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I'm in the pub right now. I ordered a pint of British Bulldog from Westerham Brewery, a micro just up the road from here. It's a gleaming bronze with a thick head of foam. Not much on the nose, a little bread and some dried fruit. It's a real thirst quencher, full-bodied and smooth, a backbone of distant caramel and a finish of dry, peppery hops. It's not complicated, it doesn't need me to write detailed tasting notes, it doesn't challenge me in any way, it's just a great drink, a classic to-the-style best bitter, wonderfully kept and spot-on enjoyable.
There's a certain amount of pride which comes with drinking a pint like this. I look around and I see glasses of wine and pints of lager. I'm sitting here with my British cask ale, raising the glass and taking deep, satisfying mouthfuls. I am proud to be drinking it.
It's Cask Ale Week and that means we have an opportunity to champion this wonderful product. Sure, we can drink cask ale every week of the year, but that's not the point, this is about drinking British beer in the pub and celebrating the glory that is a pint of real ale.
I think I'll have another.