The Highest Compliment

030

So we’re in London. Two lads from the north with a day of drinking to do before getting back on those tracks and out of the bustling, buzzing capital. Notebooks out. Phones out. Plan, plan, plan… maps, routes. Ley Lines for hops and malt, for the pub stool and the swinging wooden sign. Don’t want to miss anything. Do it – do it all, drink it all and see it all and talk it all and experience it all and  –

Breathe.

No; we can’t. This is madness.

We opt, instead, to visit pubs we know will satisfy our needs and, perhaps more importantly, take us away from the madding crowds. As we emerge from the tube, bags deposited in King’s Cross for safe-keeping, Clerkenwell seems in fine mood this morning. Powder-blue sky provides the backdrop to a gleaming white church which begs to be admired for a quiet minute or two. It’s still early, but The Jerusalem Tavern is busy enough, a cacophony of rattling forks, jabbering lips and swooshing beer taps. Casks sticking out from behind the bar are being drained of Suffolk’s finest with aplomb, and it’s elbow-room only with jostled pints of Pale until, in an example of the natural tides that are birthed in busy pubs, two large groups leave at the same time. Being northern (did I mention that?), we dive into a vacated table, swap Pales for Cream Stout, and get on with the business of conversation. The usual stuff. Stuff that matters – to us, at least. We could sit here all day in the cosy gloom, but we know that beyond that glass-less black door is more of the same.

035More walking, scarves  wrapped around our necks that little tighter against the increasingly-spiky wind, takes us to the Gunmakers. We stride in, imaginary (but keenly felt) snow-flakes around our boots, only to be greeted by the biggest smile of the weekend; a real ear-to-ear job, mustachioed to boot. By happy coincidence, a friend, transplanted, is pulling pints today. Two pints of Harvey’s Best, please.

Standing at the end of the bar, we lift the beer to our lips and … silence.

Perfect. Satisfying and vibrant of voice, but leaving the freshest, crispest hop-smack on the lips, these pints –we know – are why we’re here. Without  restraint or manners we guzzle them down, becoming aware that the powder-blue outside has melted into Cadbury’s purple and the streetlights are blinking to life.

‘Another beer?’ asks our friend behind the bar.

‘Same again, please’, we smile.

Same again. The highest compliment a beer could wish for.

 

** UPDATE ** – if you enjoyed the feel of this post, check this out by ATJ this week. Wonderful stuff. 

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About leighgoodstuff

Blog: https://goodfoodgoodbeer.wordpress.com/ I'm Leigh Linley; born and bred in Leeds, and writing about it since 2005. TGS exists solely to highlight the great beers that are out there; brewed with passion by Craft Brewers around the World. I also edit the 'Tavern Tales' section of Culture Vulture, which looks at Pubs and Pub Life rather than the beer in the glass. If you'd like to submit a piece for Tavern Tales, or contact me about any Freelance writing you think I would be suited to, then don't hesitate to contact me via email here.

Posted on 13/01/2013, in Beer and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 13 Comments.

  1. That’s a great post, Leigh. You’ve really captured one of those great Pub Moments, that exact minute, if not the second, when you realise you have found exactly the experience you want, and you can have it all over again.

  2. Fantastic post Leigh, as ever. The best beer writing leaves you thirsty, and this certainly has!

  3. Same again. The highest compliment a beer could wish for.

    How very, very true.

    Excellent piece.

  4. excellent post, has an immediacy and urgency that really takes you to the bar just in time to order a pint.

  5. Leo is the man.

    Sounds like a great day.

  6. Like everyone else says, lovely piece. Reminds me a bit of this in a similar vein by Ten Inch Wheeler which we also loved.

    When we were deciding our ‘beer of the year’ for last year, Boak and I made having wanted to drink lots of it in one sitting the main requirement — ‘same again’ always a good sign!

  7. As I said yesterday Leigh, a truly wonderful post, feels like I’m there with you supping those lovely tasty pints. Top stuff

  8. Great Post, love it!

  1. Pingback: Here’s to Yorkshire Bitter | The Good Stuff

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