In March of the year of our lord two thousand and eleven, the fine establishment called Firestone Walker washed upon the shores of Kansas City to sell our good citizens its liquid craft. By doing this, it invited our residents to convene under the tent and witness the boxing match that is Firestone Walker Double Jack. When you open back that tent flap and walk in you’ll smell the aroma of citrus, mango, and pine. Oh Double Jack, you are a temptress! The Double IPA’s appearance is not unlike a corseted yet well-groomed wench, with your colorful golden-amber tones and a head that causes an emphasized double take and a primal grunt under your breath.
Hike up your pantaloons as your anticipation of the boxing match begs you to try your first sip. While tasting the beverage, I suggested you duck. As two fine upstanding mustachioed gentlemen are about to swing a throbbing fist of bitterness on your left. On the right, a scoundrel’s ball of fingers veers towards your mouth to deliver a glancing jab of sweet maltiness. What’s the damage you ask? It’s nearly a flesh-wound kind sir—as Double Jack does a fine job of leaving a pleasant mark of just enough bitterness and with a lingering kiss of grapefruit in the aftertaste.
The verdict is that this beer is delicious, refreshing, and extremely well balanced without being overcome with alcohol. Thank you, Firestone Walker, my palate has been bested. My thumb is protruding in the air to communicate approval and endorsement!