It's been the Summer of Hops, so far. So much so that I had to get a second opinion from a hops-loving friend about Bridgeport Brewing's Imperial IPA, Hop Czar IPA, made in the great Pacific Northwest town of Portland, Oregon. (To confirm what I already suspected.) But I'm getting ahead of myself, so first, let me fill you in on some background about this beer, and Imperial-style IPAs in general.

The Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP) tells us that Imperial-style ale should essentially be " Bigger than either an English or American IPA in both alcohol strength and overall hop level (bittering and finish). Less malty, lower body, less rich and a greater overall hop intensity than an American Barleywine. Typically not as high in gravity/alcohol as a barleywine, since high alcohol and malt tend to limit drinkability. A showcase for hops."

This is apparently the first year that Bridgeport Brewing has released Hop Czar in a regular six-pack, and it's well-distributed in Oregon, Washington, California, and Colorado. I've seen it at most of the local groceries and markets, and in more than a few local convenience store coolers, as well.

Now, you'll recall my enthusiasm for New Belgium's Ranger IPA, a well-balanced and wildly citrusy explosion of big hops flavor. Considering how much I'd enjoyed New Belgium's entry into the world of big, hop-crazy beers, I really expected great things from Bridgeport's Hop Czar, too.

Hop Czar is very much a big beer, with an ABV of 7.5%, so if you're planning to drink a few of them, someone else should probably drive. Beer drinkers have given high marks to Hop Czar, and hop-lovers have reviewed this IPA with enthusiasm. Ratebeer.com gives Bridgeport's Hop Czar, an overall score of 90, and Bill Night of It's Pub Night waxes almost poetic with affirmations like "This is likely to be my new everyday six-pack beer; when it first came out in 2008 it made such an impression on me that I named it as one of the best beers of the year in Brewpublic's year-end poll." Beer Advocate grades it an overall B.

Honestly, I was less impressed. It pours a lovely bright copper, with fabulous lacing and a thin-but-durable creamy head. The aroma is actually faintly haymeadow-dusty, with hints of spotted-knapweed essence [cough]. The mouthfeel is almost instantly, pleasantly astringent, and surprisingly light. Then the huge flavor of hops sort of squirts up your sinuses and takes the top of your head right off. Nowhere to be found is the "deep malt background" described in the Oregonlive.com blog, but I'll note that description was from a 2008 review. I like hops, but not to the point of this beer's grapefruit-rind-oil astringent bitterness lingering and lingering and lingering, long after I've stopped sipping and gone back to the cooler looking for something friendlier to drink. And did I mention the bitterness? As it warmed, it became more bitter with every single degree of gained temperature, too, rather like I imagine chewing pine-needles on a hot day might taste.

So I called in a second opinion I could rely on. Someone who has been drinking beer widely and with great zeal for more years than some of us have been alive. Someone who'd happily chew hops raw for breakfast, though she prefers dry to green. She's been known to detour across several lanes of busy traffic just for cold, sudsy rodeo beer in a paper cup. My hops-loving friend was rather more charitable than I. Her eyebrows shot up. She hemmed and hawed a bit about citrus and floral and big hops taste, and said it wasn't perhaps as well-balanced as it could be. She mumbled something about girl-beer drinkers—and absconded with the rest of the six-pack.

Final verdict? Not a beer I'll go out of my way to buy again. But I suspect I'm just not the target demographic. It's the perfect brew for your local hop-head.