Sacramento has a weird melange of politicians, Davis hippies, central valley detritus chugging monster in slammed Silverados, and displaced Bay Area assholes who had the audacity of dreaming of owning a 3br palatial track home.

Aside from the likes of SUDWERK, there wasn’t a ton in the way of simmering whales.  Sure people would pop in on their way to Russian River or 50/50 in Truckee, but it hasn’t been a major beer destination.  Well, cat’s out of the bag because the 916 has been swilling their own supply in furtive sips.

MOONRAKER LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

I can say without qualification that NorCal [ibid cencal] now has a Monkish room of their own, a rhizome with a view. The irony of these alpha acid transgressions is that Monkish was deemed an RC Cola Treehouse of sorts, and now we have a third generation immigrant in the 4 year old NEIPA wave. Just look at that shit though, without London ale III and a sloppy 20% flour addition, this beer slays.  Sure it has turbidity, but it doesn’t look like turkey gravy.  The hue is radiant like the inside of Marcellus Wallace’s briefcase.  There’s frothy waterpark foam and tangerine dehydrated body piss tones.  I will take watersports loads on my face of this nonstop like a deviant Craigslist NSA listing.

The nose is wonderfully balanced, not in the pejorative “midwest IPA” sense.  I mean that it doesn’t dominate on either the bittering or the late addition and has a sort of simcoe scissoring El Dorado nose, then finishes citrusy with Motueka meets 7C on the swallow.  DIPAs can be cloying and syrupy to offset the oils, but jesus this is refreshing.

I drank this in an Uber on the way to a sketch comedy show, but suffice it to say the single YOJO is almost preferrable to the DOJO in that it is the refined refreshment without the higher abv and the long pinacea drag.  It is like listening to hoptonez at a reasonable level on your RhizomesByDre headphones.  You get cut melon, overripe Cuties (not sure if the entire nation gets these Satsuma shits), grapefruit and a honeydew dripping in THC vape oils.  It is intensely crushable and, I can only imagine that this post will fuck things up for locals, so maybe the deal isn’t all it will be cracked up to be.  As it stands, you can scoop these for pennies on the MA dollar.  Drill them like a press and cast all fucks to the cones.

I might be intrigued by these boys at Track 7 the most.  Gaudy marketing aside, the product is incredibly similar to the likes of Hazy and Sticky Green, so much so that it feels like it was even benchmarked to a certain degree.  The mouthfeel is king here, silky, frothy orange julius whip that you get at the mall.  Pair this bitch with a Cinnabon and walk around the house tryna cop numbers from girls in ur grade. The nose is crushed cantaloupe, yard trimmings, ficus, and has the sustain of a Robeks Juice operating inside of a Conifer nursery.  The abv is masked flawlessly and I could get into some dangerous Amazon purchases with a four pack of these.  Con Air criterion collection and a Miami Heat jersey showing up at my door three day later, im still reeking of Warrior and confused as fuck.

This will be the new ushering in of the uninitiated if only for the creamy dreamsicle mouthfeel.  This will bring the beta casuals into the hop game like Peggle and Dance Moms.  Take a break from importing ice cold cans from north of the wall, Massholes have legal weed now anyway, so they dont care about lupulinsulin shots.  Chase these, or drink Lagunitas sucks and add a tablespoon of baking powder.  Them cones is oily and soakin wet.