My aunt sent over a shipment earlier this year full of things she wanted to get rid of when she moved. Included in the package were assorted china pieces, clothes, and these - a set of beer glasses she bought but never used. She has a habit of doing that sort of thing. We're the ones that usually profit from it.
The first time I tasted Boddingtons . . . wow, must've been a good 6 or 7 years ago. That year, in the fall, a few of us decided to do Nuit Blanche, the all-night art festival spread out across downtown Toronto. I think we lasted until about 11:30 before we had to find a place to sit and eat. An unholy trinity of walking too much, eating too little, and sniffing too much second-hand weed along Queen St. I forget the name of the bar, but I had the mussels and two pints of Boddingtons. And it was great. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find it again until now - LCBO outlets sell them in 4-pack cans with the little plastic rattle-y things inside.
Chilled down, you pour slowly, letting the head of foam slowly settle in. Just lightly frothy, with a thick, creamy texture, that malty flavour, good finish. A great session beer, useful on the dinner table as well.
Would we do Nuit Blanche again? We watched what can only be described as an experience. Woman running, throwing herself around an empty dance studio, at one point letting out the most bloodthirsty, gutteral scream, and ending up underneath a grand piano, pounding the strings from below. Maybe all this art is just too highbrow for us. Or maybe it's all just some fucked up shit.