Baz Chaz
Landlord.
- Joined
- Aug 15, 2010
- Messages
- 1,937
- Reaction score
- 144
Not such a long time ago, in a small sleepy village far away from the cities, ooop north it were, on the Lancashire Cumbria border, there lived a quiet unassuming character, Baz Chaz, he was retired from the racing of rats, a happy chap content with his lot and a fisherman in his now ample spare time.
Old Baz rather liked the occasional tipple, but was fed up of the wines, red, white and the poncy rose, although his refreshment of choice, Lagavilin from the Islay distillery will never change, but this is a treat not for daily consumption or the one he fears most, The Missus, would do terrible things to him, uttering a strange chant which causes pain to the tender ears of Baz, the words are often jumbled and confused, but one word is forever present, Decorating! He lives in fear of the dreaded âPaintbrushâ and the colour charts presented by The Missus do terrible things to his eyes, so our old friend needed something else to keep his spirits up and himself busy to avoid the Decorating.
He likes a noggin or two of beer does our Baz, preferring the beer of the cask and preferably locally brewed whenever possible, but found small brown bottles were appealing to him more and more, so he decided to return to the once familiar territory of some 30 years ago, Home Brewing. Secretly over a few weeks he started to accumulate a stash of the bottles brown in a hidden corner of the garage, when feeling particularly brave he would mention as a quiet aside to The Missus his old hobby and he found The Missus was not too averse to the idea, in fact she admitted that some of his brews were very good!
Whilst on holiday our mate and The Missus went to Islay, the home of his favourite single malt and came across a small local brewery and when out and about treating The Missus to lunches in as many pubs as he could find, Baz kept tempting her with beer of the cask and one evening he fed The Missus strong potions containing Bacardi and not much coke, while he heavily fortified himself with large draughts of Lagavulin he mentioned the small brewery and was thinking of returning to Home Brewing, The Missus actually suggested our man should âgive it a goâ!
Once home from holiday Baz was no longer having to hide out in The Den or spend time out in the garden to avoid Decorating, our man turned to âtinternet to gather information for his quest to return to Home Brewing. He found a strange place, THBF, where there were many not unlike him, but they brewed beers in many forms and had strange names to conceal their identities, no doubt from their 'Missusâ as well, for they like Baz will live in fear of this forbidding creature. The clansmen of THBF appeared from places far and wide, even Yorkshire and from abroad like Scotland, but they were a kindly bunch and made our friend welcome. Baz read and read, remembering familiar terms from times past, like wort and sparging, a language The Missus wouldnât understand and this would fill Bazâs heart with excitement and enthusiasm. Having some small amounts of coinage saved from his pocket money supplied by The Missus, our man had saved enough for a couple of kits, for this was familiar territory to our friend and he had high hopes of some success.
Baz became a frequenter of THBF and started posting and asking questions of many, all of whom were helpful and encouraging, there was a kindly chap, Wez, who seemed to be the chieftain of this rabble who would speak with Baz in the room of chatting, they talked about times past, when Baz was a young man and visited gatherings of strange beings, rock stars, who congregated in small groups and made strange sounds which made the hairy ones shake and cheer, but mostly the talk was of brewing of ale and somewhere called The Dark Side.
The Dark Side sounded a mysterious place and quite dangerous, for it seems that once someone has crossed to The Dark Side there is no return, they refer to it in hushed tones and only refer to it by the initials âAGâ brewing and talk of many ingredients being mixed to produce fine beers. Simple it is they say, but great care must be taken otherwise there is the risk of infection by the wild yeasties which will ruin the beers of the careless. But it is a side that appealed to Baz even after such a short while and only on his second kit which was still in the FV, it was a journey Baz found he wished to take, lead on by the Cheiftain Wez and his many followers.
There is another far more dangerous place on The Dark Side, which will require much coinage of followers of the Dark Side, it is The Shiney Place, those beautiful objects constructed of the steel stainless which shine out to the upturned eyes of those who have crossed to the dark side and wish for more, very quickly Baz was drawn to The Shiney Place and The Den was cleared and his small but hopefully workable brewery was born, pleas went out to a friend who brought him a shiney boiler, Baz even managed to scrape together some coinage from The Missus which allowed him a shiney wort chiller, the rest was scrounged from friends and contacts in the wastelands of the place Baz used to call Work, all that is left is for the makings to arrive then our friend will well and truly have crossed over to The Dark Side from which he may never return.
The only thing that is needed now for all the followers of the Dark Side, both old and new, is something that cannot be taught or learned from books............ patience, for even when brewed, time is needed before the potions of the Dark Side can be sampled :whistle:
Old Baz rather liked the occasional tipple, but was fed up of the wines, red, white and the poncy rose, although his refreshment of choice, Lagavilin from the Islay distillery will never change, but this is a treat not for daily consumption or the one he fears most, The Missus, would do terrible things to him, uttering a strange chant which causes pain to the tender ears of Baz, the words are often jumbled and confused, but one word is forever present, Decorating! He lives in fear of the dreaded âPaintbrushâ and the colour charts presented by The Missus do terrible things to his eyes, so our old friend needed something else to keep his spirits up and himself busy to avoid the Decorating.
He likes a noggin or two of beer does our Baz, preferring the beer of the cask and preferably locally brewed whenever possible, but found small brown bottles were appealing to him more and more, so he decided to return to the once familiar territory of some 30 years ago, Home Brewing. Secretly over a few weeks he started to accumulate a stash of the bottles brown in a hidden corner of the garage, when feeling particularly brave he would mention as a quiet aside to The Missus his old hobby and he found The Missus was not too averse to the idea, in fact she admitted that some of his brews were very good!
Whilst on holiday our mate and The Missus went to Islay, the home of his favourite single malt and came across a small local brewery and when out and about treating The Missus to lunches in as many pubs as he could find, Baz kept tempting her with beer of the cask and one evening he fed The Missus strong potions containing Bacardi and not much coke, while he heavily fortified himself with large draughts of Lagavulin he mentioned the small brewery and was thinking of returning to Home Brewing, The Missus actually suggested our man should âgive it a goâ!
Once home from holiday Baz was no longer having to hide out in The Den or spend time out in the garden to avoid Decorating, our man turned to âtinternet to gather information for his quest to return to Home Brewing. He found a strange place, THBF, where there were many not unlike him, but they brewed beers in many forms and had strange names to conceal their identities, no doubt from their 'Missusâ as well, for they like Baz will live in fear of this forbidding creature. The clansmen of THBF appeared from places far and wide, even Yorkshire and from abroad like Scotland, but they were a kindly bunch and made our friend welcome. Baz read and read, remembering familiar terms from times past, like wort and sparging, a language The Missus wouldnât understand and this would fill Bazâs heart with excitement and enthusiasm. Having some small amounts of coinage saved from his pocket money supplied by The Missus, our man had saved enough for a couple of kits, for this was familiar territory to our friend and he had high hopes of some success.
Baz became a frequenter of THBF and started posting and asking questions of many, all of whom were helpful and encouraging, there was a kindly chap, Wez, who seemed to be the chieftain of this rabble who would speak with Baz in the room of chatting, they talked about times past, when Baz was a young man and visited gatherings of strange beings, rock stars, who congregated in small groups and made strange sounds which made the hairy ones shake and cheer, but mostly the talk was of brewing of ale and somewhere called The Dark Side.
The Dark Side sounded a mysterious place and quite dangerous, for it seems that once someone has crossed to The Dark Side there is no return, they refer to it in hushed tones and only refer to it by the initials âAGâ brewing and talk of many ingredients being mixed to produce fine beers. Simple it is they say, but great care must be taken otherwise there is the risk of infection by the wild yeasties which will ruin the beers of the careless. But it is a side that appealed to Baz even after such a short while and only on his second kit which was still in the FV, it was a journey Baz found he wished to take, lead on by the Cheiftain Wez and his many followers.
There is another far more dangerous place on The Dark Side, which will require much coinage of followers of the Dark Side, it is The Shiney Place, those beautiful objects constructed of the steel stainless which shine out to the upturned eyes of those who have crossed to the dark side and wish for more, very quickly Baz was drawn to The Shiney Place and The Den was cleared and his small but hopefully workable brewery was born, pleas went out to a friend who brought him a shiney boiler, Baz even managed to scrape together some coinage from The Missus which allowed him a shiney wort chiller, the rest was scrounged from friends and contacts in the wastelands of the place Baz used to call Work, all that is left is for the makings to arrive then our friend will well and truly have crossed over to The Dark Side from which he may never return.
The only thing that is needed now for all the followers of the Dark Side, both old and new, is something that cannot be taught or learned from books............ patience, for even when brewed, time is needed before the potions of the Dark Side can be sampled :whistle:
I do :lol:
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