Unless you're confining yourself to only brewing in Georgia, should you really call something Atlanta's OG? Also, I'm not even sure I know what that really means. Is this beer some kind of a gangster? Is it just the fish that's a gangster? And what about the fact that this is brewed in both Georgia and Colorado? Who is Colorado's OG? Will there be some kind of rap battle between the two? What about all the innocent civilians in between? Are they just out of luck as they get caught in the crossfire? Why do so many people have to die over a beer? Is it even a good beer? Well, I can answer one of these questions by the time we're done.
It's straw yellow in the thinner parts of the glass, but it turns more copper when it gets thick. The slightly off white head is sticky, and it leaves lacing in its wake, and anyone who reads these reviews knows I like that. The aroma is instantly mouth-watering with fruits bulging under a malt that is simply there to protect the taste buds from the onslaught of bitterness that, inevitably, the hops would normally bring. This smells really good, and I really want it.
First sip is pretty spectacular. I knew that the malt was going to do a good job of holding back the bitterness, and it's doing a better job than I even suspected it would. As a result, the juices flow delightfully down the throat with only bear hint of bitterness left in their wake. It is truly fantastic that they were able to get this balance right for a sip, and I could just keep on sipping this, but I'm not allowed. The rule is that I have to gulp.
Tip-in is moderate carbonation with oddly sweet grapefruit, mango, and starfruit. It is a delightful beginning. The middle shifts gears as the fruits go from a high revving, in your face loudness to a baritone rumble that almost soothes the throat as it goes down with carbonation fizzing over top of it. The finish is a sudden appearance of not particularly brusque bitterness that barely holds onto the tongue for the trail off.
4.25/5

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