A soft apology to the 45 IBU crowd

Northline Hazy clocks around 45 IBU, which is polite by modern standards, and yet the first pour still reads like grapefruit pith arguing with mango candy in a fluorescent hallway.

Mouthfeel is medium-plus; hop oil hangs around like it paid rent. If you came for “crisp,” this is not that aisle. If you came for “why does my tongue buzz,” welcome.

Kara asked me to add a CTA. Fine: Reserve your six-pack of Northline Hazy. Or don’t. The IBUs will wait.