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Southern Grist, unlike Southern Tier, but not too dissimilar to Southern Barrel or Southern Star, or (I guess) Southern Charm, is from the proper south. If I had some indication that Southern Prohibition still existed, I would call them out, but I have not seen anything from them since 2017, so I have little confidence that they lasted longer than the Civil War (which, itself, did not last as long as the TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Southern Grist is in Tennessee, where I am, so I want this to be good, and I want more options from them.
The yellow beer produces a minimal head of very light, soft bubbles that look like it may even leave a bit of lacing as it goes down. The smell of orange, apricot, and grapefruit meet me as I lean down into the glass. This smells really good, and I once again find myself wondering what I normally babble about in my second paragraph. The presentation looks really good, and there's not much else to say about that.
First sip is a delightful mixture of citrus and tropical fruits with a mild bitterness ending it off. The weight of the fruits should not be underestimated, as they absolutely fill the mouth, and they are backed by a pleasing malt that doesn't intrude on what is otherwise a party being thrown by the hops. Most of the time, I view malt as a way to reduce the bitterness that is naturally brought by the hops, and this one is doing a very good job of leaving the bitterness right at the ragged edge.
Tip-in is carbonation giving some attitude while the apricot, melon, orange, and grapefruit all seem to be just kind of piling up in anticipation of a fruit-filled middle. The middle is a tremendous blend of fruits above a calm and slightly austere malt, but the sensation is absolutely fantastic. The middle brings fruit sweetness to the fore before reducing itself to bitterness and fruit skins for the trail off.
Bottom Line: I will not just have another, but I will have many.
4.0/5
