BEER OF THE WEEK: CELEBRATOR DOPPELBOCK

by Chris Hammond

Hailing from Germany, Celebrator's reputation as a classic of its style proceeded it. Thick and treacly with a perfect sweet malt smell, I was expecting it to hit quite hard, especially with it's hefty 6.7% volume. But it trickled down my booze raddled throat with total ease. Smooth, moreish, potent, and overbearingly original this Deutsch delight justly deserves its position on the beer podium

Seek it out, sample it and surprise yourself that such a rich beer style can be so easily supped.

PUB REVIEW: THE ROYAL DUNKELD

DUNKELD



by Chris Hammond

Local legend has it that not far from Dunkeld a hermit lived in a cave inhabited by a ferocious demon. These days it would appear that regional misfits prefer the Royal Dunkeld – a pub bereft of spirits of all forms other than alcoholic.

That said there is an eerie feel to this otherwise homely bar, mostly due to the creepy wooden carved faces peering across from the wall. These odd wooden voyeurs complete with pipes and hats gaze manically from their vantage point at the back of the room, putting the drinker more in mind of a Bavarian backwater than a British bourgeois boozer.

That said the curious décor can’t detract from what is in most respects a top end watering hole. The traditional, well portioned food, decent real ale selection and superb courtyard beer garden all help make this place a good bet for prolonged quaffing. The fact it also doubles up as a hotel means the staff’s service is impeccable and the steady stream of travellers makes for an interesting multinational mix and a good atmosphere. With this in mind the Royal Dunkeld comes recommended, just remember that when full it’s fine but can be eerie when empty.

PUB REVIEW: THE PERTH ARMS

DUNKELD



by Chris Hammond

Whilst the weekend appeal of Dunkeld is awesomely obvious, watching the regulars recall decade old stories of small time banality loses its charm fairly swiftly.

When describing a rural bar so steeped in local tradition, it would be truculent to suggest its inhabitants resembled real life copies of Wicker Man extras. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t. From the gibbering tweed bonneted geriatrics to the hundred yard stares of the vacant youths, the Perth Arms clientele were hardly high class.

Slap bang in the middle of Dunkeld’s fine old centre, The Perth Arms is a basic bar for basic people. Outdated jukebox and pool table aside, the only other entertainment came in the form of a big screen. And yet despite the dull permanent Sunday night atmosphere, gleefully stereotypical tartan curtains and seemingly deliberately uninspiring drinks choice – this place does have some sort of bizarre backwards charm.

Whether this comes from the roaming leash free dogs, or a live feed of a wild osprey nest beaming across from the TV I couldn’t say, but the flawed quaintness of this dour drinking den makes it more than acceptable for a pint, albeit a very quick one.