Usually on my ride home when it’s raining and my 45 minute commute turns into an hour and a half.
Occasionally I actually surprise myself by holding a note for more than a split second but more often than not I appall my own senses with my utter lack of, nay opposition to, all that is sweet and wonderful in aural bliss. Doesn’t help that my wife sings with the soul of a diva and voice of an angel.
Despite my failings in this regard I’m going to sing some praises for Bear Republic’s Red Rocket. Here we go… ready?
Told you I was shite at singing. That’l learn ya.
Moving on. Rocket poured crazy dark plum with a thin head.
The aroma was predominantly of dark sugar, sort of like molasses. It smelled heavily of hoppy, tropical juicebox. Anyone else remembering their feeble, schoolyard attempts to puncture the slanted Capri Sun juice pouch?
The flavor was striking. Silky smooth body slipped right past the bouncers, no ID, no VIP pass, no cover charge, all attitude in a mini-skirt and a strut Frau Klum would applaud. Great balance of sugary malt swiftly dried up followed by great hop flavor and rounded out with subtle, building bitterness.
Ok Bear Republic, you’ve got yet another one through. But that’s it, no more. I can’t be seen to be biased towards any particular breweries. I have readers to get and then not lose. Stop making great beer and I’ll stop jizzing my pants about it. Deal!