In any hobby, rarity equals greatness or, at very least, the illusion of superiority. The preceding statement offers up an odd conundrum, of which both sides can be true: Just because a producer made a limited amount of something doesn’t mean it’s valuable or good; But, on the other end is another story. That being, holy shit this car/chair/beer is extraordinary, absolutely one-of-a-kind best thing I’ve ever driven/sat in/drank.
When robots eventually take over and an assembly line of IBM Watson historians study craft beer in 2017, they’ll definitely take note of this generations unsatisfiable appetite for IPA and Double IPA. A crass study of #beerhaul on any social media will tell us that this is true. You’ll find dozens of photos of beer drinkers with cases loaded into trunks of the newest, haziest, double-dry hoppiest beers they can afford.
(Side note: I don’t know where these Millenials get such deep pockets – or time on a Tuesday at noon – to purchase multiple $100 cases of beer, but I digress.)
It does make you wonder how much is too much. Do some people really drink just one style of beer? Do those same people really consume that much beer over the course of a weekend? Am I just old and curmudgeon-y and want people off my lawn? Maybe yes to all of these things; Maybe no; And even more likely perhaps the truth is somewhere residing in the middle.
It’s an attractive look that pairs well with Instagram filters and elicits a Pavlovian response.”
One of the biggest fish in the New England IPA pond is Boston, Massachusetts’s Trillium Brewing Co., who has a spot in Boston proper, but also in nearby Canton, and will be pouring beers at an outdoor causeway this summer. Their beers are universally lauded by #beergeeks and #hopheads and on rating sites; You could command a truck’s worth of otherwise really great beer for a four-pack of their highly-sought after beers. Yes, Trillium makes excellent Farmhouse Ales and their best beer may be their oatmeal porter, but hops are king here.
The Street Series at Trillium is a series of beers that use the same grain bill but showcase a different hop in each iteration. The beers named after the streets surrounding their Boston digs.
I happened across a solitary can of Summer Street recently, a beer brewed with Simcoe hops. Trillium is not easy to get to from where I live (give or take 45 minutes to each facility), but close enough that many craft beer fans would love to trade places with me.
Summer Street pours with a turbidity that exemplifies the New England IPA style and embodies that color that craft beer heads clamor for all over message boards. It’s an attractive look that pairs well with Instagram filters and elicits a Pavlovian response. There’s a juice-like quality to the mouthfeel that some people love and a slight back end bitterness that I found myself wishing there was more of.
This is a slightly above average beer. It’s not singularly unique or memorable beer, as it’s missing something: a lighter body, more bitterness, but that’s entirely about preference. But this is a beer that a person should try if they’re seeking out #allofthehops.