a month of beer– day five, St Peter’s English Ale (it’s organic!)

This entry is a curious one, because it is more about the circumstances surrounding the ale than the ale itself.  I drank it with smoked Alaskan salmon, herbed Camembert and a very nicely baked baguette (not that this pretentious little town has rubbed off on me or anything…). The food and ale enhanced each other– more accurately, enticed each other, duelling flavors and textures luring each the other out to play on my tastebuds. A most pleasing array of tastes– herbs, yeast, salt fish, sweetness, smooth cheese and the requisite undertones– all pausing to decant their wonder to me before ending up in my tummy. And the most curious part was that I had this gastro-alco-sensory delight while watching Annie Hall for the first time with my Constant Companion.Now there’s a movie. In that film you can see how women might fall into Mr. Allen’s bed, and you can also see why they’d wander away not long afterwards. Diane Keaton is the apparition sent to be a moment’s ornament. She appears more lovely than she physically is, and that’s all her. Heck, she still has it all these decades later (as witnessed in Something’s Gotta Give). The dialogue delivery alone is worth any reasonable cover charge, but the period-specific nods and smiles do cement the movie as, well, bitchin’.

Now as for my nice ale, it was pleasing on its own, a fine ale, warm and amiable as Annie Hall’s characters were brittle. However, despite the good and complementary food I took with it, it was not one of those ales that glow with a perfect inner light as you take each sip.

Still, a solid enough example of its kind. Seven monks out of ten, or rabbis, as you like it.