Beer beer beer

Stopping in at the Adnams 'cellar and home' shop at Holkham, I had a revelation. When wandering the 'cellar' part (much more interesting, there is only so much excitement one can summon for napkins, while beer, wine and gin is a source of constant delight) I saw that their idea of preparing for Christmas was to try and flog more beer.

Rather than try the genius marketing trick I have always favoured when justifying loading the supermarket trolly to the point when the back axle is dragging along the floor of wondering aloud 'do I want to be forever remembered as the host of the party where the booze ran out?' (now though, with the 'Shed Red' sitting maturing in a cupboard, I fear being the host who's guests we reduced to drinking the home brew), they go for the straightforward 'a keg and a tray, it's the Adnams party way'.

That's right, a keg and a tray. Not a keg. Not a tray. A keg and a tray! I am now gravely concerned that without a keg and a tray, I won't be able to party the Adnams way, which I presume means falling asleep pissed behind the sofa at some point.

I have always rather liked kegs, one has has that fabulous need to finish the damn thing on the same night that it is tapped, or it loses fizz or turns to slurry or something. I suppose it harks back to when we had sensible licensing hours and drinking against the clock was a real and valued skill.

Also, one can get several kegs and pretend to be a landlord. Is their anything quite so satisfying as barring one of your own mates?