Damn the torpedos!

I do love my IPAs. I really, really do. Is it the assertiveness of the hops? It might be. I do like my beers to blow up in my mouth like an IED. Or is it the way the malt kicks sand in your face, like in the old Charles Atlas ad? Or is it the high alcohol content? I mean, nothing says good beer like a solid ass-whoopin'.

It's all of it!

Yeah. It's the whole package. The hops is there to offset the malt in an isometric matchup that old Charles would appreciate. Sure, the hops historically kept the beer stable on the long boat rides to India. But it just tastes so good, it's not just for ocean travel any more.

Getting a good balance between hops and malt is difficult, especially when the goal is to take the hops to eleven. I would've loved to be in on that planning session.

Steve: "Listen. I think we should just throw in a fuckload of hops. That'll keep the beer from souring."

Tom: "Sure. Great idea. Have you tasted hops? They're nasty! We'll have to double the amount of malt just to kill the flavor of the hops."

Steve: "Fuck you. I love hops. They taste like pot. I'm the boss. Make it happen!"

Balancing the sweetness of the malt with the bitterness of the hops is a challenge. Sierra Nevada's Torpedo gets it right. It's not as assertive as, say, Arrogant Bastard, but it definitely announces its presence with authority. While Arrogant Bastard simply doesn't give a fuck about you and your pansy-assed palate, Torpedo just demands respect. It starts off a little bit spice, a touch of lemon, and just a hint of pine, and a whole lot of bitterness. Once the hops is done with your mouth, it allows you to enjoy the malt. Just a little. Then it finishes on citrus and herbs.

If it were a U.S. President, it would be Lyndon Johnson: it'll swing you around by your ears without your permission, and tell you that you like it.