Warm Beer

Last weekend in the scorching heat we ventured over to the wilds of Oakland for a free sustainable local food festival. With the sweat running down my legs and my skin being lightly sautéed, we sat on the ferry which would take us directly to Jack London Square where the festival was being held, appreciating what would be the only cool breeze of the day.

When we got there, it was in full swing and all we had to decide was what to eat for lunch from the many delicious looking and smelling options. I decided to graze and try out a couple of smaller things I had never had before, whereas Mike leapt straight in for a spicy sausage. Both strategies had their individual merits.

We had bought tickets in advance for the beer tent which promised eight generous servings of local artisan beers with a souvenir glass for $20. On the day, this seemed to have been downgraded to four half pints or less, depending on the generosity of the server (they were largely hot and bothered and seemed to have left their generous shoes at home), and a souvenir jam jar cum glass with a logo on which after going through the dishwasher has now disappeared. Not the jar, the logo.

Value for money or not, it was a lovely day as we casually drank our beer from our logo clad jam jars and shade hopped our way around the square. In between eating and drinking we sat and listened to a lecture on growing your own food and I closed my eyes and dreamt of my own smallholding, collecting still warm eggs from my chickens, inhaling the peculiar smell of a perfectly ripe tomato and sitting down to a perfect meal most of which I had grown myself.

Then I woke up and found myself in a far too crowded car on a freeway in Oakland, probably breaking the law, and definitely a story for another day.