I sang a wedding yesterday afternoon. I stopped by my maildrop and found an appearance fee check from Philly Beer Week. So after a trip to the bank to cash both checks, I'm standing in Newtown, dressed up, pocketful of bucks, at about 5:15 on a beautiful spring afternoon. I called Cathy and asked her what she was doing: she was in Newtown!
We met at Isaac Newton's, and ran into a good friend, Mark. Cathy had a Gaffel Kölsch (no, really, she did, they have it on draft there and you know, it's pretty crisp and bitter and nice...), I got a Rogue Black Brutal (wicked flavorful in about three different directions, like a big old ganache of beer), and we talked and talked and laughed.
Then the wedding party started drifting in, having a beer before reception, and some of them are my neighbors, and they're all getting beers (Rogue, some hefeweizen, more Gaffel), and then Mark talked his wife Eileen into coming over (I'd backed off to a pint of Guinness by now, looking for something a bit lower ABV), and when she showed up, I talked Cathy into staying for a cocktail, but the bartender talked me into a bottle of Left Hand Chainsaw instead, and it was wonderfully hop-fruitish and malt-wacky, a whole bunch of beer, and everyone else was liking it too, so we drank that for a while.
We finally left, got Chinese takeout and a pizza for the kids, and went home, and watched TV a bit while I read my new Queen & Country collection. Good times. I could almost forget the allergies for a while.
Did I ever mention we have to do the Pearl Fishers duet if we ever meet?
Shurely shome mishtake? "Draught" not draft?
Malt-wacky -- I think that ought to be our tasting term of the month.
BTW - can't tell if Stonch has been tipping too much, or if that's his Sean Connery imitation... ;-)
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