God, I love Belgian beer. And, do you know, the sad thing is, I'd forgotten. Forgotten the fruit beers, the blonde beers, and the brune beers. Forgotten the good nights and the bad hangovers.
The beer in Abu Dhabi's bars is usually Heineken, Amstel or Fosters, and since I'm on a diet I don't usually touch the stuff (I stick to the whisky -- much healthier). But when it was suggested that a few of us head out to the Belgian Cafe at the Intercon for mussels and beer, I abandoned the diet (For one night only, of course) and jumped at the chance.
As soon as I started on my first Leffe and savoured the rich malty taste I was transported back to my wayward early twenties in Inverness and Blackfriers Bar on Academy street.
It was at Blackfriers that I tasted my first blackcurrant, peach, cherry and strawberry beers, and as I recall I sampled them all on the same night. Afterwards I washed them down with a few eclectically flavoured shots of vodka. My, how I laughed as I staggered home and, my, how I cried in the morning.
My visit to the Belgian Cafe was a lot more sensible, but I still enjoyed myself, and in the morning, just to authenticate the experience, I could still taste sickly hints of peach.
The beer in Abu Dhabi's bars is usually Heineken, Amstel or Fosters, and since I'm on a diet I don't usually touch the stuff (I stick to the whisky -- much healthier). But when it was suggested that a few of us head out to the Belgian Cafe at the Intercon for mussels and beer, I abandoned the diet (For one night only, of course) and jumped at the chance.
As soon as I started on my first Leffe and savoured the rich malty taste I was transported back to my wayward early twenties in Inverness and Blackfriers Bar on Academy street.
It was at Blackfriers that I tasted my first blackcurrant, peach, cherry and strawberry beers, and as I recall I sampled them all on the same night. Afterwards I washed them down with a few eclectically flavoured shots of vodka. My, how I laughed as I staggered home and, my, how I cried in the morning.
My visit to the Belgian Cafe was a lot more sensible, but I still enjoyed myself, and in the morning, just to authenticate the experience, I could still taste sickly hints of peach.
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