WELP in case you missed it, Council silently released the other set of the fruited beatitudes yesterday and the 300 bottles sold out in 2 hours. So how do these stack up against the prior iteration? Same crush ability? Yup. More fruit profile? Yup. More complexity? Ehh not really, it’s the same beer, chill Homie.
Let’s get juiced, solid triple berry gear, mad seedy styrations.
Council brewing, airplane base town, Sd, ca
3.8% blueberry, raspberry, blackberry saison. Call an uber.
This is clearly a very beautiful beer and exhibits the entire range of colors found in the room of a preteen Jonas brothers fan. The three prominent items on the label tell me that those “suggestions” may be a nod to the fact that these bottles are going to develop into squirters, just a hunch based on the three imperatives that they chose.
The nose is a touch brackish, muddled berries, blackberry preserves, light salinity, cut plums, and light cornmeal. It is far from those sticky icky New Glarus fruit beers but never veers into the De Garde fruited bu realm either.
This beer is refreshing as hell. Spoiler alert.
The taste is akin to the blueberry batch but much better in the interplay of tart crushable Powerade and legitimate fruit residuals paying fat dividends. You get this crisp bone dry finish like pulling your mouth away from the sweet caress of an Anjou pear, except a touch more grape skin: MY FRUIT DETECTOR NEEDS AN EXTENDED WARRANTY.
If you liked the prior offerings this is better than all but the pineapple, will the raspberry beat them all out? WE SHALL SEE. I am only one person I can finish these massive 3.8% beers back to back AND keep up a reputable K/D ratio on Hardline and the ISO:ft boards.
Go get this tho, drink it alone, let it open up. Don’t be a fucccboi who brings the set to some shitty quicinera of a tasting so everyone gets an ounce. If you get a tiny pour of a beer this delicate, you might just shrug and ask for more Sr71 or whateverthefuxk. Maybe subtle Saisons aren’t compatible with the short attention span of your sloppy goateed face.
When people got they cups but they ain’t ticked in