One of the hardest things I learned as a young journalist is that the only person who could get away with being like Hunter S. Thompson was Hunter S. Thompson.

There’s a lot of Hunter in Flying Dog’s beers. His spirit is in the brew, not to mention on the labels. I mean, here’s a brewery who’s actual advertised slogan is:

Good Beer.
No Shit.

This one in particular reminds me of passage from Thompson’s The Curse of Lono, where he describes accidently running over someone’s dog. (I’d intended to quote the passage here, but I lent the book out years ago, never got it back, and the damn thing has become an expensive collector’s item.)

What does this have to do with beer? Not much. About as much as the names “Tire Bite” and “Flying Dog.”

Anyway, moving along…

I popped the top of this one and took a sniff, then a long snort. My younger daughter laughed at me, saying, “Why are you sticking the beer up your nose?”

Good question. Why do beer reviewers bother sniffing the beer? I mean, really? What is the point?

Anyway, sniffing this one rewarded me with a light, unremarkable hoppy scent.

I take the first sip. Light body, but not watery. Not overly carbonated. Good but unimpressive, slightly sweet, mild golden malt.

The strongest initial flavor is the hops, which are refreshing and a bit green. There’s a tangy, lingering aftertaste. Very tasty.

Over time, the beer goes from unimpressive to impressive. By the time I reach the bottom of the bottle I am seriously wishing for another.

The best thing I like about breweries such as Flying Dog is that they’re a kick in the balls to anyone who says all American beers taste like crap. There are a lot of American craft beers that I’d put up against any beer from any country. Flying Dog’s brews are among them.

I have yet to taste a Flying Dog beer that didn’t impress me.

Digg StumbleUpon Etc.