In the art college days, John Lennon frequented the Philharmonic Pub and Ye Cracke, two watering holes that were an easy walk from school.
My travel mates and I stopped in at both yesterday, and I tried something familiar and something new. At the Phil, I washed down my sausage and mash with a pint of Old Speckled Hen, which is readily available in the States in cans and bottles.
I may be wrong, but I do believe it is smoother and creamier on draught in England. Or maybe that’s just my taste buds playing tricks on me.
Stopping at Ye Cracke was a real treat as well. We sat in the nook where John, Stuart Sutcliffe and others often drank pints, got pissed and solved the world’s problems. There I had one of the 10 or 12 (it’s a blur now) cask ales on tap at Ye Cracke.
The one I chose was Wessex Gold, a lightly hopped and wonderfully bodied beer. This one was served near room temperature, which brought out all the flavor. And then some.
Today, my goal is to drink more stuff I have never had. And I’m please to report no American swill has crossed my lips.
Cheers again from Liverpool.