Monthly Archives: January 2012

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Kern River Class V Stout, Pass Legislation to Make this an Official Blanket Alibi for 4 a.m. Dietary Decisions

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This stout is the beginning of shitshow, the preamble to a plastered filibuster, and prologue to a book written about 4am food you dont remember. The smoothest, most dangerous 8.5% abv you have ever encountered.

This is a stout ninja, swift as a river current. It will destroy you not unlike that movie Deliverance.

Class V Stout, Kern River Brew Co, 8.5% Imperial Stout

A: This is a beautiful stout. The pour looks almost identical to Coca-cola if it were served on nitro. It was fantastic tiny bubbles that conjoin into a huge thick impermeable head that just sets up blocks upon blocks of spider web strip malls of lacing, it is the Encino of municipal lacing. The color is deep and shiny cola, bit by bit light shines through to evidence a warm moderately thin mahogany body.

This beer is dangerous and makes me feel like I am a child again. You tell Kern River, Class V is not for kids.

S: There’s some coffee, a bit of turbinado sweetness, and the cola caramel that I noted earlier. The chocolate notes are faint and intertwined with a mild hop profile at the finish. It will sock you.

T: This is an incredibly light imperial stout and the flavor profile matches it accordingly. It begins with a mocha sweetness, imparts a watery tone in the middle and the swift closer is the coffee and mild hop finish. It is a three chamber legislation and flavor bills are passed immediately to the stomach congress for approval.

It feels like a throwback, but not in an ironic way, like a comforting pop punk blanket that lulls you to sleep gently.

M: This is a thin imperial stout, but it wouldn’t exactly be fair to call this a watery stout. The middle body is lacking in coating, and the mouthfeel has very low chewiness, but perhaps the calling to the Class V rapids, the swift swashy tides of the Kern River are supposed to be imagined? I can’t say but for a nimble swift stout, it works incredibly well. It presents its alcohol in such a precise masked way that the thin body only makes the ABV Trojan horse all the more deceiving.

D: This is one of the most drinkable stouts I have ever had. This is particularly in part with the rapidity that it lays the flavors out, packs them up and postures you for the next drink. It is a very swift transition of chocolatey warped tour sets. For those who appreciate the drawn out arena rock, this may be a bit too light of fare for your tastes. It takes the elements from Founders Breakfast stout and reduces the silkiness of the oat bill and trades it in for watery spurs to make it FASTER to drink, but not necessarily BETTER, if that makes sense.

It's a little disturbing how wasted this beer gets you with such a gentle finesse. I dont question it. However, the $5.49 price tag just makes this ridiculous.

Narrative: This was the worst work retreat that Jim Dimiri had ever been on. Initially it seemed par for the course, nice relaxing weekend with some spurious workshops to pad the tax writeoffs, but then, the real activity was announced. “Yes sirree, we see some serious flows with all the Cascadian runoff this time of year, particularly with the coffee and cocoa farmers strip farming the upper elevation, well, it’s a gusher.” His life vest was caked with thick viscous foamy water. The grains from the upper elevation coffee farms whizzed by and was dashed on the rocks. “RIVER RAFTING IS NOT A TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE! DAMNIT!” Jim cried to Terri, the file clerk who was gripping the starboard side of the raft, coughing up chocolatey river water. “OH SHI-” the raft capsized on some deep woody debris and he was sent headlong into the khaki colored water, refreshing but dangerous. In a moment, it was all over. Jim crawled to the bank of the river and looked back on the foaming rapids that he had just confronted. Human Resources would receive a strongly worded letter on Monday.

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Founder’s Canadian Breakfast Stout, Finally a breakfast for the completely irresponsible. Hey, no one told you to have kids.

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Another top 100 gem rolls in for your virtual tasting enjoyment. This beer came out a while back and everyone lost their shit and wanted the moon and the stars for it. 10,000 bottles later my hipstbeer sense remains intact, I had this when it was an unlabeled hand bottle. CBS was cooler when it was underground.

Like the other CBS, except less shitty crime dramas and this is actually enjoyable.

Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout, 9.3%

A: nice brown mahogany tones, not exceptionally thick but a welcoming nice tiny bubbles. It just looks like a chill homie, the dude you talk to in the bathroom line, that sweet girl who tells you who does her hair. Sweet and deep in scope. LIKE COPERNICUS BEST SYSTEM. C…B…

This beer was expensive and hard to find for a while. Allow me to locate a fuck to give.

S: amazing maple sweetness, nice sticky chocolate, amazing waft, it’s like boning a maple syrup clown in an ihop, except the clown is a ford model and its not sex, it is just SMELLING.

T: toffee, coffee, sticky vanilla notes, it has a great maple syrup sweetness to it that gives a great caramel and brown sugar resonance. The exhaling waft has a nice dry hint of espresso. Give old molasses granny a smooch, get all up in it, she just had chocolate donuts, mmm maple bars, its sweet and dirty but so ri- wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah, beers and shit.

How long do you think I can post this before I get a takedown notice? I will keep you POSTED.

M: This hits just the right mark with me. They took the Founders Breakfast Stout, the oats and the silkiness, and boosted the ABV just a bit and balanced it out even further with amazing sweet notes that were absent in the breakfast stout. All around, just incredibly drinkable and balanced.

D: This is the most drinkable stout that I have ever had. The cruel irony is that it is the least accessible stout that I have ever had, therefore, making it not drinkable. It has this awesome slick coating to the middle that isn’t too heavy and doesn’t weigh the palate down. It doesn’t make you ruminate over the last sip and instead ops for a cleaner oilier finish that beckons for the next taste. This is an incredible stout and worthy of the hype.

For a while this beer was the #1 stout in my eyes. Things change.

Narrative: Noble Clifford Oatshire looked out over his majestic estate of rolling maple trees and moose farms. “It seems so simple doesn’t it Jarvis?” “Sir?” “The maple syrup business, being born into an unshakeable empire of saccharine sweet breakfast commodities.” He ruminated while pressing his hand idly against the antique French-Canadian glass. “I- I don’t follow sir.” “Jarvis what I am asking is simple, all of this, the basset hounds, the rich gourmand palate that I have acquired, the first edition tomes bound in supple calf skin, to what do I owe this?” “Well, I suppose your father master Cliff?” Clifford exhaled and looked around at the imposing bookcases and portraits of his ancestors, each painted upon a 12 foot canvas. “Jarvis, who supports YM Magazine?” “Well, children, eh, that is to say, insecure girls, pre-women I suppose?” “And should they somehow slip away, who would buy YM Magazine then?” “Eh well, pedophiles and sexual deviants I suppose” Clifford took a sip of his bold cup of coffee and stirred his oatmeal demonstratively. “AND WHAT OF MAPLE SYRUP JARVIS? Will people need our condiment graces forever?” He was a powerful slick orator, with passion and a sweet disposition. “I only hope that we have done as much for the breakfast world as it has done for us.” He watched a mountie clip clop away into the distance across the vast Canadian tundra.

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Barrel Aged Token Porter, Infected, but still an amazing zombie life.

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The beer nerd rumor mill grinds away on poor Alpine and their barrel aged offerings. I liked this beer but some people said it was a bit infected. I SAY THEY CAN DIACETYL THIS DI-

Infected Shminchmecked. This beer is still a solid delicious drinker.

Alpine Bourbon Barrel Aged Token, Porter, 9.5% Abv

A: The appearance is a bit watery with a deep mahogany that provides a little bit of sheen like a Head and Shoulder commercial. The bubbles are frothy and tiny. They provide little in the way of lacing but the middle carbonation bubbles throughout. Not even mad tho, haters gonna hate.

IMPLYING that a little infection is always a bad thing.

S: There’s some vanilla, coffee, burnt chocolate, and some oakiness to it. There isn’t a big bourbon waft to it. The nose isn’t too overwhelming but not distracting either. Its like Judy Winslow, she’s chill but an enjoyable support character.

T: There is a nice vanilla warmth to it on the initial taste the fades into a dark chocolate slickness. The hops are muted on the back end with a chalky oakiness that is incredibly refreshing. The lingering sweetness stays on the gumline and is delicious.

99% of other beers are not infected, but many of them are worthless and annoying.

M: The mouthfeel has absolutely no alcohol waft to it, but it also lacks a serious barrel presence. It is crisp and washes away incredibly quickly with a bit of coffee and vanilla lingering. This seems like a sneaky ninja porter that secretly imparts the flavor and leaves the user confused as to where all the ninja stars in his palate came from.

D: This is the most drinkable porter that I have ever tasted. The thin body and intense flavor make it wash away clean without a serious malty interference. It has a watery middle body that, at first blush, was a bit disappointing, but ultimately became a huge merit in the drink ability section. The old Peter Porter robbing to pay Paul Porter. Ultimately, this is a great porter and one of my favorites, but it isn’t the greatest porter of all time.

you know there's something inherently wrong with it, but, you just cant stop.

Narrative: People told him that he was infected, but he didn’t believe them. He pressed on with his research. The mild coughing and sores spread gently and steadily but Jarvis Diacete would not be stopped. With careful atomic reduction, he could make the most powerful bourbon ever created. A writing deep brown sludge screeched in a beaker entreatingly gripping the glass. “Oh soon Barrelor, you shall embrace the sweet ague of the South.” The press condemned his amplification of barrel technology and noted that he would destroy humanity. Ah, infected Jarvis was, but on his way to a sour greatness indeed.

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Ballast Point Sculpin, Pineapple Fragmentary Hop Grenade

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Ok with all these weird ass beers, I need to hit my roots and add some staple beers to the old wheelhouse. You know ones you can actually go out and buy.N00b sh14.

Back when I started this blog, beer picture taking was in its infancy. Precious.

Ballast Point Sculpin IPA 7.0%

A: This pours with much pageantry, small bubbles, foam cascading like a 1930’s musical and not a single atonal note audible. It has a deep orange character that initially you expect a DIPA, then Sculpin gets all hood and shows you how single IPAs roll. You look deep into the swirling tiny bubbles and moderate lacing, you look back at the receipt reading $5.99; did you just discover the Marvin Gardens of beer? Yes; yes you just did. It has nice lacing and foam, at this price you can sling them against the wall and test all kinds of nonsense.

S: There’s a pronounce grapefruit and this beer, fresh, is the king of citrus notes. I cannot say enough good things about this beer when it is extremely fresh and it swings its deep drying citrus ague all over the place. Oh I am sorry, not a fan of drying deep juice and tart acidity? Well best move on, back to the east coast CAPTAIN BALANCE.

T: Speaking of Captain Balance, aside from the fact that, he’s our hero, gonna take IPAs down to zero; he is not present here. Here we have a beer that from the get go imparts a huge floral note, then cloisters back into juicy citrus notes and then- that’s it. You wait for more repeated blows to the head and chest but it subsides, like a cool tropical storm. Then you want more.

What this beer lacks in variety, it makes up for in intensity and relentlessly ignorant fans.

M: This rolls in like a low tide, nice maltiness at first that expands, releases its botanical droppings, then retreats. You aren’t left sitting around what happened, more likely you are considering how and when someone drank your 3 bombers of Sculpin. The next section of this coping phase is determining who left a pizza pocket in the microwave and determining where your pants are. We have all been there.

D: Oh, wait a second, let me hand a syllabus to captain obvious who showed up late. WHOSE CREDENTIALS I SERIOUSLY DOUBT. Well, captain obvious, this is a drinkable beer. The scary part is that this beer is like the Chinese military in that it is exceptionally capable and numerous beyond belief. This beer is everywhere and sought after universally. I don’t know what else to say about this beyond that it is the best SINGLE IPA, that I have ever had. Some may argue its ABV and OG and PLATOS place it in the DIPA range but, those people are all home brewers/virgins, so we will relegate them to iCarly and continue to review beers like adults do.

This beer is scary drinkable. MONSTER FROM THE OCEAN.

Narrative: The fish appeared slowly at first. They were reported within the streams of Michigan, then amongst the river beds within southern Kentucky. Soon all were pulling record “catches” and consuming huge game accordingly. What they did not know that the time was that the evolution of the punnet square had out evolved even gregor mendel himself. Put simply, this breed of fish had learned to feed on wild hop beds in the beds of nearly any algae, and offer itself up to sacrifice. The intense neurotoxins within the hypothalamus of the fish made the consumer feel as though they had done something exceptional. The fishing increased, as did the intense hop concentration. “I write to you now from a concentrated bunker in Utah, one of the only territories protected from hops, but, I smell the amazing grapefruit hops, maybe just a single bi-” AUDIO L0G DISC0nTINUED, ver 2.34t5

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Dogfish Head Pangaea, Some things are kept separate for a reason.

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Well after a brief respite, we are back on the grizzy, young brewing bring it back.

Some things are best left separate.

Dogfish Head Pangaea Ale, Belgian strong pale ale 7%

A: very little carbonation, thin light yellow color, slightly dark blonde at top with pilsner apple juice clarity at thinner side of glass, this 1/2 finger head that subsides quickly, light lacing. It could be anything, but only God’s ontological plan knows the true nature of this hateful potation.

It's hard to party with this socially awkward beer.

S: sweet with notes of breads and ginger, candied rice notes, sugary aromas, ginger, ginger, ginger, sugar, and ginger. Also, notes of ginger.

T: The taste is sweet, overridingly so, the sweet notes dominate any maltiness and gives it an almost sugar/malted beverage character, like cider with cane sugar instead of wine/grape notes. its like biting into a gingerbread pastry with the vapor of ginger that lingers long after swallow. It doesn’t get much easier with temp increase, the sugar notes cancel any alcohol or maltiness, there’s very little hops to balance it out, it reminds me almost of the sweetness of mead when it is transferred from the primary to secondary. If it wasn’t so fucking strange, it would seem to be unbalanced or unintentional.

Breaking news, strange beers are afoot, and they are not worth the cost of entry.

M: the mouthfeel is very thin, it would be better if there was some maltiness to balance out the indomitable sweetness. ginger does not belong in beer in this manner. Its like a gingerbread man stomps on the tip of my tongue and scurries down my throat, noting that I will be unable to catch him, true to form.

D: This is exceptionally undrinkable, very rarely do I open a 22oz and wish that it was only a 12oz. I cannot see someone sitting through more than 2 of these, if not sharing the single bottle. It taints my entire palate and makes me welcome something more balanced. If this were a Mario Kart racer, it would be Bowser, but instead of speed, a syrupy sweetness would be his overloaded statistic, much to my chagrin.

Ginger to the domepiece, finally a beer for 3rd world children.

Narrative: That son of a bitch, how dare he show his face in here. “Welcome to Anthropologie” you grit through your teeth. looking at his pastel pink suit, that candyman child molesting son of a bitch. “Don’t I…hey dont I know you from somewhere?” He smells like candied gauze and his scent is gagging sweetness. “Didn’t you used to come to my candy shop all the ti-” he accidentally knocks a vase from the shelf with his gaudy cane. Oh great, now this sweet ginger asshole is ruining your merchandise. “No must be another…sir please, dont drink soda on the rugs” What an inconsiderate prick, getting his syrupy hands all over your things, regailing you with stories of his old candy shop. “NO OK STOP JUST NO, you arent welcome here” “WHY I WAS JUST TRYING T-” NO DONT LISTEN TO HIM. He is grating on your nerves and smells like a Central Valley carnival with saccharine sweetness choking you. “I tried ok…I really tried, there’s nothing here for you, just leave.” And like that, he left, only, that was only the first sip of this gentleman, and you see the tourbus idling in the parking lot. The series of pastel suits filing into the store is not unopressive.

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Dogfish Head World Wide Stout, He’s Got the Whole World, In His Liver.

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Happy New Year. Here’s the perfect beer to read about while you feel like shit.

This is a perfect treat for those who shy away from excess and seek moderate and balanced libation. Psyche.

I am pretty sure that this isn't WWS, but, after drinking it, I have absolutely no recollection.

Dogfishead Worldwide Stout 18% abv, Imperial Stout

A: Liquid ink, with an angry pallour. I am unsure if ink can be pissed off, but I feel like the slight bubbles are mocking me but they rise slowly and linger as if they dont care in their murky depths. There’s some carbonation but it is spiteful in nature. It doesn’t want to be here, it needs another 5 years of rest but here I am, bothering it and shit.

S: It is like a cup of melted licorice and coffee with a soysauce kicker adding an impartial dryness. it feels like the negligent judge from the karate kid movies is just letting me get destroyed sip after sip without regard. There’s a crazy heat to the nose that isn’t bad, just feels like the colors of a monarch butterfly, I shouldn’t be going after this.

I couldn't imagine trying to get anything done after a couple of these merkers.

T: My mouth basically goes through a blue phase and 14 year old Korn fans invade with murky aggression. Tons of coffee that bodyslams the toffee notes that gets leg locked by the drying chocolate. It is summerslam 2011 in your bitter zones and there can be only one. I end up tapping out, I can’t hang with this level of coffee/cocoa abuse. There’s a nice waft of heat and sweet dryness to level off the experience. Shit was so cash.

M: Again, it is absurd and so over the top that the coating takes centerstage. It sets up some good old fashion 19th century imperialism and your molars are rife with its grasp. Be prepared to tell your friends about it and exhale in their face and let them enjoy the magic firstnose. This is the perfect beer if you want to look and smell like a negligent ass parent, great for pre-soccer game festivities for sure.

The world becomes a dangerous place with the World Wide Stout.

D: Absolute failure. No one can drink more than one of these if only on a dare or some fraternal rite of passage. I cannot imagine someone finishing one of these and hankering for another. The entire experience is a chocolate iron maiden with pin and needles just crushing you with inky maltiness.

Narrative: Guillermo had been a janitor at Falling Springs high school for over 13 years, but he held a harrowing secret. He was the darkest individual ever conceived, born with a curse. While the students saw a wayward janitor, this gentleman was born with the curse of humor. You see while he observed the students in their rakish behavior his mind constantly crafted the funniest jokes ever conceived. “Please just, dont dump the chocolate milk in the lockers…ok thank you…” His protestations were fallow seeds cast on infertile ground. No one wanted him there but deep inside he knew his dark secret, internally crafting the most majestic jokes ever, but not sharing him. That was the source of his evil, entirely depriving others of inherent joy. Guillermo was uncaring in his turpentine dispensation. He grit his teeth to suppress the complex pun he crafted and mopped the chocolate milk from the adolescent crime scene.