Ton Overmars is out of St. Bernardus Prior. "Het rooie is niet te krijgen, meneer." Damn. Another St. Bernardus crisis.
OK, it's nothing like as serious as the Abt Apocalypse. When Abt went missing from the Overmars shelves for more than a week. Trauma? A near-death experience, more like. Yet Prior plays its part in my drinking day. Sure, the first cap to pop when I pop in the door is an Abt's. Taking my coat off wouldn't be the same without it. But once my dm's* are parked and the second Abt is a whistling empty on the patio, I feel like a change of pace. Prior's perfect.
It has that St. Bernardusy thing going on. How would you describe that? Dead nice, that's it. And almost like Abt.
That's why panic set in when Ton told me the bad news. Aah, but he still had plenty of Pater. There was the solution. DIY Prior. 12+6 divided by two makes . . . . 9. That's close enough to 8 for me.
Now I wish I'd kept a real Prior for comparison. I reckon it's fairly close, judging from memory. (Which, as Mike will tell you, is a bit bollocky.) It'll do.
* they aren't real Doc Marten's. Solovair. Much better.
The St. Bernardus's:
A mouth full of South - When I moved to the south side of Glasgow fifteen years ago, I’d never lived quite so close to such a wide range of pubs before. I could nip out late at ni...
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