2010 Lost Abbey Cable Car, The Worst Year of Them All is Still Better Than Most All Other Beers

Alright back down to business, fucking eastern europeans and slaying onsite only walez. This vintage is the one most people have the most complaints about, good ole 2010. When I say most people, I mean “prissy fucking beer nerds” you know, the guys who look like lumberjacks but watch Deep Space Nine, those kinda people. So everyone loves 2009, 08 has a great character, 07 is the famous wale, and kriek is a monster on its own, but what about this asshole, the 2010? Well, let’s pick this shitbasket apart in today’s review.

Back in 2010 you were still working on that GED

Back in 2010 you were still working on that GED

The Lost Abbey
California, United States

Style | ABV
American Wild Ale | 7.00% ABV

A: This is pretty similar to the other cable cars in the trolley lineup, deep orange hues, some amber at the center and dark yellowing at the edges. This is the darkest of the Cable Cars that I have had, but still delivers on carbonation and lacing. So if you are the tired ass jokester making Kentucky/Rare jokes and Three Floyd’s burned down fucking quips, look, a carbonated Lost Abbey beer, go watch Paul Reiser standup.

Here to slay walez and amuse the fuck out of you. SING ME A SONG DDB.

Here to slay walez and amuse the fuck out of you. SING ME A SONG DDB.

S: This has a nice lactic waft of peaches and apricots at the outset but something is slightly amiss at the backend, a type of lavender/grassy aspect is on the back end and I really cant place it as a hoppy presence because it doesn’t quite seem vegetal, it is almost like something from Bed Bath and Beyond or some weird shit. That aspect is why this is like the jankiest Ferrari on the lot, that is the Cable Car lineup. Also, this one comes the closest on delivering a true overseas full Belgian prostitute completion. The waft has this mushroom meets crushed yard trimmings funkiness to it that the other sour patch kids do not have. It is more complex, but flawed as a result. Think of the musk in Doesjel if you need clarification.

T: This imparts that tart acidity that was expected, but also drops a nice cheesy/leather aspect when it finishes. You get a bonus deal of fruits and some dairy, if you know what I am saying. If you don’t, you are at the wrong fucking website, go try reddit.com/beer or some other shit. I like the nectarine going on but again that bitter earthy finish makes this my least favorite of the san francisco treats.

Pop a Cable Car. Pick up chicks.

Pop a Cable Car. Pick up chicks.

M: This is extremely dry, but also funky that leaves this lingering bitterness as well. If you can imagine an imperial glass of chardonnay paired with a semisoft cheese, that is the mouthfeel through and through. Some people like it, other people jack off to Lena Dunham. I am not here to tell you what to crank it to.

D: This is, despite its faults, actually one of the more drinkable Cable Cars because of the complexity and it ratchets back the acidity. Hell, maybe it balances it out, I am not a chemist. At any rate, the end product is something like buying a Z4, it is still very nice, but for the money and effort there are far better offerings in both Cable Car and other breweries alike. If you just want to be a completionist and get the tick, this one should be the easiest to lock down. If you are seeking a 2007, good fucking luck, you will need to bust out Bolt Cutter or some serious walez for that.

When people make fun of you for only having the 2010 CC vintage be like-

When people make fun of you for only having the 2010 CC vintage be like-

Narrative: Paul’s Toyota Supra Dealership in Billings, Montana wasn’t the best business entity from the get go. Paul Sharpe knew that going into things. Everyone told him “hey maybe open it up to other import sports cars” or “hey maybe rural Montana isn’t your target market. Paul didn’t give a shit. He loved his art and wanted the world to see the Toyota Supra in the same light that he did. From the lowly Supra Celica to the glorious Paul Walker MKIV Supra, his twin turbos spooled hard in his heart for this obscure automotive gem. Of all the Toyota sports cars on his lot, he had the hardest time moving the ultra shitty MKII. No one wanted that god forsaken turdbox. It looked like something from Blade Runner meets a run down Transformer. A relic from an earlier time whose purpose had been lost over the ages. Somehow, old Paul had an affinity for even the shittiest of Supras and wanted everyone else to love the early-80’s for what they were, not what they remembered of them.

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