The common Klingon male isn’t known for his sweet tooth. Lieutenant Commander Worf is an abominable exception to that rule. Though he may mangle your petulant human face, there’s no denying Worf child-like glee at the sight of a sugary pint of Hop Henge.
It’s not that other IPAs aren’t sweet to the tonguetouch. It’s that Hop Henge punches you square in the nostrils with hops and then fails to deliver an instantaneous bitter blast. Think of it like snowshoeing on a glacier with Chad Ochocinco. You have a pretty decent idea of what to expect but once yer out there blazing a bright black and orange trail on the mountain…things are hellishly different. Chad probably has a magical cloak or tiny transporter hidden in a utility belt because he keeps disappearing and reappears only to clam yer frightened ass down. That would be the metaphor of the essential balance between the sugar and hops, by the way.
Hop Henge isn’t the kind of brew that makes you want to perform data analysis but it’s better for it. The rigor that drives abbey trappist monks insane is a far cry from the thoughtful normality of this IPA. The wonderful folks at Deschutes are going to let you have a go at entertaining yourself on this one. Mull it over in your nogginmeat all reclusive-like, then revel in the astute observations that you’ve contemplated. TELL NO ONE!
Final words of advice: don’t slam this, don’t waste this, and don’t let yer friends have a sip.
Or Worf.
- 2 years ago
