Lightly tart, not really an amber at all, incredibly fusel, more Diesel than a 15 year old Persian boy.
Yearly Archives: 2012
Midwest Walgreens shelf Turds
I am going to be really alert and super negligent on my post office routes this week.
Fantôme Saison D’Erezée – Été, Slaying that Elusive Ghost Whale.
If you know your saisons, you better have your PK meter ready and Fantome should be on your radar. You may have had Hiver, maybe Noel, or even Printemps if you are a crafty ticker. Hats off to you in your ghost hunting efforts. In today’s review I slay the purple gear god tier boss of Ghost saisons: Fantome Ete. This hasn’t come to the United States in years, and even when this was released, it was incredibly limited. How do I know this? It has a 163 wants, 1 got ratio on a certain site and is as elusive as MewTwo to get your hands on. So in honor of Saison Marathon crushing the non-existent competition, let’s get your Masterballs our for today’s review
Had to lay out so many traps , and service so many Traps, to land this elusive phantasm.
Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV
A: This is a messy orange juice smoothie looking beast. I mean seriously, go look at the clarity on something like Surly Cynic and then compare it to this pulpy microcarbed slimer. There are fine microbubbles throughout with a wispy head that escapes as quickly as the ghost appeared. This looks like an Orange Julius that you get from the mall, and like the mall beverage, you can drink it while scamming for 9th graders. I am not here to tell you how to live your life. Dany Prignon was a little disappointed at the lack of mousse, but I was not disappointed because the mouthfeel was off the charts incredible, but more on that creamypie in a bit.
When a saison tastes like juice, who cares if you know cursive, pound that shit.
S: This is just Jamba Juice and Robecks demolished right into your glass. I remember going into this thinking that some serious pepper/clove was going to be present but it seriously just went orange pulp, apricot, tangelo, grapefruit (acidic though, not like mid alpha acid hops), and a crazy pineapple waft to it. There is a brett musk to it that is acidic as well, like rolling peaches in some old comic books, more bomb than Bullet Bill. I would kill several members of One Direction for another bottle of this.
T: This is incredibly lactic and comes out the gates swinging with a tart apple, high pulp orange juice, pineapple, and a sort of creamsicle vanilla finish to it that is just fantastic. I have never had another saison like this, it is incredibly turbid and messy, but its like an episode of You Cant Do That On Television where you secretly like being slimed by this juicy ghost. Get it on my face plz. If you have had Extra Sour, imaging that beer, with absolutely zero booziness to it, less dry, and more sticky and sour throughout. It is hard to make comparisons to this since it is so unique, but if you took Hill Farmstead Mimosa and added a puree of peaches to it and a smashed up Bisquick roll into it, this is what you would get. Absolutely amazing.
No Fantome Ete in USA? I THOUGHT THIS WAS MERICA.
M: This is the creamiest saison that I have ever had. I can safely say that there is a serious yogurt aspect to this and the swallow has this sweet soy milk thing happening that compliments the fruit in an anechoic chamber of pleasure. Only ghosts can know the peace from this rustling. There is zero dryness to this and it is juice all the way throughout. If you have had one of those Jarritos sodas where they emulate the Orange and Vanilla popsicles, you will get an idea of what is going on here. This is bizarre and comes across like something that Funky Buddha would hazard, but it takes a mad genius in Soy, Belgium to inject that phantom.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and not only does not have any trace of alcohol to it, but it seriously tastes like it is good for you. I cannot fathom how there are no adjuncts in this beer because the fruit profile is so pronounced. In line with the other strange/rare reviews from Saison Marathon, I cannot stress highly enough that you need to lock this one down, which equates to a huge cock stomp to my readerbase, I know. If you can’t land this, dont spray liquid nitrogen on your labias and smash them with a hammer just yet, Dany Prignon and that ghost hunters may make more next year. We can only hope, otherwise bust out that Ouija Board.
When this ghost finally arrived on my doorstep I was all like
Narrative: Coming this fall to SYFY NETWORK: Ghost Listings, a show where experienced Realtors are SUED by former clients for not disclosing that the house that they placed into escrow WAS AS HAUNTED AS SELENA GOMEZ’S VAGINA. “When we first moved in, I figured, oh it is Bloomington, Indiana, hearing people moaning is normal. When I saw the walls start to bleed, I was pretty sure that this wasn’t the garden variety midwest depression that I was told about.” A cursory glance around the turn of the century Craftsman home would not reveal any imperfections, but slowly Mr. Walmsly noticed that something wasn’t right. “Well our daughter started talking about how Purdue was a ‘pretty nice school’ you know, giving up on life, suicidal ideations, that sort of thing.” After living in the home for 3 months, Dave Walmsly discovered a copy of Alien Ant Farm’s “TRUant” in the attic and knew that no living thing could own such a thing. “I was pretty convinced that it was haunted at that point, no conscious being would put themselves through that.”
Our team caught up with Chase Eldridge, noted Indiana Real Estate mogul and discussed the transaction. “This paper just says, ‘this is a matter of GRAVE importance’ what is this, is anyone with your crew even an attorney?” he quipped to our investigative reporters, immediately hostile to our story. “I just don’t know what you are even saying, so in this document it says that the ghost from that house is suing me? Is that even possible, like who does the ghost have jurisdiction over, sorry guys I have a 2pm meeting I have to-” it was clear from his evasive maneuvers that HE HAD SOMETHING TO HIDE FROM THE GHOST LISTINGS CREW. We went out back in the property to the orange/lemon/apricot garden and saw a smoky white mist of collected particles, sobbing gently under the portico. “He just, he said I could stay, and then he started touching the tip of my tail, my ghost tail here, like in a jerking motion, slowly at first-” it was clear at that point that Chase Eldrige was not only a real estate deviant, he was a ghost fucker as well. Another case closed on GHOST LISTINGS.
THIS FALL ON SYFY.
GHOST LISTINGS
Celebrating the mantits of beer nerds everywhere with Russian River Framboise for a Cure
Love this beer so hard.
Hill Farmstead Juicy, Super Nintendo Sega Genesis, When my Cellar was Off-Shelf Man I Couldn’t Picture This
Saison marathon wouldn’t be complete without tossing a new upstart that gets no fewer than 10 ISOs a day, the newest club banger out of those Vermont ballers. This is a wine barrel aged New Zealand hopped saison and continues that proud lineage of Norma/Ann/(HF X beer + wine barrel) that seems to consistently deliver. Any way, enough pageantry and Biggie lyrics, Saison Marathon needs to address NEW HIGHLY SOUGHT SAISONS.
Protip: you will probably not find this for sale at any bar. Don’t ask. Don’t be that guy.
Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.40% ABV
A: This has a bit of a deeper bronze/amber aspect than most of the HF molly dropping saison raves that I am used to attending. This may be less of a light show, but still is a foam party nonetheless. The 375ml gushed harder than an overweight woman after a first date. After it finally settled down, the pour was more tame and left little lacing and seemed more watery than I expected, but perhaps the barrel aged treatments provide some working over to the residual sugars, maybe every beer doesn’t need to leave your glass looking like a haunted house, ever think of that?
This is pleasant, yet terrifyingly drinkable. Approachable, but haunting in execution.
S: This beer is incredibly interesting in the respect that it approaches citrus from both angles and just chinese finger traps your olfactory. You get this dry musky pineapple meets kiwi sort of fruit profile from the hops, but deep down you know it is that trickster alpha oils trying to lure you into its Econoline van. Then at the same time, you have traditional/acidic aspects more akin to “real” fruits like apricot and lemon from the saison and light lactic aspects. Both nose holes filled, just getting jumped in from rival citrus gangs, tatting juice tears on your cheek.
T: This is drier than I expected, but maybe we should cast our prejudices aside. Maybe being raised in a barrel gave it a predisposition for citrusy violence. “Nature vs. Nurture in the Farmhouse World” is the title of my forthcoming Woman’s Studies Thesis where I explain why there are not enough female eukaryotic in the saison industry. Enough fucking around, this tastes like a brett C profile at the outset, like looking through an old yearbook, trolling for digits, that musky paper taste when you lick her picture, those Tommy Hilfiger overalls in Geometry and when she would sit you could see- wait what. So you get brett and then a nice substantial wheat profile like a Hawaiian roll that is sweet but lingers with a flash of bready grist that subsides into this lemongrass and apricot jamba juice boost on the backend. There isn’t as much juice in this as expected largely due to the dry profile, but it ends up more refined as a result. Maybe that girl from Purdue wasn’t as hot as you had hoped, but she was a anthropology major.
Close your eyes, this saison might remind you of a certain transatlantic phantasm. Ethereal farmhouse spirits.
M: This is nowhere near as dry as E. but presents a smattering of elements from a series of the other accomplished entries in the Hill Farmstead catalog. You get this honey aspect that reminds me of Anna, but a sort of substantial wheat aspect that pushes me closer to Arthur, and with loving dryness and light acidity, old Norma watches the fold with loving care, slowly knitting an afghan for the coming Vermont winter. It ends up being a Voltron of several good qualities but not overdoing it on any one area, like playing as Yoshi in Mario Kart. One thing that bothers me is when the uninitiated saison asshole seeks this out because “IS GOOD RATEING!” and complains 1) wut this isn’t sour or 2) saisons are a simple style, etc. Fortunately, if someone is actually drinking this, they likely know what they are in for.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and I can see why people wanted multiples of such an exceptional beer. The ABV hides under the porch waiting for citrus mommy and hop daddy to stop fighting. The 375 is almost a punishing format for a beer that disappears this quickly. It would be like if Live Oak finally bottled their Hef and then used 25cl bottles. My room would look like a CRV depository. In sum, another amazing beer from HF that pushes another elegant etching into the arabesque of the saison world. I can’t think of an analog to seek out to emulate this, which is something noteworthy in the beer world.
If this were a larger format, I would be Gucci Mane faded all day long.
Narrative: Turritopsis nutricula floated lazily in the Chardonnay medium. Barefoot Winery would have never suspected that the salt conditioning of their barrels would contain this prolific common rider, dancing lazily in the fluid. He was a resilient jelly, not insubstantial in grace or refinement. Some would argue that he was out of place in the lower end wine game, but he held a deep secret: NUTRICULA IS ETERNAL. I say that not in the Aristotelian way that he will remain in history forever, he was literally immortal. Whenever the changing tides of acidity or oak would affect him, he would embrace the citrus and float daintily down and respawn buds anew, changing his tissue to embrace the tannins in a new life. He was the lazarus of the depths of abject alcoholism, each time reborn with new strength. This diversity and power came from the polyp, for only by returning to life’s beginnings can one truly apprehend the beauty of a $7 bottle of wine, sometimes the negligent beginning of another life. Turritopsis would wait, elusive, ever changing, fortified by alcohol, oak, and juice; the Tuck Everlasting of the beverage world.
McKenzie Brew House Saison Du Bois, Blanche Dubois Relying on the Courtesy of Strangers
SAISON MARATHON HAS TO REVIEW RARE SAISONS SOMETIMES TOO.
This rare ass saison practically fell into my lap and I completely lucked out being able to trade for this. I had zero hopes of landing something like this with a bottle count in the magical sub-400 level. I have found that landing these ambrosial treats, no matter how whaleish, is almost always easier than dealing with that pesky BA Stout and BA Barleywine territory. I am also fucking things up for those of us covert saison lovers with all of these reviews but, anything is possible if 50 fucked Vivica.
Straight up BIC pen on the label, 372 bottles .rars to the fullest, monster monster tickers I got it.
McKenzie Brew House
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.00% ABV
A: This has a beautiful aspect to it and just the right amount of carbonation and overall this saison hits the aristotelian mean on all fronts, not too spicey, not too dry, not too over carbed, just a solid Mario ass saison. The result is an exceptional exercise in moderation that is noteworthy for that very reason. This looks like a apricot juice and has a cumulus nimbus fluffy white crown to it.
400 bottle release? I would hit that shit.
S: This goes for an incredibly herbal aspect to it that lays out the sod first and seeds up some beds of wet turf, finally closing with a sort of lemon zest meets yearbook musk for the noscope headshot. I really enjoy it, despite the fact that it doesn’t lean entirely towards the light acidity that I enjoy out of my saisons. If every saison were the same they would be IPAs and what is the fun in that shit? Let hopheads initiate beer n00bs, I don’t have time for that shit. This is big boy beer bangers, more snare in my headphones.
The saison is a graceful, award winning style that is always a bit funky.
T: This follows the nose with a dryness and herbal aspect to it that reminds me almost of an herbal fernet branca sort of vibe that immediately gives way to that acidic aspect that I was looking for IN THE FIRST PLACE. The lactic aspects were not pronounced on the nose but then they lazily show up with oranges and tangelo in tow, imparting a post menopausal dryness that only Glenn Close could replicate. This finishes with a sort of chamomille aspect to it that is refreshing and relaxing at the same time.
M: No shocker here, you can’t snort rails of Earl Grey all day and not expect some dryness. Hell, if you rub darjeeling on your eurethra and go to town, you will last for hours. This saison is much the same way, herbal but provides that refreshing blast to keep your coming back for another drying sip. The light acidity gives this a finish like biting into an Anjou pear, straight up revitalizing.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable, but you should have already picked that up from the foregoing. There’s this sort of clarity to the complicated elements that is united under the wheat and brett character. This is another one of those reviews where I tell you to seek out a 300 bottle release and end up looking like a twatwaffle, but, seek it out. Get on that grizzy.
Saisons might not be the most desired style of beer, but they are amazing on the inside.
Narrative: Dig, oxidize, seed, cover, aerate, hydrate, harvest; it was the same thing day in and day out at Sodtech Inc. The contingency of scientists and resident honduran lawn technicians worked away busily harvesting new strains of lusher and lusher grasses. The recent strain of fescue was redolent with bluebell and felt like those velour tracksuits that Persian housewives are wont to wear. Somehow, Adam Walters felt that this existence left something to be desired. Sure he patented an azure seedling that was hydroefficient, but ever since Claire left the lab, he felt a deep dryness in his heart. He was the head of his Botany class and revolutionized his hydroponics seminar but he could not forget her flaxen locks, the way she would add ammonium nitrate to the bedding solution. She was pure grace with gloves that smelled of Barefoot Chardonnay. Alas, perhaps being a grass lab provocatuer was not the most efficient way to court the ladies, knee deep in animal dung, thinking about fertilization that could have been.
Fantome Dark White BBB Saison, Black Hat, Black Shades, Dark White Ghost, Oh Behave.
Dany Prignon kills it in the saison scene and spares no hides when it comes to strange new takes on what was almost a completely lost style. This is my favorite style of beer from one of my absolute favorite breweries. I try to swing things around from brewery to brewery, but this particular beer was so damn strange and phenomenal that I had to give props to the ghosthunters in Soy and tell the haters to count those funky spokes. Bring your flashlight, we are telling ghost stories.
The BBB stands for Better Business Bureau, which is srs bzness in Belgium.
Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 4.00% ABV
A: This does not look like your typical saison outing and it looks more like a biere de garde in execution but aint nobody complaining. The carbonation is actually ratcheted back from the usual “cork hitting the ceiling levels that this crazy ghost loves to present. These bottles can be dangerous. There is a deep copper meets watery bronze look to this that goes off the beaten hay/golden/orange juice look of many other saisons, but ain’t nobody complaining. I enjoy the light lacing, little spotty foam like a jacuzzi that has too many people in it.
If you open this at a tasting, you instantly become the pimp of the year
S: This has a light lactic tartness on the nose that is faint and reminds me of Fuji Appleas, you get a little bit of musk like puppy fur, and there’s some hay and faint herbal aspects to this. Everything feels like it has been turned down a couple notches. It is a gentle Fantome, the most chill of the ghosts, timid but sweet in execution.
T: This has an incredible musk meets light tartness to it like lightly salted hawaiian rolls. The mild honey pokes its head through the curtains and sees that its stepdad, lemon peel, has attended the rehearsal. All is well. This is simple but incredibly refreshing in the sweet meets light funk and light tart. Everything is just gentler and drapes a bretty shoulder over your shoulders to comfort you.
If you plan on getting into Fantomes, say goodbye to your expensable income. srs.
M: This is incredibly light and crisp as the same time. The watery aspects wash away clean, leaving you no time to ruminate over that should have been. The splishy splashy aspects make this on the Hill Farmstead Clara level of refreshing drinkable. If this bottle wasn’t $15.99, it might actually be sessionable, but I don’t know how hard you ball. I could drink this all day while watching a Night Court marathon, but that is how I roll.
D: Again, just exceptional in the way that it is present and memorable but doesn’t make the entire date about itself. It lets you tell canned anecdotes and nods lovingly in a refreshing manner. I love how the crisp tartness washes away immediately and the light funk gives it a solid backbone to lean its ghostly ass upon. My only complaint is that a beer this refreshing and simple should COST LESS, but that is hardly a fair criticism to lay upon the beer itself. Beer don’t know about no economics.
This is a little darker than I expected, but no one is disappointed.
Narrative: Construction of the trebuchet was not going as planned. Despite Leonardo’s assurances of improved design, the siege would invariably take longer than anticipated and the fields of Milan would remain in Ducal control. Salvatorri doffed his cap and kicked a rock in front of him and looked out upon the Palazzo. “We-a never-a gonna finish this-a siege!” he bemoaned in what could only be deemed a completely racist dialect. The counter balance was all off and the projectiles wouldn’t make it over the dominating granite walls, design to repel Papal control. Just then, a fantasm appeared out of the olive groves, glowing a deep golden hay color, wearing an anachronistic bowler cap. “Weeeeell hey fellas! Plannin a castle takeover? THAT SURE SOUNDS SWELL!” the ghost smiled and draped his ethereal arms around the 15th century soldiers. “mio Dio!” Salvatorri exclaimed, but was instantly put at ease by the gentle approach and amiable smile of this old ghost. Some would call him, Booberryesque. The lazy approach to things and finesse put all of the Romagna troops at ease and soon enough, the old catapult was as good as new. Later, while impressing Milanese people into forced servitude and accepting plenary indulgences for killing traitors, that old easy going ghost showed up again, wearing a pair of overalls and a straw hat. Salvatorri continued pushing a dirk into a wailing serf and winked back and that old trickster ghost.
Surly CynicAle, For All The Sophists, Cynics, Epicureans, and Stoics
SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS SAISONS IN CANS.
I figured for saison week, we have to have something relatively NORMAL up in the mix so that people don’t think that Saisons are exclusively for pretentious assholes. This saison is not only 1) amazing and 2) off the shelf but it also 3) comes in a can. That means you can slam this shit at the lake, while installing that body kit on your 1997 Eclipse GST, or while watching your kid play teeball. This is a rough and tumble sessionable saison that is ready for combat at all times. This may not have a huge funk or wild aspect to it, but god damn it if this isn’t a refreshing example of the style. Let’s pop open some cans in today’s review:
Being Cynicale can make you emotional.
Surly Brewing Company
Minnesota, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.70% ABV
A: This has a radiant gold color to it with an incredible amount of carbonation that rises to the occasion. There is a moderate amount of lacing and the whole affair is bright and uplifting like a Michael Bay movie where you know that the saison hero is going to come out on top. There isn’t a ton of cling or thickness to the carbonation and it subsides like the emotions of a teenage girl, pretty quickly.
Kill a 4 pack of this, wake up in the morning like “the fuq we do?”
S: This is the most straightforward telling of the saison story that I have had in a while. Since it is pasteurized you obviously don’t get any musk or funk or wild characteristics. However, what is lacks in the wild, it makes up for in the decadent sweet treat department. There’s a deep honey and clove and bubblegum smell to this beer and a cornbread backend like pies cooling on old timey windowsills. There’s also a light peach/pear aspect going on but it is like the background vocals in a Coheed song, you hardly notice them at all.
T: This is incredibly refreshing from the outset with a nice punch of clove and pepper with some bisquik biscuits and some bubblegum that has lost its flavor. It is tough to describe that lingering waxiness but it is delicious and washes away clean. There are some light fruits and a sort of buttery biscuit finish. Again, this isn’t the most ambitious example of the style but at least it doesn’t go on some Surly hop rampage.
This is a strange beer, but totally enjoyable.
M: This is incredibly light and makes you wonder why anyone tries to session any other type of beer when this has the abv, the finish, the look, and the YM charm that gets those teenagers so feided. The whole affair is a flavor bomb with minimal effort. The 16oz can is appropriate and I wish I would get these as extras more often because I rarely want to go out of my way to seek this out on its own because it never seems to last long in my house. BigLobo sent me a 4 pack of it and that shit was merked like John Connor at a Skynet convention.
D: Read the foregoing, this is exceptionally drinkable and totally affordable. The thing I don’t understand is why it is only for sale in places that are frozen for 80% of the year. Ain’t nobody tryna drink a farmhouse ale while ice fishing or whatever it is they do in Minnesota while they aren’t watching the Twins and Vikings lose.
This beer will get you feided on that purp.
Narrative: Sally Weathers was a content housewife enjoying the gentle respite provided by fall in Minnesota. The children were busy outside playing in an igloo that they had just constructed and she lovingly nodded while chopping the iced root vegetables for her famous tundra cabbage stew. It seemed as though the harvest season passed so quickly this year that she scarcely had time to break out the summer jackets from storage. “WHOMP!” a snowball struck the window and she playfully waved a knife at her child through the kitchen window while watching her son jump around in the 9 inches of September snowfall. She longed for the growing seasons that she enjoyed as a child in Salinas, California. She missed receiving that mortgage statement and paying well over $3,000.00 to live in a land not completely forgotten by the civilized world. Those majestic 42 days of sun seemed to pass so quickly, but it was hard to leave when the State paid her family not to leave. Furthermore, work at the ice harvesting farm was plentiful and she could take vitamin D supplements and wait for the sun to return. Life in Minnesota wasn’t easy, but at least she didn’t have to harvest superficial Persian interactions, elective surgeries, American Apparel clothing, and emotionally bankrupt aspiring actresses. Life is all about compromises like the passing of the seasons.
High and Mighty Don Cornelius brown ale aged in bourbon barrels with coffee
Not sure if the light acidic aspect is from coffee or the oak, but a lightly roasty, kinda forgettable foray into lofty aspirations. Kinda janky.
Wale Tastings with too. Many. Fucking. People.
It is about that time of year when everyone wants to plan an epic tasting. The problem usually is, everyone wants to join or everyone only has a single wale to contribute. So what happens? Fucking 19 people at a tasting sharing 22oz walez and discussing the nuances of their thimble dick pours.
If you are gonna harvest blubber, scale back your frigate. You don’t need an epic squad on deck. If you do roll that deep, you will get 1 molar unit of Dirty Horse and can you then attempt to actually review it?
Here is what the reviews should look like for 90% of the epic wale tastings:
“A: uh the light entirely permeates the single drop I received. S: smells like an empty 6oz snifter, glass, air. T: oxygen, slight moisture M: coats just the top on your tongue well D: the raindrop I received was substantial, would drink again 5/5”
Full pours. Small crews. Real reviews. And underage fapping.
dontdrinkbeer 