Highland Park/DDB collab raw dog barleywine, taking donations, on tap today

If anyone is in LA today or picking up cans from @highlandparkbrewery they have tapped an elusive keg of Taking Donations, the non barrel aged raw dog barleywine DDB/HPB collab that we brewed and racked to bourbon and Brandy barrels last year! The time has made it more integrated and dripping with Lifetonez. Go snag some elusive maltjuice while you wait for the BALs to be fully saturated.


Monkish foggier window: the hopwraveling

(Haze is, in the end, whatever the Hell I want it to be,

And when Henry is through with it, it’s gonna blow a hole,

This wide, straight through the BJCPs own idea of itself.

They’re throwing crowlers at your house.

Come on, lets go break their arms.) You talk about the way IPAs were,

But I can’t hear what you’re saying.

A time when dry hopping was not this hard,

Blessed by boil Bittering innocence.

Is the best hops to come?

Or did it pass by long ago?

Are we holding on to London ale,

Or something already dead?

Trub is not your reason to stand up straight,

Shoulders back, chest out, and mash paddles raised.

Stepping back, brewers hesitate.

Cicerones won’t let traditional styles be taken.

Is the haze yet to trub?

Or did oats pass by long ago?

Are we holding on to a motueka,

Or a rhizome already dead?

You can’t change your style, expect me to care.

At 2pm on a Wednesday, Monkish can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to be there.


Can’t just announce a line.

The reception of haze, the signals breaking up.

Are brewers moving on or are they giving up?

Before macrobrews co opt and ruin everything,

Crack. Juice. Cans. Today.


Humulus Lager cans are here and these alone can redeem years of Bruery missteps. They are that exceptional

Pat Rick Rue

They lied to you.

When they said you couldn’t brew hoppy lagers

(So here it is, the end is near)

You lied, too, when You said never IPAs .

(Never would’ve thought that that’d be something you’d so easily discard)

Because The water profile is Softer…

(Now I see haze free so clear)

Than a…

(So it seems that when you turned to corporate funding, you…)

Thrift store…


Provisions store…

(A scar)

Terrieux store…

[my old Hoarders] Sweater.

Twice as worn in.

Twice as worn in.

Society dues cast away once,

But With humulus I will be found again.

This I promise you.

Promise you. [this is everything I hoped it would be almost years too late but this Alone will redeem any amount of Younting and these cans could carry the entire branding, they are as they have ever been and this is my favorite beer from them of all time, perhaps tied with 09BT and ba2TD, exactly what the current market needs and a flawless counterpoint to excess maybe even attendant to Placentia itself. I can’t recommend these cans enough, crisp grassy tangelo that is endlessly crushable and could redefine the extensions of the boullion London ale III floccbois. Exceptional]


Boulevard Rye on Rye remains exceptionally okay and the quality to cost to distro ratio is Rye high

People always ask me “ddb, when are you going to get those incisors fixed” then they ask me “where can I find some shelf barleywine? I am n00bing it hard and my pubes just arrived” the latter question is usually resolved with some massive Duvel held and distributed product or some degree of trapezius lifting when I’m supposed to know the distro for every single state ever and what every bottle shop in rural fucking Alabama carries. But usually my answer is 1] tiny @firestonewalker bottles in cardboard boxes or basically similar shit 2] @boulevard_beer BBBq or Rye on Rye or whatever. They are massively distributed, serviceable and present a 75% throttle to what life is capable of. Crushable yet complex with a comparatively thin body with a spicy undercarriage with no noise dampening. This has what Chrysler calls a “cabin forward design” with molasses and spice and mallow and pumpernickel like some bizarre TMNT pizza breakdown. Plus this is arguably the cheapest life approximation in the game while still being compelling.


This new Kuhnhenn Cherry eisbock is as ridiculous as you would expect it to be

Alright cherry eis-ees slurries like we shopping at Target on a srs pitted adventure.  These god damn fruited freezie adventures make no sense to me.  The raspberry is consistently robitussinal without a ton of age, the blueberry is majestic IHOP collarbone kisses, and they never released the rawdog non fruited non BA eis.  Then we have the BA line up of these that are a staggering $50 a bottle 1pp that basically change them from Urkel to Stefan instantly.  That’s some next level shit.  So understand my trepidation when I flexed my core and expected a buckshot of sucrets lossenges to the chest.  Interestingly, unlike the raspberry, this was actually less prmoethazine than expected and had some malty character deep down under all the jammy extravagance.  The blueberry is still decadent to a hilarious point and the barrel aged Eisies make all non barrel aged variants seem underripe and completely pointless.  However, contrasted to KRE this seems more approachable and like medicinal, muddled Mike and Ike’s in some grenadine reduction.  It’s absurd and over the top but in light of all these honeymouthed mead dipshits, this seems like South Beach Diet compared to what other consumers in Michigan and Florida are up to, talking about mead magnums and shit. Zoot suit riot eis down a cherry lagered beer.


Boulevard rye on rye with its subtle nods at Life, is back upon us

Whenever someone brings up @boulevard_beer and how they just recently became about that Life, I remind them that they have been bagging up raw in the malty trap with RoR and BBBQ for years. I can’t wait for the inevitable bundled up, but part of me wishes the branding on this hinted at Barley roots since this would be an excellent foray into the life adjacent realm: same sticky school district just not maltrified yet

Also putting this in smaller format is 10/10 ign review, 100 maltacritic score


Goose Island’s new islay stout offering is a dystopian tire aisle nightmare

For those of you who already know my aversion to rauch and peat profiles, you understand when I say that this @gooseisland offering is a tire aisle nightmare. If you absolutely love terroir and bog and black and Milds then you can disregard my ptsd attendant to this latex thanatopic experience. It crackles and wisps out with zero allure or fervor, lying supine yet compliant, the crinkle of examination table paper and that reluctant hateful obsequience of a diagnostic exam. It doesn’t want to be here and either do I. The nose is an existential affair in that my olfactory is thrown so far left of center that I question its very nature. It’s parking lot burnouts, thrift store leather, Home Depot turf builder, mixed with old bowling alleys who haven’t yet outlawed indoor tobacco. That stale smoky canvas of a leaky industrial tattoo parlor coupled with the experience of planting perennials for a glimpse of spring bougainvilleas that will never bloom. The body sort of undulates in like CGI from the 90s, it has clear questionable aspects that shatter the reality. It’s just more heft that paints with a Cohiba robusto by way of a Splatoon roller. The swallow is mercurial, like the element not the God. There isnothing fast about this and it breaks into hateful black licorice beads, good and plenties soaked in bong water. It’s good to see some inventive new things in the pipeline but, Evander Holyfuck, I cannot go 3 rounds with this, it’s all latex star punches. Bayonet trials rust propellers away.