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The first time I tried beer it was horrible. I was just a boy.


The first time I went to the pub I had a pint of lager.


The first time I got drunk it wasn’t because I had too much lager, it was because I had too much cider.


The first time I tried a dark beer it was too astringent, it was too different.


The first time I tried proper cider it tasted like sour apples and horse shit.


The first time I tried Newcastle Brown Ale I felt cooler. I was cooler.


The first time I tried good cask real ale was a revelation. It was Hobgoblin or Gales HSB.


The first time I tried a hoppy pale ale I didn’t like it. I wanted it to taste like Hobgoblin or HSB.


The first time I had an 8% beer I couldn’t believe how strong it was. Just a half of that one.


The first time I had an imperial stout I couldn’t believe how delicious it was, how big and different.


The first time I had an Innis & Gunn I thought it was the best beer I’d ever tasted.


The first time I tried Orval I didn’t know why it tasted that way.


The first time I tried lambic I was warned: “It’s as flat as a witch’s tit and sour as hell.” That made me want it more. I hated it.


The first time I had Stone Ruination IPA I discovered hops. I discovered I loved them.


The first time I had Drie Fonteinen Gueuze I realised why people love gueuze.


The first time I really enjoyed a saison came as a revelation. See also: wheat beer, lager, US-style barley wine, tripels.


The first time I had a pint of beer seems a long time ago now.





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