Why is it that our mouths water at the mention of a XXX mild from 1959 even when it is accompanied by notes underlining its sweet, watery weakness?
What power of nostalgia is it that makes us imagine a beer from 60 years ago will taste more exciting than the same kind of beers today?
We suppose it’s because, being unattainable, it stands in for every pint of mild in history, or rather the ideal pint of mild, in ideal condition, served in the ideal pub, in ideal company.
The imagination tends towards perfection, constructing composites from only happy memories.
In reality, if we had the wherewithal to travel back to Suffolk at the dawn of the 1960s, there’s every chance we’d find ourselves confronted with mediocre pints, or even a nasty ones.
And, underwhelmed, we’d yearn for the good old days.