You could ship me to India, and I wouldn't go bad

Let me start with this: I have a thing for beers from Dogfish Head.  It's a new thing, but it's strong, a head-over-heels kind of thing.  I admit that I was late to this bandwagon.  Sure, Sam Calagione is Mr. Extreme Beer, a darling and demigod of the craft brew movement, but somehow, I just didn't get around to drinking his beers much.  I was - and still am - focused on the amazing array of Michigan craft brew offerings, as well as other Great Lakes regional beers, and when I was out shopping for beer, I often passed on Dogfish Head beers in favor of those born closer to home.

But then something happened.  I got a hop jones that just wouldn't quit.  As readers know, as soon as fall was plunging into winter, I craved stouts, and I have reviewed them here and, to a much greater degree, in articles for Examiner.com.  And I still adore stouts; don't get me wrong.  In fact, I'll be writing a blog entry soon that summarizes my "findings" thus far in my Michigan stout foray.  A few weeks ago, though, I started to want big, hoppy beers.  I wanted IPA's that could curl my toes.  I wanted deliciously floral American pale ales that would waltz across my tongue.  Perhaps it was when I brewed my second batch of homebrew, which was supposed to be a steam style beer.  During the hops additions, the aroma was so heavenly, so fantastic, that I just started to want - to need - to have some uber-hopped beer.  Now, before I go on, I want to mention two things: first, I know that while steam style beer has a significant hop presence, it's not super hoppy, but if you had smelled those puppies going in during the boil, you'd understand; second, you might have noticed that I said "supposed" to be a steam style beer.  The rest of that is a whole other story, but not necessarily one with a sad ending - I'll know soon.

Back to my hops insanity.  Maybe it actually wasn't the steam beer, but the fact that at this point in the Michigan winter, I start thinking ahead to spring, to green, and a bit of desperation starts to creep in.  And that slightly desperate need for green turns my mind, where it comes to beer, to hops, in all of their herbal, floral, piney, citric glory.  In other words, in all of their fecund green-ness.

So, in the midst of this, I went to the store, and they had singles of Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA.  I saw it, and I simply needed it.  I had that baby in my cart before I even knew what I was doing, and just a little while later, I was a-drinkin' it.

What struck me first when tasting it was not the hops, but the malt.  Dogfish lays down such a tremendous foundation of malt; the beer looked, felt, and tasted rich.  It was actually sweet!  And then the hops came on, and O, I had reached glory.  The malt and hops didn't compete; they waltzed.  It was beautiful.

Since then I've continued to stock up on IPA's and consume them joyfully.  Arbor Brewing's Sacred Cow IPA was, and might still be, on sale at Arbor Farms, and is delightful, also with a firm malt base (though not crazy like Dogfish) and wondrous floral and citrus aroma and taste.  It's impressive as heck and was brewed just up the road.  Dogfish Head's Burton Baton barrel aged imperial IPA was simply astounding, like the 90 minute but with an almost wine-like quality that had to be a product of the aging; it's actually a blend of young and aged IPA's.  Victory Brewing's Hop Devil lives up to its name; I'd make a deal with that one any time.  And Stone IPA is a wonderfully balanced masterpiece.

Still to come (as in, I have them in my cellar): Founders Devil Dancer Triple IPA (112 IBU's!!!!) and Double Trouble IPA, Arcadia Hopmouth Double IPA, and an intriguing crop of Shorts beers: Liberator Double IPA, Kind Ale (a wet hopped ale), and Good Humans (a dry hopped double brown ale).  And I've got ingredients coming in the mail to brew up an organic, dry hopped IPA, my first foray into secondary fermentation and dry hopping.

I don't know when this phase will end, but I'm sure enjoying it while it lasts.