It’s possible that the breadsticks I’m eating with this are frying my taste buds in some cosmic, gustatory way; but what flavors there might be seem somewhat muddled (and I still don’t think I would recognize passionfruit if it fell out of the sky, landed on my face, and started to wiggle [h/t to the late, great John Hughes]). For a Scarlet Lane joint, however, it’s approachable and pleasant—smooth up front, with just a hint of the bitter fnish that too often dominates their pales. (And it should perhaps be noted that this beer is listed as “Pale Ale” on the menu, not “IPA.”)
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