Does anybody know where there's a pool full of this stuff so we can dive into it?
"I’m glad I didn’t judge this book by its green exterior."
"This juice bomb may be a marketing collaboration with Tavern in the Square restaurants, but it’s no ploy."
Light beers are acceptable, but in pandemic times it’s mostly nice to get knocked on your arse.
"Sipping this stuff reminds me of everything that’s holy and that I adore and pray for."
I have said for years that Connecticut beers can hang with those from Mass or the Empire State or anywhere; in some cases, they may even surpass.
An international IPA brewed with toasted rice, it’s like a unicorn canoeing down your throat, tapping Citra and Brazilian acerola cherry ores against every last taste bud.
Compelling isn’t the most flattering word for a soft drink. It’s not a compliment that I would ordinarily use to describe something meant to be swallowed, but it’s necessary here, because HopTea isn’t something that we knew existed, or that we needed.
Winter Hill’s home base doubles as a neighborhood bar, one where somebody might actually know your name. With the frigid months approaching, this is a place you’ll want to have on your cozy and comfortable list.
The idea is a saucy boom built on a full foundation, the spoils of which amount to a brilliant optical illusion.