When the Scottish Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) ruled that BrewDog’s claim on their own website that they were a “post Punk apocalyptic mother fu*ker of a brand” was “offensive”,

Over the course of human history, many embarrassing events have occurred at Oktoberfest themed parties.

If I had a pint for every time I’ve seen a brewer come through the career pathway of completing a law degree, being admitted to the bar with my former partner as his moving counsel,

This week, I had a completely legitimate business meeting at Malthouse [1] with Handsome Pete. As well as being a former long-serving bartender, Pete is the “tech monkey” who has been assiduously putting up the Malthouse blogs recently when I finally get round to writing them. He has taken on this demanding role while Colin the Handsome yet Softly Spoken Scottish Proprietor has been sunning himself on the white tarmac beaches of Glasgow. [2]

The 2009 Australian International Beer Awards (AIBA) dinner was considered by virtually all attendees to be one of the poorest events of its type. The food was pedestrian (both in style and the pace of service), quality craft beers were extremely hard to locate, the Master of Ceremonies had the demeanour of a fusty headmaster and thought nothing of “shushing” a room full of adults for minutes at a time, hardly any Australian breweries won trophies and, to top it off, the entire event was really quite expensive. Personally, it is undoubtedly one of the single best evenings I have ever had.

The first beer book I ever owned was the magnificent and much-missed Michael Jackson’s iconic Great Beer Guide (500 Classic Beers). The second was the Ultimate Encyclopaedia of Beer by ebullient English gentlemen Roger Protz. His use of “ultimate” in the title turned out to be perhaps a tad misleading as he went on to write literally thousands of articles and at least 20 more books about beer. His latest literary offering - 300 More Beers to Try Before You Die – arrived recently. I basically tore the courier package open like a six-year-old drinking Red Bull on a hot Christmas morning. It was not my proudest moment.