If your memory goes back a few months in DDB time (eons for most cellar dwellers) I reviewed a series of Other Half beers and they were bigger firestarters than Prodigy.
So time passes and I wanted to check in on those old rakes to see how their philanderin ways were progressing, sadly they are not swinging haymakers in the first round like they usta. This round is a series of sloppy, oddly placed jabs. A lot of hits to the collarbone.
So the hopmasters enter the stout game and, suffice it to say, it is with mixed results. This is certainly dialed in, cleanly attenuated but with enough residual malty body for the hops and mouthfeel to tapdance upon; but the dance is super offputting. It’s like bumping and grinding with pelvic thrusts of phenolic nose, tobacco, Copenhagen, black permanent marker, fresh tagging, and the aftermath of a Mikkeller Black Hole tasting.
This is no syrupy bomb with brewing flaws, it lies in the conception of the beer. Some people love this ultra continental European execution, dank meets leathery, like the back row of a Type O Negative show. The Sepultura taste lingers with this overextraction of black patent malt tannins or someone intentionally oversparged this for an intentional bitterness.
when a brewer try to sell me sharpie stouts, they bout to catch this fade.
alright moving on to some hoppy shit, their classic wheelhouse, no way they can fuck this up:
Spoiler alert: they fucked this up. Unless this is the year 2008 and that isn’t supposed to be an Amber ale, that IPA looks like shit even by late 2000s east coast standards. Alright but even Just Outstanding still sometimes looks like that, how does it taste tho? You get this vegetal/arugula/shallot/baby kale sort of business that certainly shows no expense was spared in the hop bill but…where the fuck is the majesty from my prior review? This is THEIR THING. This would be like Kuhnhenn fucking up an Old Ale (except that sour one from last year which we dont talk about, remember.) The mouthfeel is creamy and FEELS like it should bang on 808 drums but it gets oily and patchouli-esque real quick.
Like Ulysses, I took a few sips of this and put it back on the shelf so I could be conversational about it but not have any real depth, but I will maintain like I finished the whole thing and now it is beneath me, but secretly I know that I don’t have the greco-classical/biblical/middle high ages background to appreciate…this…IPA.
But, thank god, this beer fucking rules:
Talk about a match made in fucking heaven. The precision of Other Half, the gristy turbidity of Tired Hands, this beer is practically already foraging and making condescending comments about oyster sourcing. The look is great and the oaty creaminess looks like Quaker Dabs. The retention leaves a bit to be desired but, who gives a shit, this beer rules. You get so much depth and a blast of Orange Julius, lemon meringue, sliced kiwi, there’s a classic grassiness like amarillo/simcoe but then it veers off into ultra-post-modern-hop territory with dactyllian hexameter pumping out ga AL ax EEE, and mo SAY eCK. EPIC STRUCTURING TO BE SURE.
I could drill this like a Megaman 3 boss and still get Wily. The mouthfeel is on point and coats like Chobani or tzatziki sauce with an oily finish that flexs on even the Trilliums and Treehouses of the world. If you don’t lock this beer down, you are the type of dude who does modified diamond pushups. Get your shit together already it isn’t that hard, get off your hoppy knees, this is real ticker shit.
Some people get their shit together in waves. dont judge, dont hate.
So whatever, 2 weak beers, 1 phenomenal beer. Other Half has a .333 batting average, I dont even think Kirby Puckett had that
OH SHIT HE CLOSED IT WITH A REFERENCE TO KIRBY FUCKIN PUCKETT I TOL U DDB THE REALEST THEY IS WHO ELSE LIVE LIEK THIS!?!?!?!?!