Dear America,
New York City has been holding out on you.
I’m not talking about musical theatre or the nightlife or whatever things people come to New York from all over the country to experience. No, I’m talking about what might be the single greatest beer in the entire history of the universe, Sixpoint’s Righteous Rye. Never before has a beer so tasty, so dangerous, exerted such pressure on me to drink it. It makes most other craft beers seem like the cans of Hamm’s sitting in your trunk while you’re at summer school when you’re 16.
Brooklyn Brewery? I love you, but no.
Dogfishhead? No!
Smuttynose? How I adore your IPA, but, still, no.
Europe? Your dogged adherence to tradition is commendable, but no.
Asia? Not in a million years.
Africa? South America? Australia? No! No!! No!!!
And while I would love to recommend that you fine folks around the country go to your local purveyor of fine beers and purchase a six pack of this mighty beast of a drink, you cannot. Sixpoint does not bottle beer. You can only get it on draught. It’s even difficult to find sometimes in Manhattan, but it waits for me like a patient friend when I come home to Brooklyn. Always there. Always happy to see me.
Sixpoint, you have brightened my life with the Righteous Rye and I thank you for it.
To the rest of America, when you’re in town on vacation, take a break from the tourist crap, take the subway across the East River, find yourself a nice little bar, and get a Sixpoint. You will thank me for it.
Check out their site: Sixpoint Craft Ales
