Padstow Pride pours a dark amber, heading towards a reddish brown. The aroma is unusually rich in malt and has a hint of peppery hops. Down the hatch, and … that’s where my problems begin.
Sometimes it’s very hard to describe the taste of a beer without (a) calling it a blend of malt and hops (which pretty much applies to all beer), or (b) doing a Jilly Goolden and conjuring all sorts of flavours and aromas that no-one else could possibly detect.
So, how to describe Padstow Pride? It tastes classically English. It tastes of roaring log fires and rainy bank holidays and Poldark. It’s as smooth as a badger’s pelt, and as easy to drink as … oh, it’s gone already, is it?
If the quality is hard to describe, the quantity is much easier. It comes in a whole pint, which, as any true Englishman knows, is simply the number of furlongs in an acre, divided by five-eighths of the candle-power required to illuminate one bushel at a distance of two dozen yards.
Written by Richard Salsbury