My first experience drinking a red IPA was at the now-defunct Populuxe Brewing in Seattle. My brewer friend Pete handed me a pint of the most crimson-looking beer I’d ever seen. This was a true red color with a slight orangey tint—it was beautiful, bordering on otherworldly.
There was more to it, though. When I closed my eyes, it had the aroma of New World hops—Citra to be precise. (It then occurred to me to read the tap list a little more closely—“Citra Red IPA,” plain as day. Read and ye shall know.) The aroma was of lime, grapefruit, some bright orange peel, and a little sweet mango. The malt was more in the background, supporting the hops, yet detectable and giving off toasty and toffee-like qualities.
Besides that aroma, it was pretty to look at. If you’re like me, I tend to think any beer—or food, for that matter—that looks tasty will be tasty. After a few sips, I knew that my eyes and nose had not let me down. It was a delicious red ale, relatively light in body and mouthfeel, with moderate alcohol, a bit dry in the bitter finish, and extremely drinkable.