[jambutty]

On Saturday mornings on his way home from work (Saturday mornings was part of the working week in those days) my dad would bring home a bottle of Mackeson’s stout, where he would pour it into a glass and stick a red hot poker into it. I was allowed to drink some of the froth.

I did have a spell where Black Velvet tickled my palette, or at least the poor man’s version, being Cider and Guinness instead of Champagne and Guinness.