Been out of town, now home on the weekend, and looking for something to chill with as I decompress. Picked up an Anchor Bock from San Francisco, a place I love. Popped the cap, took a sniff. Sweet. Almost caramel sweet.

Licking my lips, I take a swig.

Hoppy bitterness up front. Light on the tongue, light but tingly carbonation. I can taste the wheat — it gives the beer a pleasant cereal flavor. This mingles with a complex maltiness throughout the entire bottle.

I remember walking up and down the streets of San Francisco. It’s a place where you don’t need a car. They have real, true pubs there — neighborhood hangouts where you can go and spend a good portion of your income and generate a lifetime of happy memories. This is where I first tried Anchor beer, a brewery so tied in with the city that it’s literally part of San Francisco’s history.

Drinking their Bock here, now, a half-continent away … makes me a bit nostalgic.

The hop bitterness prevails, well balanced, finishing the beer so that I’m refreshed and ready for another. It’s not a holy beer but it’s a good one. But alas, I didn’t buy a six pack, just a single.

T’was a mistake!

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