Hurray for summer ales - and ****** to the jobsworths!

Have you noticed? Every time the sun dares to poke through the grey blanket that, much of the time, passes for a UK sky some do-gooder pundit pops up with a dire warning. Apparently we are all about to come to a very, literally, sticky end. Unless We Take Precautions. They get paid well for this nonsense.

The latest I heard from a Radio 4 'expert' was that the best thing is to stay in doors during sunlight hours, preferably, if I got this right, smothered in sun screen just in case we have to stray outside and with tightly closed shutters (where do they live?) to prevent warm air cunningly sneaking in. We were also warned to lay off the coffee and tea (what?) - drinking, of course, at least three litres of water a day in case dehydration creeps up. Without getting into detailed bladder issues here, I wonder: is there time for that?

Ok, some of it makes sense; like checking on an elderly neighbour and maybe wearing a hat if you're being hit by the midday sun. But do we really need them to tell us this stuff?

The other target which, of course, it just wouldn't be right to leave out of any nanny state script is the demon alcohol. Don't - especially - touch the diabolical stuff in hot weather they preach. It's the shortest road to dehydration hell. Just as if pubs don't have enough to worry about at present.

Funnily enough this problem does not seems to effect Europe. Do the Italian's quit quaffing espresso? Do the sales of vino plummet in France? Do the Czechs stop shifting vast quantities of their lovely lager beer at the slightest hint of a few rays? I don't think so.

Celebrate British ales
And I have news for these preaching 'jobs-worths'. The summer is a great time to celebrate British ales. And what's more we should all get out there on a glorious sunny evening and do our stuff for the Great British Pub. What better than to sit in a pub garden and enjoy a cool beer (or Pimms for that matter) after a day at the coalface of recessionary Britain?

The times of cricket and warm ale as a UK PLC trademark are long gone. Light, fruity summer beers with just the right bitter undertone and served at the correct temperature are, in my view, probably the most exciting development of the British drinking scene in recent years. Not least because they are terrifically accessible with a plethora of the stuff about. And, largely, what good stuff it is too.

Some, like Moorhouse's Blond Witch, one of the pioneers, are so good they have become permanent ales. But a lot pop out just for the season and it gladdens the heart to see people who are usually lager or smoothflow merchants taking to them with a gusto.

Sat in my local the other day a chap who was usually committed to a keg mild got stuck into some Everard's Sunchaser with such enthusiasm it was sheer delight to witness. When that ran out he moved deftly onto the slightly pokier Daleside's Pride of England. Good man.

There are far too many to list here. But look out for anything from Roosters,of Knaresbrough, which does light fruity, hoppy beers all year round and terrific seasonals Butcombe Blond, Woods Summer That and Summer Pale from Acorn Brewery, which just screams 'cool, tasty and refreshing' as soon as you look at the pumpclip.

New B&P Ale arrives
Of course, the really new brew to do the job is Brunning & Price's very own Original Bitter. This ale took a while in the coming. Several months and several brews, in fact, after Phoenix first took the brief. Well that's committees for you. But, hey, splendidly, Original has appeared just in time for the long summer evenings. The time when you need a good tasty supping tipple at a strength (3.8%) which won't - anxious sun watchdogs should note - clang any big dehydration bells.

It looks damn good too. A traditional amber colour rather than blonde it has a fine tight white head that clings delightfully, ringing the glass with each gusty sup. Proper northern ale this. Light fruit and floral notes - hints of fresh grass if you swirl it - hit the nose and then gently dance on the tastebuds before a dry and tantalising bitter finish creeps quietly in.

A generous gift from Kent Golding hops, that bitterness develops nicely on those beery buds at the back, urging another creamy, fruity slug. Yes, the committee got it right in the end.

This is just the stuff to watch sliding down the glass, an orange sun slipping away or even a warm rain falling, as we count our beery summer blessings. Those pundits eh? They just don't know what they are missing.