Given my Doge I had an immediate affinity for the Dustin Hoffman pupabank. As much fun as I have with the 312 beer scene, this brewery and in particular this beer is operating in a weird counter orbit. In a realm steeped in sticky sugars and sigh-laden releases dripping with hype churning, off color stay legit. I already addressed this at length with Eeek! But this further codifies that idea. No promotion, all traction.
The acidity is masterfully poolchem sauv blanc, a minerality like chalky lime and zested kumquat. I love the hilarious divide between world class and basically the entire world class. A touch dry but oddly white grape skin and baller ass Sierra Mist. If you have had a bottle of Fantome Printemps or a masterful work of Moteuka, you will be ovulating over this gem.