I am not a fan of IPA (India Pale Ale). Unthinkingly epitomizes the dark side of American craft beer – the indefatigable urge they seem to have to shove more hops than humanly necessary into a batch of beer whose body can’t balance the influx of all those alpha acids. The beers seem hop bloated, the way A Game of Thrones is bloated with characters and unnecessary sex and death.
Of course, I can’t seem to stop drinking them either. Just like Martin can’t seem to stop writing.
So here’s a local IPA. I wanted to like it.
Yeah. This was the only one I nearly couldn’t finish. The balance was right off.