There’s a hell of a lot of apple skins in this beer.
I might be dissing a stone classic here, but I’m not overly keen on this.
It’s the big harsh alcohol burn on the back of my tongue that’s stripping away quite a lot of flavour.
The aroma is gassy flowers and spiced pears, and the malts are nice.
All sticky runny honey and warm French bread.
The hops are earthy, flower stems and resinous sapling wood.
And all of that would be OK if it weren’t for the alcoholic lump hammer that bashes this beer into a bruised pulp.
Oh well, you can’t win ’em all.