Bishops Finger is:
1) A signpost in Kent, once serving to point Christian pilgrims
toward the tomb of Saint Thomas of Canterbury.
2) A Kentish beer named after said signpost.
3) A really kinky sex move, according to Urban Dictionary.
The sex move sounds disgusting. The beer I like. It’s the third beer
I’ve sampled from Britain’s oldest brewery – Shepherd Neame – and as
seems to be the case with all of Shepherd Neame’s beers, Bishops
Finger has historical significance. It was first brewed in the year
that malt rationing came to an end in Britain, because heck, more
malts! A resultantly strong brew, it fills your mouth with that
lovely, full bodied, toasted, caremelly maltiness. Not overpoweringly,
but the right amount. My nose detects it as more in the bitter
direction of fruity, which comes from the hops. And there’s a lot of
hops, mind you, which makes this stuff bitter as hell. If the only
beer you’re used to drinking comes out of a can labelled Kingfisher or
Budweiser or Foster’s, you’d rather stick to a more moderately
flavoured lager than this strong British ale. If you’re a writer
though, you’ll love the bitterness. Ha ha, joke. But really, it’s a
characterful kind of bitter, giving way to a mellow fruitiness which
comes from where I’m not too sure, but there’s a distinct sourness
going on which suggests some citrusy ingredients. It’s also a good
beer to look at, with it’s almost bourbon like colouration and
headstrong nature outside the bottle. I washed this down with a half
tablespoon of orange marmalade; the good, not-too-sweet kind of
marmalade with plenty of little bits of orange peel. Great fucking
combination.
Even with that ridiculously purple label, Bishops Finger is a good,
strong, satisfying drink. Best drunk with a beard on your face.
Mehta Kya Kehta? 