It's just after midnight here in London, and I'm still nursing the buzz from my first taste of Real Ale. As it transitions from Tuesday to Wednesday I keep wishing that such a fine elixir existed on the west side of the Atlantic.
All of this is because of my visit, tonight, to The Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell. Here was a pub situated in an off-the-tourist-path neighborhood serving traditional English ales from casks - ales so good they were more drinkable near room temperature than many cold beers back in The States. If I could go again I would but, for now, the aftertaste of my St. Peter's Best Bitter will have to suffice.
Cheers indeed.
P.S. I'll be home soon, and there's much to discuss and much film to develop!
All of this is because of my visit, tonight, to The Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell. Here was a pub situated in an off-the-tourist-path neighborhood serving traditional English ales from casks - ales so good they were more drinkable near room temperature than many cold beers back in The States. If I could go again I would but, for now, the aftertaste of my St. Peter's Best Bitter will have to suffice.
Cheers indeed.
P.S. I'll be home soon, and there's much to discuss and much film to develop!