Visit the Cooking Lager site

When I look into the glorious majesty of a glass of cooking lager I feel I am glimpsing the very essence of human progress, of millennia of human endeavour to create perfection in getting cheaply pissed up. From the origins of beer as a murky pongy porridge like drink the Egyptians only necked because they hadn’t invented lout yet, to traditional pongy ales that were only ever popular because no one had invented lout yet. For millennia mankind has drank whatever grog is cheap and thought “Crikey, what is this muck? We can do better than this nasty pint of pong surely?” Spurring human endeavour and ingenuity to make less of a pongy muck and more of a crisp clean golden delight of pleasure in a glass, each generation has improved beer to point whereby it’s damn near perfect. A perfect can of lovely cheap lout to sit in front of the telly with and get a little pissed up. Golden in colour, refreshing of taste, all of heavenly pleasure available in the current life for the price of a few buttons.

That’s what happens when you drink a drink as fine a brew as Spar own brand 4% Dutch Lager, sat on the couch, watching people doing up houses or cooking on the telly. You figure out that the world is a pretty decent place. Sure there is lots of ropey pongy muck out there to drink, and odd balls that want to force you to drink it by putting the price of your lovely golden nectar up, but these people are losers. Like Charlie Sheen says to Jennifer Grey in the all time classic film Ferris Buellers Day Off, “The problem isn’t Ferris, it is you”. The problem isn’t cheap lout or the people that love it. The problem is in the hearts and minds of those that don’t.

So with this I have a challenge, to enunciate and explain just how fine a grog Spar Dutch lager is. Well it’s fizzy and golden and lovely. No pong to make you wince, no aftertaste to make you go “ewww”. Just ice cold pleasure, poured into a glass. A fine admirable and quality can of cooking lager. Upon the final swig, just as I was about to help myself to another can, a thought hit me. A sad thought. What does man do when all the progress to be made has been made? What now for beer, now the perfect beer has been made? Atrophy, decent, a return to dark pongy grog? Or will mankind simply wait and take a while to appreciate this plateau before embarking upon the next climb of progress? Time for another can to ponder this issue.