Solemn oath seer of visions rewrites the hazy triple playbook

Vision no Scarlett

In February we find ourselves smack in the midst of Triple IPA season. The cascading crystal malts of loneliness washing upon the shores of Valentines Day dry hopping creates the aserose riptide of this resinous season. He gave you “the ick” and I blame Pliny the Younger.

Every February breweries all roll out with the Shasta Youngers so locals can polish an apple on their lapels and opine “well you know what’s ACTALLY BETTER than Pliny-“ and Triple IPAs see a spike in sales. The pumpkin beers of dry January’s conclusion. The screenshot of your vaccine card is six left swipes away from your nudes.

What bout HAZY triple IPAs? Sure Other Half and Monkish used to butter their oat croissants with them but that’s a polarizing orange Julius beast to wrangle. They either turn out too sweet like Theraflu and orange fun dip, or far too resinous and soapy. The body can swing all over the place from dried out egg drop soup to flabby almond milk.

Solemn Oath does a very good but not excellent iteration of this wildly challenging style. The chief virtue of a hazy triple is usually “IT TASTES LIKE A SINGLE.” The same way excellent Vodka tastes like, well nothing. The grapefruit pith, creamy froth of lemon meringue in a food processor, swallow that imparts wateriness and gristy goodness. It is all calculated. It has that “golden retriever pick me energy” that people born in the 2000s love to pathologize.

The nose gives you a smack of that citrus pixie stick mixed with hanging tree car freshener. The carb and sustain which is insanely hard to nail on these is done so exceedingly well here. If your hazy turns instantly tepid with no retention, just lying there like broth, it is about to be a zesty trudge.

Naperville was voted the second best place to live by Money magazine, which probably means wealthy, white middle upper class with “affordable” homes if I am taking a wild guess since I have never been to the Napes. You live here wear Arcteryx tell people about your night at Nomi and have a hydroflask with NPR donor stickers on it. But the edge is you love hazy triple IPAs. U so bad. Sometimes you ride the L and put it on your IG stories. Ur dangerous.

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