Listen I don’t like typing this and I know you don’t want to hear this: this might be the most accessible to quality Beer this side of [every year except this year’s] Parabola. Say all you want and twist your areolas about macrobeer and toxic ownership, I get it. I don’t want to get into those weeds but the quality of this is undeniable, slick heft without a lack of control, a degree of waffle cone intent that never feeds into a yankee candle flatland one dimensionality. The nose doesn’t exude rye sadly and the spirit could even be neutral oak because the bean oils are so dominant, but it’s fine: the end result is Kit Kats for days. One drawback is a touch of sharp spice akin to oversteeped coffee that is likely the rye showing up at the end of the elementary school performance to tell his stupid stepson he went. We get it, you’re Joseph or whatever. The mouthfeel has lean power like that dude with a tight frame that powerlifts and if he tried to kiss you you’d like resist but not hard because you feel so safe- wait what were we talking about. Nice Vanilla, nice slice of coldstone fellatio, but not in the god tier realm of cream churners. But still like a GOLF R, damn impressive and a lot of drumstick cost to bean ratio.