It’s hilarious because craft beer enthusiasts possess a certain snobbery that tends to come out while drinking, much like art lovers remarking on a fine painting or rich housewives opining on Byzantine architecture. So when they’re drinking and having a good time, they tend to speak of the rarified beer they’ve had as though they are noteworthy conquests. What ensues is an exchange of one-upmanship that gravitates to the extreme.
Basically, here’s what a group of hopheads (people who love hoppy beer) sound like when they’re drinking beer:
“I haven’t tried Sam Adam’s Rebel IPA. How is it?”
“It’s all right. I’ve had it a few times. Wanna good Boston IPA? Try Paully Revere’s Hop Horse. It’s got a strong hop profile and is just slightly bitter.”
“Yeah, Hop Horse is pretty good. Speaking of bitter, have you tried Tipsy Farmer’s APA? It’s an arugula pale ale. Like consuming a bowl of raw, un-dressinged arugula. Fantasic.”
“Sounds like a weird one, Jeff. I’ve been getting into the more citrusy IPAs.”
“Oh sure, love those. Entire Orchard out of south Florida is making some good stuff. They take the juice of an entire orchard of fruit to make one bottle of beer. Highly concentrated stuff. You have to scoop the beer out with a spoon but it’s like chomping into a fresh tangerine. Amazing.”
“Citrus ain’t bad, but I’ve been digging the piney-flavored IPAs. Lumberjack’s Mouth of Woods IPA is a great one. They use 13 hop varieties from the Yakima valley, then dry hop each batch with 42 bales of fresh pine needles. Redolent of air fresheners and smacks the palate of turpentine. Edgy.”
“Yes, it’s damn piney, but not boozy enough for my tastes. I like ones like Burping Bob’s Beer Liquor. It’s 39% ABV and only comes in singles so you don’t die. That’s my kind of hop bomb.”
“Oh, if you think that’s a bomb, you gotta try Putin’s Hop Scuds. It’s just wet, whole-cone hops loaded into a cruise missile. They top it off with a dash of weapons-grade plutonium, which I assume is why I twitched for three days after drinking it. So awesome.”
You get the point. If you’re a craft beer enthusiast, beware of how ridiculous you may sound—and just own it. Tell me all about your extreme adventures, and I’ll tell you mine. We’ll take pride in quaffing brews that everyone else spits out.