Tomorrow is the magical day that the unicorn of beers makes its appearance. For two weeks a year, starting the first Friday of February, Russian River releases what some have called the greatest beer on Earth.

I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying Pliny the Younger only once, and it was only after several pints of its more common uncle. And while at the time, and for a long while after, I also claimed Younger is as good as it gets, thinking back on it today, I think I might have been mistaken.

I’m lucky enough to live in San Diego County, where there are more breweries per capita than anywhere. That may not actually be true, but it sounds like it might be.

The fact is, today there are more overly-hopped, super-high ABV IPAs than ever before, and chances are I’ve had several that are as good if not better than Younger. The difference is rarity.

Like any food or drink, it’s as much about the company, the ambience, and overall experience as it is the chemical composition. If you have to wait twelve hours for a beer in the rain, or if your favorite hole in the wall pub magically got their hands on a keg and nobody knows but you, you’re going to enjoy it more. The story is what takes it from good to the best.

At least that’s what I hope, because chances are I’ll never have another Younger, so I’ll tell myself what I have to so I’m not bitter.