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Summer is here. New Yorkers unbarricade themselves from their apartments, their doors only having been cracked open sufficiently far in the six months between October and April to take receipt of delivery food ordered over the internet. Pubs are overflowing with punters, relinquishing solitude and looking for solidarity. L. met me off the PATH for an early evening pub crawl one Friday. We took a tincture at the Blind Tiger first. I enjoyed a Sierra Rauch, whilst L. took a Southampton IPA. This place is noteworthy for Brits as it has examples of GENUINE real ale, i.e. straight off the cask rather than keg-conditioned.
2 comments:
Weren't we supposed to just be having one before eating? The only digestables where of the liquid variety. We're not students anymore you know...
I am reading this blog at 7.30 a.m. and am now ready for the ale in the picture, see what you have done
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