Windmill | The weighting game
It’s very simple: we love beer and have been known to shift the odd pint or two. And like many northern lads, we have a strong sense of what constitutes a decent pint.
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The weighting game

It’s a funny thing, this brewing game. You’d not unreasonably assume that us brewers are, shall we say, fuller of figure, what with all the tasting we have to do. Quality control is dirty work, and it falls to myself and Richard to act as your guardians of the perfect pint – a task we fulfil with alacrity.

But just stop for a minute. Have you thought how much physical work is involved? Because I hadn’t. I now retire to my sack each night utterly cream-crackered and am under no illusion as to the hard graft required to bring you, the great drinking public, a decent jar of grog.

There is an upside, and it is this: I’ve never been so svelte. Granted, that’s not a word many folk have ever associated with me, but now they might, seeing as I’m almost two stones down.

My tailor, Mr Debenham, is delighted. A whole new drawer of under-crackers, not to mention suits, shirts and trews. Expensive work then, as well as tiring.

But these are the sacrifices we make in the quest for perfection. This is the journey on which I am set and to which I am committed. And I shall not waiver nor divert; take an easy road nor slacken the pace. Oh no, dear drinkers – you deserve my all, and that is what you shall get.

Paul Bolton