There are certain things in this life that we can just take for granted. Immutable and immobile laws of reality.
Sunrises and sunsets. Death and taxes. Cats are finicky. Water is wet. I don't like hoppy beers.
Today I was at Rich O's after work, wondering about something and enjoying a beer. At about the time I ordered a second pint of the same beer, Roger (The owner of Rich O's) came up to me. Incredulous, he asked, "Do you really like that?"
Since I'd never lie about beer, I had to admit that I did. It seemed to be a bit more citrusy than I remembered, but it was still pretty damn good.
Roger then commented that it was, "Loaded with hops."
I guess I kinda sorta knew that already. It was an APA after all. But this isn't a normal hoppy APA. See, to me, hoppy has always meant bitter - especially in the finish. And this particular beer isn't bitter at all. Nope, instead of the usual piney hops, this one has what I can only call floral hops. I'm sure there's a more technical term than that, but floral is good enough for this humble venue in which I write.
Three Floyds Gumballhead (53).
If you think you don't like hops, well then maybe you're wrong.
I know I was.
There's a first time for everything, I suppose.