The Dawn Chorus: We tried a Guinness shandy so you don’t have to

Plus the quiz of the day, swimming the Channel three times to raise money for the Garden Museum, and why the moon looks so big and bright.

That’s no moon…

If you like staring at the moon, and are not a werewolf who would suffer severe side-effects, then the next few days (or, rather, evenings) will be rather delightful. That’s because we are in the midst of the Hunter’s Moon, which this month happens to be a super moon. In plain English, that means the moon will look bigger and brighter than usual. Also a bit orange.

But why? The moon looks bigger because it is closer, due to its elliptical orbit around our planet. And as a result of it being closer, it will also look brighter. Combine that with something called the ‘moon illusion’, whereby the eye is tricked into thinking the moon is larger than it is by the presence of buildings, trees and hills in the foreground, it will look very very large. And so, we have the Hunter’s Supermoon. 

The forbidden beverage

Adrian Chiles, the nation’s best columnist, has uncorked another classic piece of prose for our consumption. Today’s column featured a headline so foul that it will forever be scarred into my retinas. And now, I shall scar it into yours. ‘A Guinness shandy? The request that stunned my favourite pub into silence’ writes our Adrian, recklessly, as he once again tests the limits of my sanity. 

We couldn’t help but click through, to read the story of one part Guinness to one part lemonade. You should read it too, just to understand how his genius works. The king never misses.

Recommended videos for you

However, there is something ‘missing’: a description of what this foul beverage actually tastes like. We are nothing if not thorough here at Country Life dot co dot uk, so I sent out two the finest Guinness drinkers I know to wrap their lips around this monstrosity and report back.

‘I actually heard about Guinness shandy in a pub in Richmond about six months ago. I thought it was a wind-up and had a brief argument with a bloke who I was convinced was having me on. Then I got a WhatsApp on a Thursday asking me to go and try it out at lunch. As a champion of the free press, how could I resist? Fortunately, I’d just run a workshop around “growth mindsets,” so I was psychologically ready for my horizons to be broadened.

Let me start off by noting my pub of choice, *** ****** ***, initially refused my order. Lemonade and Guinness do not mix well — gases and such. But anyway, I managed to twist his arm, and we worked out the blend. The barman and I were surprised at the retention of the classic dark colour and the crisp white head. Very passable as an unmolested Guinness. The aroma was familiar with a slightly sickly sweet finish. You will still taste the Guinness to begin with, but then the lemonade comes barging in, turning the broody stout into a happy hour. The slightly sweet aftertaste actually tempts you back for more, and I was surprised at my disappointment once I reached an empty glass.

Overall, take it or leave it. I won’t be rushing back to order; it didn’t leave that much of an impression. I think the main takeaway is, don’t order if you want your bartender to like you’ – Tom Buchanan

‘Trepidation is the only way I can describe my feelings as I cycled from Liverpool Street to Blackfriars to try the Not-Yet-Viral Guinness Shandy. I’d already heard that my fellow Guinness drinking Guinea pig had initially had his request of “half a pint of flat lemonade, topped up to the brim with Guinness” refused by the landlord at a very proud and for various reasons unnamed Blackfriars pub (on threat of barring, impalement or other such medieval punishment).

‘At initial inspection you’d be none the wiser that this dark mistress on the bar held the sweet syrupy embrace of half a pint of Schweppes lemonade; if not for the Landlord’s distressed and furrowed brow, this would be a regular gulp of the nation’s favourite stout.

‘Verdict? As an all-weather drinker of Guinness I wanted to hate it. I rolled my eyes when I was handed the drink and gave the staff a look as if to say, “The things you do for decent copy eh?”.

‘…And yet; it was refreshing. It was sugary, sure; but something about the lemonade did definitely add an angle to my favourite beer, as yet unconsidered. Like Heath Ledger’s turn as The Joker – the sweet, citrus kick was a strange, startling, surreal take on a classic. But when viewed alone, as a separate piece of work (let’s not overstep the mark and say “art” here…) it did work.

‘Will it be everyone’s tipple of choice – the verdict is out. But when it’s 32 degrees out and I need an extra refreshing fill of iron – I may just be surreptitiously whispering for a lemonade top on my Guinness.’ – Ben Gedye