More than one thousand
days ago, when my bro worked at a different company in the city. We,
him, a colleague of his, my ex and I used to go drinking regularly.
Mainly around the city, Surry Hills and the Darlinghurst area. A lot
has changed in the time I have been away.
P-Slatez is now engaged
to be married, soon in fact, in only a couple of months time. I was
looking forward to meeting up with him and his fiancée, having some
food and some good beer. With a rough time and location, Dom and I
went off on our way. Nina and my folks would join us later on at a
pub of our choosing.
'The Shakespeare',
famed for its large portions and rather tasty $12.50 main meals was
the place selected to fulfil our food hunger needs. Finding an
unoccupied but reserved table, reserved from 8.30pm and it was only
7pm so we had plenty of time. We took our seats, looked at the menu
just for the sake that it was there, we all knew what we wanted.
Having had the steak and lamb shanks before, a bit too much red meat
in recent days I thought it best if I went for the chicken burger. Or
maybe a chicken Parma (a chicken schnitzel topped with cheese and
bacon then covered in tomato sauce). No I, I think the big, fat,
juicy chicken burger is what I'm after.
Blinded like a rabbit
in headlights, I froze staring blankly at the special board which was
an A4 sheet of paper with several words making up food based
sentences on it. A form of 'Surf 'n' Turf' for only $17.50 how could
one resist. Five dollars more than my chicken burger but with a fat
piece of rump with king prawns stacked on top all the way to the
clouds and smothered in bearnaise sauce, ooooooh, yum. Chips and a
side salad to complement such a fulfilling dish. Digestion aided by
Young Henry's 'Real Ale'.
The party that had
reserved the area in which we currently sat arrived. Literally a bus
load of fresh faced young boys. Formerly assumed to be a bucks (or
stags) party, we changed our minds when we saw the barely of legal
drinking age bald faced boys hovering over the tables next to us and
eventually ours. Perhaps it was a 21st birthday party or
something, whatever it was we didn't want to be caught in the midst
once it kicked off. Poor P-Slatez was forced to forgo the completion
of his brontosaurus sized ribs. He had devoured most if not all the
meat and a large portion of the crispy little potato chip army and
some leafy greens. He was done, finished, full to the point of
explosion. A tiny wafer thin mint would probably bring him to an
immediate and messy end.
We took our leave and
walked through the doors of an equally as busy pub, 'The Dove and
Olive'. Another pub with too many taps to count and a huge beer list
covering the wall behind the bar.
I was readying myself
to place an order of a flight of three different beers when I saw
that the guy next to me and in front of me in the queue had done just
that and the barmaid serving him was struggling beyond comprehension.
Almost as if she had been ordered without warning to dismantle a
nuclear bomb or complete a Rubik’s cube without any previous
knowledge of how. My mind was made up, I had an oddly named Pale.
'Yullis Norman', 'Aussie Ale'.
A great Pale with
pronounced notes of Antipodean hops and lots and lots of tropical
fruit. A lovely beer that I haven't seen before or since but am on
the lookout for. We tried a few more beers, mainly sharing each
others and as my folks had met us and my dad bought the first round,
some of his too. A great Porter from 'Stone and Wood', the Stone and
Wood 'Pacific Ale', probably the best Australian beer available in
the UK and some other tasty drops that I cannot remember.
We were seated in the
outside smoking area out the back which was filling by the bucket
load. Cigarette smoke blowing in every direction, the combined noise
of mixed conversations all over coming together creating and almost
intolerable sound and a bunch of drunk Irish guys to one side and
drunk Scots the other. In a short period of time they must have
individually smoked a pack of cigarettes and broken at least four or
five glasses. With all the noise, smoke and broken glass flying all
over we left to go somewhere a little more peaceful, a serene place
to see out the evening.
The next pub was a
short walk through the quaint, picturesque back streets of Surry
Hills. Past cute little terraced houses and tree lined streets we
found where we wanted. 'The Trinity', the Father, the Son and the
Holy Ghost (or Spirit depending on which country or church or
whatever). That days Premiership games on the TV screens, a smoking
area with just enough seats for us all and a million and one beers on
tap. The place was the Trinity. Sitting outside for no less than ten
minutes, we were told by an impatient bouncer to move inside. The
only seats available inside were around a small round table. Small
groups occupying the remainder or the seats and larger tables. One
group behind us sitting on a bench and long table with what must have
been about ten seats. There were only three of them. Polite foreign
folk who saw our struggle and as they were leaving, offered up their
seats to us.
I've been drinking far
too many different beers to remember all of them, even if I had
written things down I think I would have still forgotten some small
and possibly important little pieces of information about each. Maybe
next time I try a beer I will take notes but at the time that feels
far too formal and annoying.
From what I can
remember, one particular beer stood out a mile with the sheer
hoppiness of it alone. Frederick's 'Hop Cannon' was a very special
hoppy beer. Resembling an Aussie IPA or something of the like, it was
malty, rich and citrussy but the hops kept coming and coming. The
more you drank the more you noticed, it was a beer that required more
than one and we had many before we left. There was a double IPA that
didn't come close and a Red IPA that was amazing but still fell
short. The moustachioed fellow on the label was enough to try it, add
that to the name and the curiosity of the 'Hop Cannon', it was an
obvious winner. That was the end of what could have been a rather
stressful event had we not evacuated both previous pubs in time.
I don't know what Frederick's it was but here are some.
possibly some more but I can't remember... sorry
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