I know when a beer is really really good because it makes me write silly things.
It works with me.
Gives me options to be creative.
I wrote the following review yesterday while sitting in the garden, my jaw agape at how brilliant this little bottle of beer is.
I read it through this morning and thought, “this is a bit silly.”
But it’s how the beer made me feel so I’m going to publish it unedited anyway.
Oh, and by the way, there’ll be a feature on Cloudwater soon.
Made with “a mouthful of new harvest American Hops” (forgetting that Green Bullet is a NZ variety for a minute), Cloudwater’s IPA is, in a word, majestic.
The smell is fresh and fruity, chewy sweets, passion fruit and guava, and the beer looks beautiful in the late afternoon sun as it sits a dense orange in my glass.
It may look innocent, but this beer hides something deviant.
The hops dance and sing, running naked and rampant all over your face, their willies dangling in the breeze.
And they’re big willies too.
Scary in fact.
Hefty and glowing, packing a punch full to bursting with mango and melon, grapefruit, tobacco, lime and mandarin.
Oozing sticky resinous sap, they stare you down while the slick sticky malting sneaks up behind you and glues you to your seat with gloopy toffee crumpets.
This is beer porn of the highest order, classy, well lit and hot as hell.
The finish is a seductively long dry bitter kiss that leaves you breathless and defiled.
Source: Ales By Mail