But one day you grab a beer, uncap it and pour this quite malty IPA that has yet another special twist. Among its ingredients there's pine resin. I had Piris Resin Old School IPA with two of the people in charge at Instituto de la Cerveza Artesana, where this beer is brewed. I also drink one at home, on a warm summer night. Leaving apart the evolution it's had in two months, the sensation is exactly the same.
All of a sudden I quit this sweltering night of July and we're on spring, on one of those mornings when I head to the hills and have a pleasant stroll with Mrs. Birraire. It's late March: thyme's already flowering, rosemary is progressively appearing and the forest seems to recover its splendour with its green fresh aroma. It's funny what resin adds to this particular brew; it's funny how a simple sniff of your beer can make you travel through space and time.
It just takes a quick smell when you pour it to see that this is no conventional beer, with the strong influence of the pine resin. But how could I complain of a beer that can convey these emotions as I drink?
Salut i birra!