In 2008, Drake was popping rosé with Trey Songz.
In 2016, Drake is still the soundtrack of summer, and so is rose. Rosé Gosé, that is.
Hoof Hearted Brewing released their hibiscus infused gose in cans a couple weeks ago in one of their super exclusive, elite ticketed releases. I bought a ticket, not realizing at first that the release took place not at their 4th Street location, but in Marengo. I drove 39 miles. I wrangled a case into my trunk. I wrangled with Google Maps when it suddenly went AWOL in the middle of unrecognizable ruralness. I somehow ended up in VIP Rock on the Range parking on the way back to my campus apartment.
But here’s the thing: I had never tasted this beer before.
I know you’re not supposed to judge a book on its cover, but I also know ugly books stay on the shelves.
When I saw the label design for Rosé Gosé, a neon pink and black ode to “Dirty Dancing,” on Hoof Hearted’s Instagram, I wanted it. I like pink. And pink beer could not be put in the corner.
So I took Hunter S. Thompson’s advice: “buy the ticket, take the ride.” Thompson had more scandalous paraphernalia in his trunk than 24 cans of rose gose. Thompson ran into even crazier characters than Rob Zombie.
But Rosé Gosé is still a great ride.
Rosé Gosé pours a bright pink, which clearly already makes it perfect for any porch or patio drinking. It’s also bubbly. Two votes for festive.
Rosé Gosé doesn’t smell like a rose though. Not that that’s a bad thing. It just isn’t purely sweet, fruity, or wine-reminiscent like some goses. It might be pink. But it’s still a beer… man.
First flavor on the tongue is one of sea salt, which is quite refreshing. Maybe it replenishes electrolytes or something like that. All I know is that it keeps me drinking.
Saltiness is soon followed by delicate floral notes from the hibiscus. I expected a more pungent tart and sour flavor, similar to Rhinegeist’s gose, Peach Dodo, or Lineage Brewing’s Berliner Weisse, Passionate Bernice. But as much as ya wanna smack a kiss on that pretty can, it doesn’t make you pucker too bad. It keeps you sipping, nice and easy, making it my unofficial official gose of the season.
In a summery world of goses and sour ales, even if you had a twin, Rosé Gosé, I’d still pick you.
