There’s nothing mild about this.
This is big and shouty.
This is a hairy chested, arm wrestling, pipe smoking thug of a beer.
Its smell is beaten up leather jacket and plums, or eating red fruit on an old pub sofa.
The hot fag end smoky ashtray that Zak Avery mentioned in a recent review is there, but weirdly in this beer it’s rather nice.
It’s like the taste of a gangster’s back room boozer without the inherent violence.
There’s a big bar of chocolate in here too, just to show you that you’ll come to no real harm even if everything around you looks scary.
Then you get a big cup of coffee so strong it pins your eyelids open so that you don’t miss anything.
You’re in a smoke filled fighting den, tenners changing hands as unshaven men knock seven bells out of each other with brambles and dead wood.
And it’s all for your enjoyment.
Good this may be, but mild?
Source: Cotteridge Wines