"It is the death of all original thought."

Two brief ruminations about beer, both British, and both finding the center of the target in my increasingly jaded world.

First, the lamentable passing of the neighborhood boozer, and the trend of marketing beer with food.

How to get the Brits to drink more beer, by Henry Jeffreys (The Guardian)

... One of the things I love most about beer is its uncomplicated pleasure. I appreciate the taste but I don’t want to worry about whether I’m drinking the right one with my pork scratchings. As soon as people start trying to match beer with food then it can add a layer of pretension.

I have not disavowed my longtime advocacy of beer and food together, and intend to continue being hedonistic when the mood strikes, but even so, I harbor similar reservations for similar reasons. Balance, I say. Let there be Minted Pepper Saison in the lamb marinade and thimbles accompanying it at the beer dinner, as well as four-deep pints of session-strength Best Bitter ... and public transportation to make it home.

And, let's applaud a boot in the groin of these pub chalkboard images serving as the sole educational outreach of all manner of on-premise establishments on social media. It drives me crazy. Do we educate about anything any longer?

Free with every pint: how about a boot in the groin of the pub chalkboard?, by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett (The Guardian)

As a Guardian contributor, there are many things that grind my gears: rampant inequality, the prohibitive cost of quinoa and, of course, the consequences of rewilding in Hebden Bridge. But if one thing is guaranteed to raise my blood pressure faster than you can say neoliberalism, it’s the “humorous” pub chalkboard.

The tedious, predictable, cynical, unimaginative, intellectually vacuous cult of the pub chalkboard has become a national problem, and I have reached the end of my tether. Every day on social media ever more specimens seek me out, cynically concocted to maximise exposure. When I walk down the street they sidle up smugly, and I am transformed into a senselessly furious punk. I want to buy a pair of Dr Martens just so I can kick one in its smug, intentionally Instagramable groin, making them all topple like dominoes as I snarl and spit and swear.

Won't be back? Don't make promises you can't keep.

Let's just say that if you're the sort to trash my establishment on Yelp, while at the same time confessing that you love Applebee's, Longhorn Steakhouse and Penn Station, there's (a) a good reason why you didn't understand what we're trying to do at BSB, and (b) you're an asshole.

Yes, I get feisty on occasion.

Consider this just such an occasion.

There are 34 draft spouts at our pub and pizzeria, and a 35th if you count the cask cabinet. Typically, eight of them are given over to the beers we brew ourselves.

Because brewers Jesse Williams and Jared Williamson (with able assistance from Tony Beard) have been working very hard here of late, 12 NABC beers are on tap at this moment, including one firkin. That’s an all-time record.

I’m proud of this fact, and of the guys who’ve made it possible.

There’s a Colonial-style ale (Old Lightning Rod), a pre-Prohibition Pilsner (Kaiser 2nd Reising), and a retro Louisville sour ale (Phoenix Komon).

There are plenty of hops, even with unprecedented outages and shortages that require as many hours foraging as brewing: Hoptimus, Croupier, Elector and even Hoosier Daddy. We continue to counter the public’s default affection for Sierra Nevada Pale Ale with Mt. Lee, which strictly speaking is a “steam” beer, but which has Pale Ale character and has helped to cut Sierra consumption by roughly half since it became a full-time selection.

Jasmine the Mastiff, now being hand-pulled, is a bittersweet and oily gem, and it won’t last long.

The recently depleted Naughty Claus was the biggest selling house beer during Saturnalia, and Bonfire of the Valkyries, its listed counterpart, was smoky, black and delicious when I had a pint on Monday afternoon.

In fact, I’ve sampled all the NABC house beers during the past week, including Old 15-B and Community Dark. Given the problems we’ve been having with raw materials, which may be having an effect here and there, especially with hop character, I can’t find anything “wrong” with any of the NABC beers I’ve tasted, with the exception of a bit of wayward tartness at the front end of Community Dark.

It happens, folks. Get over it. And while you’re at it, how about veering outside the comfort zone now and again?

As I’ve labored mightily to make clear for quite some time, the reason why there aren’t that many places that try to do what we do on a daily basis is that it’s awfully hard to achieve a balance when pouring the best beers available from the entire world outside our doors, while also finding a niche inside the same building for house brewed beers.

But I persist in the view that internal competition is healthy, and furthermore, seeing as we all accept that our customer base is highly educated when it comes to beer, it would be impossible to foist off imperfect specimens for very long.

At the same time – straight up – I’m not sure that some of the pub regulars of long standing ever give the house beers a fair chance, and that’s because habits are a hard thing to break, which is why Sierra Nevada is not on tap this week. Those who walk past the blackboard every damned day without looking to see what’s there, and order Sierra by habit … well, you’re just going to have to forgive me for shaking your tree, because that’s exactly what I propose to do.

After all, I had to shake your tree way back when in order to get you to look past Coors Light, didn’t I?

And while I’m at it: The Phoenix tastes sour because it was made that way … the Kaiser has six-row and corn in it because that’s the way pre-Prohibition lagers were often built … yes, the Hoosier Daddy turned out a bit different this time, and I think it’s better than last time.

There’s always room for improvement in anything one does, and NABC’s house beers are no exception. We understand that, and it is one reason why we drink our own beers most of the time, livers permitting. Of course, being the one in charge, I get my choice of what to drink. The NABC lineup has been so good lately that it has been my go-to choice for leisure time drinking. Rest assured, I wouldn't drink them if I didn't like them.

So ... what am I missing here? I’m a reasonable guy, I love to talk beer, I’m available to talk beer, and I can take constructive criticism with the best of them, but I’m writing today to make a couple of things abundantly clear:

I will go to bat for my team, and when my competitive instincts get aroused, I’ll be an asshole about it.

If the beer doesn’t taste like you remember it tasting, it might just be because you’ve tasted it so rarely.

Maybe drinking the exact same beer every single night isn’t the sort of thing that brought you to this juncture in the first place.

And the big one: Viva la revolucion permanente!