Bell's Hopslam

The residual staling of hops on my tongue...
The warmth of alcohol coursing through my veins.
-Ode To Hopslam, Jennie, 1/15/2012

Ah, my favorite beer. Ever. Hands down. I only wish it came out more than once a year. Or not... I'd be even more broke than I already am.

This beer is worth the hype. Last night, the night of its first release in Ohio, the St. James Tavern blew through a keg in five hours. Yes, it's that good.

By the way, the kitty above is Thatcher, my beloved  BFF in feline form of 16 years. She's pretty, isn't she? (That's rhetorical, of course.) Thatcher is Queen Shit of Fuck Mountain, and she's not afraid to tell you. Like my dad, Phil, she's earned her stripes and bitching rights. But she's also the first to take care of you in any time of need. She has seen me through heartaches and physical maladies, all tightly by my side. She's an amazing lap kitty, and her favorite perch is our bed, where she yells at the other cats who try to pass. Nathan decided that our familiars, our feline buddies and owners, would enjoy a photo with Hopslam. As you can see from the photos, they do. Clearly. Clearly, I'm also Crazy Cat Lady as well as Crazy Beer Lady.

Back to the beer. And the technicalities. And the boring stuff. So, color is a medium orange tone, mildly hazy. The scent? Oh, the scent. I could wear this as perfume and be quite satisfied. Piney. Heavenly. This is the stuff I've been waiting for all year. There is a medium off-white head that quickly dissipates. It doesn't stick around long because this stuff is semi-lethal, at 10%. Great alcohol legs on the nectar. And oh, the nectar... I'm getting to you. Be patient. It's a virtue, you know.

That first ecstatic sip sends my taste buds into sensory bliss. Remember that time last year? Wait, you don't? Me either. But my taste buds do. I find a lot of pine and grapefruit in the foreground. And the honey resonates through out the entire flavor profile: beginning, middle, and end. It's the perfect balance to the copious additions of hops that make this beer damn near perfect. Oh, I apologize, Larry (as in Bell, founder of the brewery that produces this nectar). Perfect. I can't imagine that gods of ancient times enjoyed better quaffs than this. This is also a solidly structured beer, with the hops not overwhelming the malts, but they balance out soooooooo perfectly. Have I mentioned yet how perfect I think this beer is? Oh, and there's that alcohol bite, perfectly balanced with the honey again, just enough to give it a pleasant sticky mouthfeel. Hop-haters should not fear this; it's so perfectly balanced with the honey and the hops that it's neither too sweet nor too hop-forward. As if there were such a thing.

It's pure ecstasy with each sip. I should note that it should be served in a tulip or snifter glass, and I prefer it closer to room temperature than fridge temp. My former rep, Travis, will tell you that it's not for cellaring because the hops will die off soon. So get yourself a six-pack today, and enjoy every last one of 'em. And get another six-pack tomorrow. And another the day after that. And the day after that. Because it's that good. Seriously. Just don't blame me for the hangover.

5/5 caps. Did I mention perfection?

-Jennie

And this is Jasmine. Or Jazz, if you will. Perfect for a Bell's product, with their Jazz series. Seriously, she looks sublimely happy. Or should I say hoppy? She's a total sweetheart, one of our newer additions (she came to us with the help of another kitty friend of ours, Luna, soon after she escaped her prior home. Not that that's bad; her daddies were moving to South Carolina and couldn't take them. She found her way to us and has been a total doll baby ever since. Really, even her hiss is sweet, like a well-honeyed Hopslam).

Oh.... oh... Hopslam... There's a reason You leave us lingering for an entire year. My memories of you are as follows. First venture: Dia de Los VW Muertes. My VW had an issue with the clutch actuator, ergo, no go. I momented my way (yes, I created a word) into a parking lot. After wandering around whilst awaiting the arrival of my super mechanic (Dad, if you will), we stopped into Studio 35 for a drink. Bell's Hopslam, hmmmm, sounds tasty. WHAM. Not what I was expecting. Much better than expected from a brewery from that state up north. My initial thought- must obtain this again.

This venture came at least 3-5 fold last year. Jennie was living elsewhere. A place down the street from the most epic gas station ever. The Sunoco in Blacklick. we obtained (legally, I think.... I wanna say.... yeah, pretty sure) a couple, or better, six-packs while she was living there. Then came the big decision, getting a place together. I obtained, once again (still trying to remember how), a six-pack of this golden blessing from the Gods to bless and break in this new living arrangement of ours. We still have an empty bottle from that six-pack sitting in our collection.

Side note about Jennie's homage to this brew ("Ode to Hopslam"), It was written one year ago today... how weird... how bizarre... 

With that being said, this beer is like a celebration of good times and bad. A festival of dancing should be held in it's honor. Hopslam release should be one of the main Sabbats from here on out. People should be given the day off of work for this, in a day of reflection 'cause let's face it, Memorial Day has lost its meaning to most people and it's a national holiday. Do the math to see where I'm going with this...

Next up in the homage to subject of Felinus Meets Hopslamus:
Gia- the Hell Beast. The Monster that lives under your bed and strikes fear in the hearts of all that lay eyes upon her grace and beauty.  All feet be warned, none shall pass the bed skirt unharmed. Don't be fooled by her cute looks, she will steal the alphabet magnets from the fridge door.

So with that epic description from Jennie, how can I expand on this? Nose is amazing, as described. Once it warms up, the alcohol is a little more noticed in the nose, but note that it's just in the nose. The lacing on the glass (despite it not being served in a proper glass, but eh, it drinks the same, right?) is fantastic. Heavy lacing that's as thick and rich as the hop fields in Oregon.

The taste is mainly what keeps drawing me back to this. At $19.74 (after tax) a six-pack, I would laugh at the seller and tell him where to put said product, but knowing and loving this product, $19.74 is a bargain. Well, not really on the wallet, but it's worth every penny (can't resist... *knock knock knock* Penny). The taste is sheer divinity at it's finest. As Jennie stated, the honey is noticed throughout the tasting. Something I want to point out is; as hoppy as this magnificent libation is, the bitterness of the hops do not stand out like most IPAs or DIPAs. This is sheer flavor and aroma. And Sweet Raptor Jesus, the flavor. The human languages lack the capable sounds appropriate to perfectly describe the sheer depth and brilliance of this. Maybe our feline friends have the proper terms and words, but aren't letting on.... this is some sort of conspiracy between Hopslam and cats... I'm sure of it. But, I digress.

The alcohol of this is a kicker. And I mean it will kick you in whatever human reproductive part you have. You don't taste it, but out of nowhere, you're feeling the 10%. Then things start feeling better in life and you're fine with the fact that the amazing 4 cats you have attack your feet (well, more of just the one grey beast).... Oh, I appear to be rambling....

My only quarrel with this, is it's not readily available. It's limited distribution (as in you'll have to obtain this from a store that specializes in amazing beer and wine selections), and only around for a short time. Again, though, the short time is helpful with the hop shelf life.

5/5 caps

-Nathan-

And last but not least of our feline friends: Mr. Dorian, the Grey. He appeared to Phil one day, and Phil gazed upon his presence and was stunned. Phil instantly knew this cat and he were to become best of friends. When Phil moved to Ohio with us, we, as well, were blessed by the sheer awesomeness of this grey beauty. Shield your eyes at first, but slowly take in the beauty that is Mr Dorian.