Prologue: MB’s balls dropped this week, no hang on, MB dropped the ball this week and forgot to buy the beer, so there was no drinking in the big green building. As we had exhausted the boutique beer offering at our favourite watering hole we instead headed to the shit overpriced pub, or should that be wine bar for this week’s tipple. $28 later we had 4 Birra Moretti stubbies in our hands (research tells me it would have cost us $14 at the bottle shop around the corner)
Appearance: It was in a bottle so how the hell could I tell, I tipped some of it into a nearby ashtray and it looked, um, ashy.
Flavour: Not really there, It had no guts, no fortitude, kind of like a Italian soldier. It went down faster that the slutty Italian girl at her younger sister’s wedding. It had no aftertaste and we kinda forgot we were drinking it before we actually finished it.
Packaging: It contained various Italian words, probably to suggest Iltalianess. But most importantly it has a guy with a mustache on the bottle and if Tipples have taught you anything it’s that the more mustaches around the better the beer.
Food Suggestions: Something that pretends to be Italian but is actually shit, say a Margarita pizza, or a chicken parma from the Southern Cross Hotel in South Melbourne.
Scores: Nah mate, just a butchers