A Beer in the Loire by Tommy Barnes

Author:Tommy Barnes [Tommy Barnes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999811754
Publisher: Muswell Press
Published: 2018-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

BEER NO. 7:

Enslaved Elf Munich Ale

RECIPE

4.2 kg Pale malt

2 kg Munich malt

10 g Nugget hops at 90 minutes

20 g Citra at 10 minutes

50 g Citra dry hops in the fermenter

MISTAKES

Too much Munich malt

Attempting to imitate an articulated lorry

We British are much closer to the French than we think we are, but there are some subtle but nonetheless fundamental philosophical ways in which we differ. Namely, traffic roundabouts. A Briton approaches a roundabout expecting another car to be coming and therefore slows down. A French person approaches a roundabout in the same way that Evel Knievel approached a jump – any loss of speed is seen as potentially catastrophic. The French view is that if everybody arrives at the roundabout at the same speed and as long as there’s no one directly in front of you, then everyone can pass round the roundabout successfully and at a thrilling speed. And when it works, it’s a much more efficient system than the British one. There’s virtually no loss of time and you save on brake pads. Of course, if there is someone in front of you when you hit the roundabout, then you crash into them. But you just give a simple Gallic shrug as you pull them out of the wreckage and everyone is on their way, happy as can be.

Road markings are taken as a polite suggestion in France. A suggestion that is widely ignored in favour of driving the perfect racing line. I believe this is a major part of the syllabus of their driving lessons and has been for many years, for it is not just the boy racers who pursue the perfect racing line, it is drivers of all ages and sexes. I have several times been forced to swerve onto the grass verge to avoid elderly French farmers’ wives in tiny little cars coming round the bend in the opposite lane, their faces set in grim concentration, intent on hitting the apex of the bend even if that means having all four wheels on my side of the white lines. At least, they would have all four wheels on my side of the white lines if two of them weren’t off the ground.

And while we’re on the subject of grass verges, in France they are as much a part of the road as, well, the road. On a narrow road, you don’t slow down to let someone else through, you simply both drive up the grass verges on either side without ever taking your foot off the accelerator. In fact, losing speed in most situations is a big no-no.

I try to drive like the French now. It’s a lot more fun. Every approach to a roundabout is death or glory. What a way to live each day! You might think that the French are terrible drivers, but on the contrary, they are much better than the British, and that is why they can get away with driving like Red Bull-soaked ferrets. On motorways, British drivers will

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