I'm so off the pace on this blog, it's ridiculous, so it's going to be a mad dash through ten or so of the more memorable hostelries and restaurants to try to get somewhere close to the present day! This will therefore be mostly stream of consciousness stuff rather than well-turned phrases.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.
We then took a couple of hundred paces to the Peculier Pub, which has more of an emphasis on bottled beer, but still with plenty of interesting draft options. I seem to remember drinking something called Golden Monkey, but frankly, who knows? A dodgy jukebox made the listening selections rather limited
