A rotten cold has kept me from a snarky yet clever retort to the spree of posts in the UK beerblogoverse about styles. It's quite remarkable to read all the comments - even my telling, Jack Hughesian... nay, incisive contributions. Yet I have no energy and no appetite for such things jsust hours later. There is only one thing for me: Southern Tier Curvee 2. An odd beer but bang on for my needs. The flavours meld into is this singular medicinal response formed, weirdly, of beef broth and lemon juice. I would want a rare rib eye if I did not want a hoodie and a slathering of Vicks Vaporub more.

It's not fair to call this a review given my compromised state. Accordingly, there shall be no photo to the upper right today. Yet the effect is quite remarkable. Cloying pale malt sweetness and a silo of grain deeply cut by fresh lemony hops with, perhaps, shadows of black current and weediness... perhaps. Strong BAer respect but no indication of the influence of cold and flu season on the statistical average.