Crazy morning calls for some barrel aged succor. Beachwood ten is slick and nimble, cicerones go crazy for pour sized thimble.

Beachwood barrel aged beers end up being ironically polarizing to people with janky palates because they are allegedly “too” dialed in. I love that brewhouse efficiency is a negative thing in the current climate because it leaves the nuanced and old school executed (read: not FG 1.050+) gems for the OGs.

This is akin to the stellar anniversary series from Central Waters in that it imparts milk chocolate, like char, roasted pumpernickel and burnt mallow foam for all the s’more microwave enthusiasts.

The mouthfeel is clean and dances on the head of a pin, never watery but also without a hefty Floridian cling. Perhaps not the greatest base for adjuncts but I am perfectly fine with that, and I don’t see beachwood servicing that market anyway. They craft focused, drilled, spartan ales that deliver to those with the capacity for appreciation. 

All day.

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