Inside the suburban garage, sunlight angles in amber and gold, while two torpedoshaped fermenters —one named Hank, the other Steve —are gently rumbling. At the controls is the generously bearded Zak Cate, the co-founder of Little Hop Brewing and a craft beer obsessive who rarely makes the same barrel twice. He’s the dynamo behind this private afternoon tasting session at his home, flipping taps to release coloured streams of pale straw, maple and ruby brown. The air is thick with the yeasty scent of toasted hops and grain.
“For an American beer, the first sip is a punch in the face,” he says, raising his voice above the whirr of machinery. He’s telling me about one of his absurdly small-batch creations —which range from malt-heavy IPAs to herby farmhouse-style ales, not yet in fashion —which sit fizzing gently in 16-ounce tumblers on the hand-sanded counter. An exhale, a goodnatured cheers, a flash of light through the glass, then our drinks are held high in front of our gleaming eyes. We grin like children.
The beer rises from the glass, suds swimming at the top and dressed in all the colours of summer. It’s fresh as the morning sun and hoppier than a
