Mythos: requires napkins

An Ode
To Mythos

Mythical, magical,

yielding barley refreshment to raise a drooping head.

The ice cold glass dripping incessantly, myriad drops

hurrying to wet the table through. All condensation, then:

“Oh yes, that hits the spot!”

Simply perfect, as the sun beats down without remorse.

Hello, we’re back! As you can see two weeks in Greece were well spent indulging in things I’d never normally have the time, inclination or interest in doing. When I wasn’t scribbling crap poetry on the back of restaurant fliers I spent the rest of time playing ‘Yes/No’ with Sarah and finding out that I’ve been calling Barbra Striesand ‘Barbara Striesland’ my whole life. Good job I read 7 books, drank gallons of Mythos and constructed a family tree on the back of napkin, or else I’d have nothing to show for a wonderful holiday but a vague tan line!

When I’m reading on holiday (and spouting verse to rival Simon Armitage) I’m never far from a little notebook where I can jot down words I’ve never come across before. That either make me sounds like a geek or perhaps slightly illiterate, but I read a lot of popular science and it can get quite…technical.

More often than not I can guess the meaning of words from their context and a dash of arbitrary knowledge. That’s because nothing is without context, nothing exists in a perfect vacuum, and that includes beer.

Luckily it only rained once on my recent holiday to Skopelos which allowed me 13 and a half days to lap up the piercing Grecian sunshine. At 36 degrees celsius to was hard not to break into sweats just lazing around with a book.

In such conditions you wouldn’t dream of picking up the same types of beers as you would at home. No matter how much a dry pale ale is perfect with the saltiness of olives or how much a German weisse would compliment the crispiness of a Greek salad, it’s just too hot for everything.

Everything that is except Mythos.

Without meaning to labour on my love for Mythos (I actually drank more Amstel on this holiday once the sun had gone down) Mythos rightly deserves it’s name and holds a special place in beer folklore. Mythos is a mythical creature that brings with it dismay and disappointment when drunk anywhere outside Hellenic border controls, yet chilled to within a inch of it’s life and deployed at critical moments of a boiling hot day on a Greek island, it’s  powers to revive might only be bettered by a cardiac defibrillator.

Admiring the distant olive groves and drying off after a dip in the swimming pool, Mythos is just…perfect. Nothing more, nothing less.

And in the context of the above weather conditions, Mythos is the best beer in the world. Period.

Mythos: the best beer in the world. The Hellenic one, at least.

On the last day our energetic shopkeeper asked me if I drank Mythos at home in England. She was delighted when I said it’s just not the same without the sun and the backdrop of Greece. “Everyone says that!” she exclaimed, wondering how such a thing could be true.

Why buy fresh fruit smoothies when you can have beer instead?!

Remember Reefs? Smirnoff Ices?

Remember Hooch and Barcardi Breezers?

Well this summer you might struggle to fnd the above, but fear not as beer has come to the rescue. If you want sweet fruity flavours and a drink to get you a little on the tipsy side, why fork out for dirt cheap alcopops when you have quality on your side:

Kernel 'Um Bongo' Ale

Kernel Centennial Pale Ale

Um Bongo aroma with a touch of Blackcurrant Ribena. ABV of 5.4% and a body of yoghurt and oats, it simply glides down your throat like Yop. Not too bitter, though the  bitterness that there is lingers long-time…

This beer knocks most pale ales for six and is quite frankly amazing. I was lucky enough to get this as an added extra from my #beerswap partner and it outshone the other brews. Beers like this can make a brewery…if it’s not a fluke then Kernel have a lot to live up to.

Halcyon by Thornbridge
(2009 Green hopped, oh yeah!)

Pineapple by Thornbridge

It’s more tropical than last years Halcyon, the dominance of grass in the nose has disappeared in favour of exotic fruit. I used to love that damn prairie grass, but hell do I now crave that beautiful pineapple explosion.

What a quandary! What hops have they changed or replaced? You may have sold out your grass roots Thornbridge, but you’ve replaced them with a beer that I could have sex with.

Thornbridge Halcyon is Innocent Smoothie on acid (or something stronger). Get me another fix, now.

Marble Manchester Bitter

Marble Passionfruit Bitter

A passion fruit hell pit, this is the sort of beer Adam threw away paradise for. And rightly so, Adam, who wants a garden of fruit trees bending under the weight of it’s luscious produce when you can sit back and knock the crown cap of a Manchester Bitter. I’d give up my Eve and all pasta based dishes for this beer. I’d be tempted to call Charlie Brooker’s bluff and offer a little finger perhaps. Maybe even a thumb. I’ll definitely give up all hoofed animals to maintain the existence of this beer perhaps in doing so rid the world of half it’s methane emissions too.

This might just be the beer that saves the world.

Beer information:

Beer: Centennial Pale Ale
Brewery: Kernel Brewery
Style: London Pale Ale
ABV: 5.4%
Area: London, England

Beer: Thornbridge Halcyon
Brewery: Thornbridge Brewery
Style: Imperial IPA
ABV: 7.7%
Area: Derbyshire, England

Beer: Manchester Bitter
Brewery: Marble
Style: Bitter
ABV: 4.2%
Country: Manchester, England

Thanks to mybrewerytap and beermerchants for supplying the beer. Yep, they were freebies, and I’m proud to say I’d pay a significant amount of my hard earned cash to drink these again. Which I have actually just done. And I would recommend that you also try them.

We went to look at a house tonight. ‘Converted chapel in historic Yorkshire mill town‘ certainly has a ring to it, even if it’s probably a bit of a pretentious shrill these days. Still, our jaws had dropped at the 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms over 3 floors, connected with a central spiral staircase and an attic living area that holds 100 people, all for under £195k. We had to look.

Despite the en suite shower wet room, integrated sound system, gated forecourt, all-in-one central kitchen unit and 8 foot (yes, 8 foot wide!) projector system in the attic/lounge I was disillusioned at the lack of garden space. Sitting in my ‘living area’ looking down on the Victorian park through my electric skylights I’d be comfy enough, but unfulfilled. A summer beer ain’t a beer if you’re not in the garden.

“I’m not really in t’garden” says the vendor. “Spen’dya ‘ole life wurking Satd’ys t’ave a barbecue on Sund’y's…not for me”.

Now I’m no green fingers, but I enjoyed landscaping the garden so that now I can sit and relax in it. I enjoy watering the easy-to-maintain shrubbery and even delighting at the garden lilies when they burst skyward in their orange, yellow and angel white glory. A sweep of the patio in the morning, a few weeds pulled up here and there – it’s all in the aid of that perfect evening sat with a beer, watching the sun fall behind the neighbours trees and the line of semi-detached gables turn orange and then rusty brown.

It’s not like I give up every Saturday. And when I do have to delve into the garage for my rake and strimmer, an afternoon in the garden means tops off, skins on and organic debris everywhere. Working up a sweat means ham and cheese on soda bread and a bottle of cold beer to cool down.

Gardening should be leisure and that’s why you can take your intercom and your walk in wardrobe; you can shove your separate laundry room and guest bedroom floor; I’m not fussed about the lights you designed yourself or the remote controlled garage door. I’m happy looking in through your high arched windows and knowing that I’m walking home to my garden. And hopefully a glass of beer.

Life's simple pleasures: a beer in the garden (in a fancy oversized wine glass)

If any of you London folk are still speechless at the price, I advise you to move up North. The nearest local pub to the ‘house’ we viewed sells Sam Smith’s bitter at less than £1.30 a pint and local butchers Wilson’s do the world’s best all meat pork pies for 85p. The North’s where it’s at folks 9as long as you can find a beer garden).