United Nations of Beer

Black Sheep Ale

by Daniel Burt
(Manchester, Lancashire, England)

If the reader will oblige me, this correspondent is drunk; I’m working from vague recollections, rumours, subjective opinion and flagrant hearsay however … this much I know as an absolute certainty: 5 hours previous to writing this I drank my first bottle of Black Sheep Ale.

Now, at the princely age of 25 I find myself taking my first tentative steps into the world of real ales.

It’s an uncertain time in any young man's life when he finally realises that Carling (England’s true national drink …) tastes like a particularly potent cleaning solvent and, quite frankly, gives you bad gas. Some say that finding the drink to fill to the void left by Carling is the last true rite of passage in any young mans life … searching, always searching, which brings me to Black Sheep Ale.

From the get-go I can see this is a classy affair. Straight after pouring from that reassuringly voluminous 500ml bottle I see that Black Sheep has a pleasing opacity, a friskillating coppery depth suggesting a no-nonsense process of brewing and distillation, unsurprising really as the no-nonsense label states unequivocally that it was brewed in “… Masham, North Yorkshire - and nowhere else …”

The impressionable first sip revealed a surprisingly smooth taste for want of a better adjective.

A cursory second gulp again confirmed a pleasingly mellow taste, one that immediately made itself self known whilst not being so strong as to feel an imposition. Black Sheep seems to effortlessly walk that tightrope of moderation lost with many real ales; not too strong as to trigger any immediate gag-reflex, though not so weak as to taste of dishwater - distinction without excess.

2/3s of the way through my first glass and the smooth taste, still spontaneous, had yet to become cloying. At this point the bubbling aftertaste became more prominent, lingering delightfully, somewhat akin to an Aero chocolate bar (an Aero bar with the added bonus of inebriation and inflated sense of self-worth). I finished the first bottle with three rapid successive gulps and was more than ready for a second bottle…

At 4.4% ABV, I was able to consume 3 bottles in a relatively short period and still hold civilised conversation to some degree (not excessively slur any words, certainly not the short ones in any case) and didn’t regress into a groping sex pest much to the relief of my female companion (a problem I’ve observed in too many Carling drinkers), truly, it would seem Black Sheep is quite the gentlemen’s drink.

And now, as Manchester’s glorious daybreak greets me, I await and speculate with consummate interest as to the degree, duration and severity of the hangover I shall receive for last nights indulgences.

I’m under no illusions that the next few hours will be pleasant however, the unassuming though persistent state of intoxication provided by Black Sheep Ale leads me to believe they’ll be more bearable than the numerous Gin binges I’ve indulged in recently.