On a day which saw knights and dames return to Australian society, attending a Grammy-style awards ceremony to celebrate pictures of beer taken on Instagram felt like a very sane and thoughtful choice. The event was part of the Brewsvegas juggernaut, which seems to be storming its way through the city at the moment – upending little pots of XXXX Gold and (hopefully) their drinkers, alike.
Judd and I bought tickets to the event, held at Tippler’s Tap in Newstead, where awards were doled out to punters who’d snapped a photo on Instagram deemed to best reflect the spirit of Brewsvegas. The ceremony was actually held in the carpark, which had been expertly converted into a space that felt incredibly like an actual awards ceremony.
The awards part of the evening, hosted by guys from The Scratch, was very much unlike the Grammy’s, in that it was highly enjoyable. The highlight for me would have been the strange, often funny, and sometimes sad poetry recited by Matt Hofmann. Wow.
Poetry and Instagram aside, the real winner was the three-course meal with matching beers. By the time the third course rolled around, I was practically calling my parents and thanking them for conceiving me.
First course was a plate of black pudding croquettes, mint smashed peas, and some red ale chilli jam, served with the mind-blasting Monster Mash Hopped Out Red. Judd, whose heart lies with red-amber ales, was positively gushing.
Main course was a smoked bacon, imperial stout and lamb pie, which was perfectly matched with The Grifter and Tippler’s Iron Wizard Black IPA. The richness of the pie teamed so well with the smooth and roasty IPA – they could have run together for miles.
Dessert provided the crescendo of the evening with a baked apple and walnut filo, served with the wonderfully smoky Schlenkerla Dopplebock and saison ice cream. This goodness was matched with Anderson Valley Hop Ottin IPA. Although I was initially curious as to the matching of the desert with an IPA, upon tasting the two together, I was swiftly converted and realised the folly of my doubt.
Tippler's put on a great event and I walked away so deeply affected that if I ever see a poster for a $9-chicken-parmy-and-Corona-at-The-Blerghhh-Hotel, I'll probably spew all over it.
Why can't it be Brewsvegas every week?