The attic has them now, asleep in a garret island of misfit madness. We’re dropping a pale ale as cush as the furry up comb of a gem tummied wish troll, brimful of spelt and oat malt. Galaxy, Enigma, Rakau and Vic Secret hops are crawling up the walls and filling your gut with squishable crushable. Notes of pineapple cayenne wedges, spicy orange marmalade, and rock-melon cantaloupe syrup.
HOPS: Galaxy, Enigma, Rakau, & Vic Secret