Your fingers wrap tightly around metal, points digging into your skin. With a deft lift and twist, metal frees itself from glass with an audible whoosh, and the first bubbles of carbonation burst forth, gently pushing the surrounding scents into the air.

It's crisp, bitter, full bodied, and after a long draw in the nostrils the massive brute force of half a dozen different hop varieties plows through.

Tilting the bottle, you admire its colour - rich, amber gold swirling with bubbles, and the final few drops serve to accentuate the glorious white head formed on the top of the liquid. A second sniff reinforces the first, and your tastebuds poke your salivary glands into overdrive.

Unconsciously, your hand wraps around the glass, squeaks gently against the forming condensation and lifts it to your lips.

A moment passes as liquid obeys the force of gravity and slides and pools down the side of the glass, teasing your lips and then fully entering your mouth, bubbles dancing with glee.

The first perceptible taste is strong, bitter. It's full. Clenched.

The second taste is milder, crisp. Sweet. Citrus-like.

You swallow, muscles contracting and sending the liquid gold further down. The lingering aftertaste is multifaceted, and what initially seemed like a single source of bitterness suddenly has five or six different notes.

A second sip sheds no new light, but tastes just as delicious.

The third sip is much the same. As you concentrate on the multitude of flavours, delighting in its depth, you realize that your glass is empty.

You reach for the bottle but realize that it too has nothing left to give you. The mystery of flavoursshall go on yet another day.