This is Pampers finest hour!
The Department of Morality always sees a likeness in any newborn. “Oh, he has his father’s eyes” or “doesn’t she look like Aunt Iris”. I just don’t get it. To me every baby looks like Winston Churchill, especially if they are filling their pampers (the baby, not Churchill). Some would call that a “passing” resemblance. Long term financial liabilities that eat, poop and squawk when they’re hungry. Sounds like our butt dragging ankle biter of a dog.
This fat baby is a continually hopped 100 IBU offering** from those fine folks at Refined Fool. Better brace for the bitters.
A golden pour. All babies have big heads and this one is no exception. A juicy aroma, the expected hopfest did not show up on the nose. Battening the hatches for IBU impact. Juicy yes, hoppy a bit, bitters a tad, balanced, hell yeah! A dry aftertaste naturally leads me to a second swig, as if there was ever any doubt. The big bad bitters did’nt show up to the party, baby bitters came in their place. Juicy citrus body, bitters slight and a crisp slightly hoppy finish, all very nice. Much more enjoyable than changing diapers or cleaning up a wet burp. This sure is one foolishly good IPA.
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