"I don't believe it!" Jake McCall says, grasping your hand in his powerful one and breaking into one of those shaggy grins he's prone to give in the rare moments when he's actually surprised by something. "I heard you were coming out here, but I thought it was next week! This is great! How've you been?"
You're very glad to see McCall. You still remember the last time the two of you got together, at Drury's Bar after the Tico Station affair. That had been tense, and the tension bred a proportionate thirst. Given the general conditions at Tico Station after the Black Lions had persuaded the Banyan rebels it was time to move on, the bar bill you and McCall paid practically doubled the GNP, probably.
You quickly fill him in on your reasons for visiting the estate. When you get to the matter of the transshipment of the medical supplies, he nods. "Yeah, that can be sticky as all hell. But we've got somebody in G-4 who really knows how to stroke the folks at the Guild. Hang on." He touches his mike. "Leopard Delta Nine from Leopard Delta Six. Hal, what's the name of that newbie in Supply? The one who can sweet-talk the wings off an angel?" He listens for a second. "Right. Thanks. Hey, meet us at the canteen. Out.
"Drop by G-4 and tell your sad tale to Sergeant Warren. Rebecca'll get it all ironed out for you." McCall grins again. "Boy, this administrative work gets you thirsty! Come on." And before you know it, you're heading across the grounds, away from his company's pavilion and back into the main estate. Roth smiles trimly as the two of you pass and, and after a couple of turns and a few stairs, you find yourself sitting down with McCall in the estate's tap room. Ornate tap handles adorn the draft kegs, and the warm, softened light sparkles off the rows of curved beer glasses. A steward hustles from behind the long oak bar and asks you what you would like.
"Newcastle Brown Ale for him," McCall says, "and a MacAndrews here. The draft, not those damn bottles." You fall readily back into conversation with Jake McCall, reliving old adventures, plotting new ones. The ale comes, and it hits the spot, giving an already great day an extra glow of pleasure . . . .
Each month, hopefully more frequently than that, I will review beers I've sampled. I'm neither a brewer nor a scholar of beers, and I don't drink them as often as I do wines, but I enjoy a hearty brew now and again, and I'm happy to offer my insights on the good, the bad, and the foamy.
I use a one-hundred-point system to rate beers, with 100 being superb and 1 being unfit for human consumption. My criteria are price, appearance, and flavor. All prices are for purchase at retail outlets in the Houston, Texas area unless otherwise noted.
I invite your suggestions for beers to review.
Belhaven Scottish Ale
The tall, cream-and-brown can this ale comes in advises one that "The Belhaven Brewery is Scotland's oldest surviving independent brewery dating back to 1719." One would think that in two hundred eighty years, the brewmasters might have learned a thing or two about their trade.
One might think that. One would not be disappointed, if one tasted this ale. To tell the truth, when I'm in the mood for a dark ale I'm sorely torn between this fine offering and the Guinness I like so much.
In color, this ale is a little lighter than the Guinness. Take the Guinness, and a Newcastle, and imagine a color midway between them. Now, deepen it two shades--well, maybe a shade and a half--toward the Guinness end. That's a Belhaven. It's a rich, deep hue but not so dark as to be "coffee colored."
"Delicate" is the only word I can come up with in describing its aroma. For a dark ale, it's very delicate, in fact almost underwhelming. But as I am not a fan of a strong beer odor (I am told that some people love the smell of beer, but I cannot bring myself to share that affection), I don't mind the delicacy in the least.
Taste-wise, I rate the Belhaven as weaker than the Guinness, but also a wee bit smoother. It's sort of like drinking an Old Peculier (another of my favorite dark beers, and devilishly hard for me to find at the stores anymore!) but without the bitter touch of the latter.
Many people are put off by dark beers as being "too strong" or "too bitter." I suggest the Belhaven to them. It deserves the 85 I'm giving it, and it may just change their minds.
Newcastle Brown Ale
It's a sad duty, given my patriotic bent, but the truth will out. American beers, at least the mass-produced ones, are just awful. Oh, I've had some very good beers in microbreweries, but the mainstream beer producers in this country just don't produce a particularly drinkable product. Perhaps it's the ingredients; too much corn and even rice in place of barley and hops. Maybe they even intend for it to be sickly in body and pale in spirit. After all, this is the land of "Nothing exceeds like excess," and the brewers want all those young American men to drink as much beer as their guts can possibly hold. The weaker the flavor, the more of it the buyers may put down.
I don't know. I just know there aren't very many American beers that flip my toggle switch. And, equally sadly, foreign beers other than Mexican are almost prohibitively expensive. That's why I like Newcastle. It's a decent, serviceable beer, and it's affordable.
Now, it isn't a light-colored beer, and that may put off some drinkers. It's a light brown color--hence the name, people--but that's where any similarity to the dark ales ends. Newcastle has a light flavor, none of the bitterness so noticeable to many people in the darker offerings, and it doesn't leave a strong aftertaste.
It isn't a great beer. But it's a very good mid-priced beer, and well worth keeping several in your cooler. My rating: 84.
"'Did you ever taste beer?' 'I had a sip of it once,' said the small servant. 'Here's a state of things!' cried Mister Swiveller. 'She never tasted it--it can't be tasted in a sip!"
Charles Dickens, The Old Curiosity Shop, Chapter 57