The mystique of real ale

Rarely touched the stuff but recently developed a hunch that this mystique was only in my head after noticing how the cider revival brought out Matt’s sweet tooth – since yesterday I now understand how real ale has sublimated this sweet tooth into a voracious beer tooth.

At the CAMRA Great British Beer Festival yesterday it became clear after innumerable different thirds of a pint that real ale is really, really sweet – even when it’s bitter, it’s a bitter overlay over a light syrup. Even when it’s toasted, it’s toast and jam.
I like it. And I’m not going to beat myself up about the peach schnapps anymore.

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