One of my earliest memories as a toddler was visiting my Uncle Bill and Aunt Iris. I ended up being the entertainment for the adults because when I tried to say Aunt Iris it came out as Aunt Arse. They laughed and laughed and asked me to repeat her name again and again. I’m not sure if Aunt Iris was laughing and when I saw her over the years I never had the nerve to ask.
As for the flower, the French adore it but Sammy Hagar would be disappointed to know that Iris’ come in every colour of the rainbow, except red. * Another fun fleur-de-lis fact, bees, butterflies and hummingbirds love them, but they’re toxic to those buffalo breathed, leg humping, daily dumping, four legged floor flushers inaccurately touted as man’s best friend. Your Iris education complete, you are now Jeopardy ready. ** Time to Slake my thirst on some spring sprung suds.
A hazy OJ pour, thick as thieves with a buxom bright blossoming head of white. An aroma of hoppy citrus grapefruit on the nose. First taste is a great citrus stone fruit juicer, with a malt funk middle and some hoppy happy mild bitters to boot. Some dry juicy slightly tangy junk in the trunk goes nicely with those hoppy grapefruit bitters. It’s a busy brew, lots going on, but it keeps it all together in a cirque du soleil worthy balancing act.
By the time I was done I realized I hadn’t subjected these saucy suds to the big swig test, but not to worry, I was happy just to savour the flavour.
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