Beerly Departed - Search The Crypt's Records

Monday, September 19, 2011

Cocoa Beach - 888 India Pale Ale

Dead Men Don't Tell No Tales
Where to Dig Up More About This Beer
888 India Pale Ale
Cocoa Beach Brewing Company
150 N. Atlantic Avenue
Cocoa Beach, FL USA
Est. 20??

Brain Damage Quotient = 8.0 % ABV
Fluid Oz. = 22.0

Postmortem Brew Review
Translucent yet clear amber color.
Muted citrus hops and just a hint of sweet malt.
Off-white head. Spotted and stringed lacing. Covers to a cap.

Minimal amount of carbonation.
Hops heat comes on with each and every sip.
Malt sweetness is muted but does a good job of balancing the whole mix.
Medium body, medium mouth feel. Great hops stickiness in finish.

Grim Reaper's Eulogy
Today, September 19th, is National Talk Like A Pirate Day. Lookin' around the mortuary fridge for a beer to review, I was becomin' dismayed at the prospect of reviewin' somethin' with an "Arrrgh" (the letter R) in it. This just won't do. After all, I am the poster child for every Jolly Roger ever flown. That would be a cop out of magnanimous proportions! Besides that matey, what would Cap'n Slappy and Ol' Chumbucket think?

I took out me spyglass and spotted the booty in the back of the cold chest...888 India Pale Ale from Cocoa Beach Brewing! Bloody good luck, then. We were in business for a dead reckoning with this treasure of an ale. I plucked it out with me bony paw, arrrgh, and brought it out for a closer examination. Cool lookin' pirate flag sportin' the triple eight skulls? Check! A pirate chest on the sand filled with said pieces of eight? Check! Arrrrrrgh, this was gunna be an easy plunder. All the makin's of Davy Jones secret treasure, right there in me hand! Though it rivals its Pacific coast IPA brethren, it's an Atlantic coast IPA treasure, make no bones about that.

Ye should get yerself some of this grog, mateys. It's me favorite imbibement from all their treasures. Worth crossing the equator and prime meridian for, in search of it's holy nectar. At 8.0% ABV, this concoction will keep the saltiest of dogs satisfied and their scurvy at bay. Pieces of eight, harrrrgh! Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of.......keep yer' rum.

I'll take my share in trade of this stuff, ya' best be belivin' it!

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