15% abv for deep pump and liver failure on the big climbs n0x shred sweating heaven hill on the straights
Monthly Archives: October 2014
Willett rye be like I WOKE UP LIKE THIS. single barrel FLAWLESS seven year FLAWLESS.
Grinding on that wood , grind, grinding on that wood.
@sideprojectbrew Grisette is superior to Lady in Grey and might be better than the last batch of Clara. Outstanding Grisette toe to tip.
Side project is a brewery known more for panache in execution and excess in monoculture rather than nuanced gentle representations to style, so a soft biere de pays gave me pause knowing their bold framework of tart farmhouse ales. This did not disappoint and is executed in a strangely restrained fashion out of comport with the rest of their catalogue. The nose is pear and peach blossom, a touch of lemon zest and a faintly brackish salinity in the waft. The taste is exceptionally refreshing and evokes Carmelized pear, lemon merengue, fresh cut grass and a sort of Riesling oakiness that is soft and diaphanous on the gum line. The acidity never oversteps it’s boundaries and serves as a supporting character rather than chewing the scenery. The mouthfeel is like biting into a fresh nectarine and washes away clean with a hard alkaline profile that leaves nothing residual on the palate and begs for larger swallows.
It’s hard to beat sweet succor and jokes when something is this gentle and well done, I could go for some midget porn references or try and work up some child skin callbacks, but we shall live to yuk another day. Suffice it to say, this is a phenomenal beer and oddly the most overlooked from the Side Project releases, which is quite the travesty.
Lone Pint Yellow Rose is tied for the best IPA to ever come out of the south: cockstaggering and delicious
My love for NODA hop drop n roll is well documented, we need not revisit those deep piles of Eros at this juncture. This is the first ipa to come from the southern United States, [inb4 “Texas is a republic gods country ain’t not the south nowhere like it on earth can’t call it the south the annexing was improper president Harrison was a snake oil grifter” and all that shit] since HDnR that came out the gates swinging with such hoppy panache and citrus aplomb that I couldn’t help but rank the two abreast.
This beer was still delicious and it was sent across the country in a fucking cherry Pepsi plastic 2 liter. Think about that. The carb was gentle and foamy with a light creaminess like HF Edward, the look was a full brassiness that wasn’t radiant but seemed poised to judo chop your jugular with alpha oils.
The nose is a deep bouquet of grapefruit, lemongrass, pine, tangelo, and a hint of nectarine with a light honey finish. It is phenomenal and you can huff this like those Lemon sir marks a lot markers from your youth. The taste is nimble and clean with a lingering stickiness to the mouthfeel like a baby Hopslam, a touch of agave and deep citrus pith, the whole affair is refreshing and simultaneously substantial. It is distinctively west coast in execution and transplanted immaculately, like a first growth taking to nitrogen fixation as though it were native soil. If you are a botanist, I will allow yoga moment to clean the cream out of your jeans from that last simile.
This is not only worth trying, it is worth actively seeking out as there likely won’t be a readily available local analog to this phenomenal IPA. Highly recommended.
Just grip that growler hard, caress the foamy opening.
Never hurts to have a solid JO session right before bed. It is Just Outstanding.
This batch was a bit maltier and more resinous that previous batches, but still such a phenomenal IPA.
Hnnnggg.
Full cone completion .
1995(?) Fantome Li Djerinne, a beer made for the club des jeunes, but now they straight tous grandi.
Look at that muddy hen, all oxidized and laying in the pooling damp earth insouciantly. This is a dirty ghost that doesn’t use deodorant but is old enough to make it’s own decisions. The carb held up nicely for these 19 years and the HP bubble jet label is looking stately.
The nose of this beer exhibits a good amount of cork, plywood, a slightly bready and yeasty profile like over ripe banana and a light metallic finish. The taste has a caramel aspect up front that lingers into a mineral/Fuji apple light tartness that is pretty pleasant. The entire affair has a musky canvas tarp draped over it, exhibiting an attic love that only fellow antiquers will appreciate. If you stroke it to storage wars and love rooting around in the hulls of frigates, this oaky oxy adventure might have the musk levels you require.
Orphan Barrel Barterhouse 20 Year, an over-oaked lacquer adventure.
There are certain bourbons that may benefit from additional aging, that EC20 being a prime example. This Orphan Annie comes across like it hit full saturation in the oak and then kept on sprinting. The nose has a nice floral aspect, lumber mill shavings, and a faint varnish aspect to it. Your wood is getting worked one way or another.
The taste is again, so much lumber and oak, but incredibly mellow and lacking any real scorching solvent aspect to the swallow. The heat is muted and you essentially receive a cord of firewood in exchange for the dark fruits or sweet notes you would anticipate from younger variants. Pretty tasty but my baby palate still prefers the toffee and buoy of fruity safety.
I don’t know shit about bourbon. I’m just posting these to mix things up a bit.
Pray for the D.
It’s pretty tough to find a better beer than fresh Alpine Nelson. Absolutely phenomenal every time.
I miss the days when this sat on shelves in Whole Foods. I am glad I don’t have access to this otherwise this site would be nothing but pics of this and Humulus lager every night
And Zima xxx.
2004 Zima XXX Fruit Punch, The Definitive American Kriek
Well look at what we have here, an immaculately cellared malt beverage from the mid 2000’s, that formidable period from before you shaved your pubes. I actually actively sought this out because it is historically relevant for the oft-over looked malt liquor genre. In the late 1990’s Zima was marketed initially as an “unbeer” for that HUGE segment of young men who can’t handle the aggressive profile of adjunct lagers. They later tried marketing it to women sexist manner until finally it seemed that the old HMS Zima had taken on too much water.
This was their incredible solution. They made ZIMA XXX, the hard as fucking nails version with a SKY HIGH 5.9% abv for those edgy motherfuckers who read HP Lovecraft and carry switchblade combs. Initially this was Black Cherry flavor but they did a limited run of this, the hardest variant to find, HARD PUNCH. Ultimately the brand died out shortly thereafter and this is both a precursor to the malted beverages pushed upon the XX chromosomal order. Without these trailblazing alcoholic sodas, those 13 year old kids may have not discovered their alcoholism until undergrad. Dentists and AA counselors alike salute this beer for its contributions to the “pre-consumer” market. That’s what macros like to call baby palates who can’t buy alcohol yet, but still want to fingerbang.
Let’s get to it and figure out how hard this punch is. I hope it is throbbing hard.
God if ever there were a time to dust off a “robeyy tonezzz” reference, it is now.
Zima XXX
Malt Beverage, 5.9% abv
MADE WITH NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS
A: Say what you will about this ridiculous vessel of afterbirth, but god damn is it beautiful. The carbonation still held up after a decade and cascades magenta and bright pink foam crackling against the edges like pop rocks. It almost immediately subsides and, apparently gallons or red 5 and jolly ranchers inhibit lacing. You learn something new every day. Like the Lisa Frank binders owned by the people this is marketed to, this has a fuschia radiance that honestly looks like Cable Car Kriek in a big way. Imagine the refill trolling opportunities. JUST IMAGINE THEM.
Pop open a Zima and pray that you can beat Giygas. Get 6th grade wasted.
S: You know those candy stores in the mall where all the pedophiles hang out? The ones where you take a plastic sack and fill up on a $18 of candy you would never buy separately, like GUMMY GUITARS and sea salt mexican taffy? Well this smells like those. It hits your eyes before your nose and has a waft like a malfunctioning cotton candy machine, just sugar and artificial cherry like Bubblelicious smashed with Melody Pops. The whole thing feels like an imperial Red Shasta more than an alcoholic beverage and children will hoover this up off a plate like so many wanting MyFreeCamsGirls.
Finally ticked the rarest Zima, now I can get some rest.
T: Before you open this, go ahead and schedule a dental cleaning. While you are at it, go ahead and book a colonic as well. This is so intensely sticky sweet that it tastes like if you melted down fruit by the foot and served it as a parfait to unsuspecting guests with insulin as a sidecar. I can’t imagine any self respecting adult could seriously finish one of these. It’s kinda like getting your dick sucked by a clown: a sweet, shameful event that makes for an interesting story, but no one could bring it to full completion unless you are a truly sick individual. The swallow is like the inside of those wax bottles with juice in them and closes with a highly nuanced Skittles coating along the gumline. I can only imagine how many Latter Day Saints ditched seminary to get their mouths coated bright red in clear recalcitrance to Joseph Smith. Str8 rebelz.
M: This is stick sweet and closes with a plastic waft like when you chew gum for too long. There is no alcohol, there is no grain or grist, it is simply melted HiChews in a glass. If you like Now N Laters, like I mean, you fucking love sessioning an entire pack of them, you might be able to take an entire bottle of this down. The subsequent offerings like Mikes Hard Lemonade and Hard Ciders are infintitely better in execution and drinkability. If you gave this to an 8 year old and told them this was what beer was, you can expect a lifetime of tee tolling. Your kid would be at a Frat Party like “what? You guys drink that shit? No I had beer in 3rd grade, it tasted like edible condoms and cherry astroglide, no thanks.”
The grim reaper will prevent you from earning that Zima cash
D: I need to reiterate this: I traded for this. I actively sought it out and I couldn’t finish the whole thing. You have a better chance of finishing a bag of Halloween candy that you found under the radiator in August than taking down 12 ounces of this. If the panache of regular old Robitussin isn’t doing it for you and you find that your liquid codeine needs a more refined companion, this may be your jam. Fill up a double cup of this decade old beverage and start telling people about how you are gonna open a tattoo parlor, once your parole officer gets off your fuckin back. It is a cherry disaster of Squeezit proportions and no amount of puppies could lure me into an Econoline van if I saw one of these bad boys lurkin.
People are seed pissed about this recent Mother Earth Brewing ad
I feel like we already covered this.
TIMEOUT.com tackles sexist beer labels, srs untread ground, Pulitzer prizes on deck
dontdrinkbeer 