Tweason Ale, by Dogfish Head. We haven’t met a beer they make that hasn’t treated us like a brother.
“Extracting the juice was exhausting but cool. It took us a few hours to work through all of the fruit, and the juice was a vibrant blood red as it ran through the slats. Because the press worked in repetitive increments, the juice pulsed out in surges. Before we cleaned up, the area looked like an epic crime scene minus the chalked body outlines. “Are wild strawberries really wild? Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?” — Shel Silverstein.”