No preamble for this one. Let’s just get straight on with it. With beer this good there’s no time for pissing about…
Hoik off the cap, pour it out. Observe that topping of fluffy white head, check out the 15ish EBC golden colour.
Get down and dirty with that nose of yours, inhale deeply. What do you get? POW! Bright, bright hops: ozoney, bracing walks on deserted windswept beaches; tart lemon, comely sprigs of tarragon, the enticing pungent note of finest Dutch nederweit. Heady stuff indeed.
Taking a sip brings a brief sweet ‘n’ dry malt distraction before 50 or so IBUs of bitterness mounts an assault on your senses; but this is just the warm-up act…after that a ton of hoppy sour-grapefruit rinds and crushed pine needles queue up to prickle and provoke the back and sides of your tongue.
After a short while the bitterness is back upon you and redoubles as you swallow. The aftertaste is bitter and citrus-piney and goading you to drink again and again.
Punk IPA is like this, but not as joined up. Goose Island IPA is modern classic. Don’t buy it if you see it…actively seek it out and buy it.
Oh and everything…
I got my bottle – the empty of which I wept over as I put it in the recycling bin – for £1.80 from everyone’s favourite supermarket shysters: Sainsbury’s*.
(*I am expecting a letter from their solicitors soon. But hey, Sainsbury’s, there’s only one thing worse than being talked about and that’s not being talked about. There…does that help?)