Around February every brewery with grist to mill sets out and drops their own “zomg PtY destroyer” and it becomes this anomalous season of endless triple ipas right around Valentine’s Day when ex-bando beer nerds are getting the most mileage out of their Real Dolls. 

Tipa is an inherently clunky socks and sandals kinda style, not quite comfortable and very easily falling in the oppressively tactless aesthetic. This beer is not quite Pliney the Hypedest, but it is unquestionably well crafted. There is an overriding lack of balance and aquanet ethanol waft that warms the whole squad like hood whippets. It has a massive pine and mandarin presence, there’s a honey like some GMO enhanced Hopslam. The middle swallow is artfully dialed in, arugula with blood orange fernet. It’s extremely complex but almost too massive for its own good, crushing like a Dark Souls boss but so fulfilling to complete.