which amusingly had a picture of Hercule Poirot on the label).
Both were delicious, smooth, smooth, smooth and with complex fruit tastes. I liked the Troubadour Obscura slightly better - though it may just have been a case of drinking that one first and accustoming my tastebuds to it. Both were fairly light bodied for stouts (for a relative value of ‘light’) but lovely and definitely worth drinking again on a hot day when an Imperial stout is just a bit too heavy.
Dinner was Bison Burger. I’ve never tried bison before. As I said to my companions, I couldn’t really tell the difference between bison and high quality beef but it was delectable, if rather lacking in accompanying salad - truly a carnivore’s dish.
I was quite tempted by the fondue but was glad I didn’t order it, as I got to try Elizabeth and Dan’s (completely awesome) one and there is no way I could have made it more than a third of the way through it without my lactose intolerance raising its hoary head (thinks of the Meg Ryan moment in “French Kiss” after she eats a cheeseboard on the train - you know the one I mean). [evil grin]
On the way home (after passing the lovely St. John Hospitaller’s garden above) I turned my ankle on a cobblestone. No, I wasn’t that squiffy! Just bad luck. It wasn't enough to need medical attention but enough that it was still painful the next day and I cancelled my driving lesson for tonight. Involuntary movements on the clutch seem like a very bad idea.