Top 10 Beers That New Money Palates Will Not Drink

September 4, 2018 | dontdrinkbeer

In a beer scene increasingly dominated by monoculture acid bombs, trubtastic slurrycans, and flabby batterwater, many iconic beers have fallen by the wayside. New palates have neither the time nor attention span for these outdated beers from the past. These beers represent the educational arc that many beer enthusiasts would imbibe on their way to honing their palate. We now exist in an instaRone paradigm, where learning is passe and not knowing is vulnerability. Now the beer journey begins and ends with a 16% double barrel pastry stout and new beer palates don a jaunty expert cap and instantly dislocate their rotator cuff patting themselves on the back.

As a result, these are the top 10 beers that New Money palates will never drink:

orval

Brassiere D’Orval – Orval

Good luck trying to get someone from the 2017 BJCP class to open one of these. A Belgian beer that isn’t lambic hypewater? That will nerf your IG engagement. Once you tell them it is also a pale ale, watch their Supreme bucket hat sink lower as they try to reconcile why they would drink this classic, genre-defining beer, let alone age one.

adam

Hair of the Dog – Adam

A hoppy old ale that isn’t even barrel aged? “So it’s like, J Wakefield Wilderness in Paradise? Where that fruit at tho?” They will inquire. This classic beer from the 90’s is akin to dusting off a Zip Disk and explaining that “AT THE TIME 100mb was quite a lot!” The layers flavors of tobacco and caramel are an old sage pressing a Zune into their palm and attempting to explain a pre-Wakefield existence.

Brouwerij van Steenberge – Gulden draak

If you thought getting someone who listens to Lil Xan to drink a BPA was hard, wait until you foist a Belgian Dark Triple on their unwilling palates. The nuance of a boozy ester-driven beer will confuse and disorient someone if LANGST was the closest thing they have enjoyed. Fold your arms and watch them start playing Fortnite on Switch as you try to explain how the beer is refermented with Bordeaux wine yeast. It’s too late, they’re recording a Music.ly lip synching Charlie Puth while chugging some Other Half cans. You’ve lost them.

ANAL

Alesmith – Old Numbskull

A hoppy barleywine: your task is futile from the beginning. Modern palates want a 12 plato finishing “barleywine” that drinks like a caramel frap stout. It better be pitch black and taste like liquid turbinado sugar. Worse still, you’ll be subject to the tired refrain of “AGED IPAS ARE BARLEYWINES LOLOL TROOF #MOOD” as the new money ticker cackles in his Yeezy Boosts having employed a timeworn bit of levity passed down to him on high.

fantome

Fantome – Saison

A neophyte beer nerd will wince at Fantome saison and wonder what went so wrong because the pH isn’t even below 3.0. You will have to turn off CrunchyRoll and try to explain how esters are important and why the bottle is green. It’s too late, they don’t want to hear about the Ghost, they have already logged into Discord.

oerbier

De Dolle – Oerbier

“This is a strong dark ale? It’s only 9.5%” they will scoff in their Diamond Supply Co. hoodie and dump the 2oz pour from a filthy taster glass. This beer that shaped so many intersubjective notions about aged beer and nuanced “high gravity” ales will not be compelling to anyone who grew up watching Ed Edd and Eddie. They will expertly describe this as an IMPERIAL RED on Untappd and drop a hot 120 character review before firing up Soundcloud and cracking some Hoof Hearted cans.

GLBC

Great Lakes Brewing Company – Edmund Fitzgerald

One look at a “porter” and that paper thin abv and you already lost the modern consumer. What is even the point when porters are supposed to be at least 12%+ abv and component barrel aged. A nuevo dinero palate will likely correct you and note that this beer is actually a black IPA, another style they do not drink. The final nail will be the realization that this is sold in six packs, the death knell for any neo-cicerone hype beast who thrives on loss. “Mults drive secondary down bc then ppl have more products to flip, the 1pp stay on that stable gain”

BFM

BFM – Abbaye De Saint Bon-Chien

First, attempt to explain what a Biere de Garde is. Second, watch them recoil when you explain that $22.00 used to be an “expensive” beer. Finally, break down that this is a beer for aging and they will respond by noting that razzle slot values drop over time. It will be a complete waste of your time to engage someone with a “sour” beer that doesn’t fully recede the gumline and compel twitching along the orbital socket.

peche

Bassiere Du Di Ciel – Peche Mortel

The countenance of that jejune face will slide when the instaRone realizes that this coffee stout is not even barrel aged. NO KOPI LUWAK? NO GEISHA? He will protest as though he knows something about underlying coffee roasts. Watch this sad communications major drop to the knees of his Rag and Bone joggers when he sees this beer is only 9.5% abv, a session stout, a waste of Tumblr space.

conny

Photo credit Sour Beer Blog

Russian River Brewing Company – Consecration

At first when you mention “barrel aged sour” a new money floccboi will be all on board, pulling hard on that dual coil vape talking about these sick kettle sour berliners with unfermented fruit puree that his boy Trevin bought that blew up in his Scion TC. Then when you note that this hits shelves, the sadness will sink in. What’s even the point if other beta casuals have tasted it? You’ll likely be met with a rejoinder of “Honestly, I don’t fuck with Dark Sours ever since Pulling Nails 6 brah.” Any attempts at explaining the currant and pedio interplay will be drowned out by tattered Beats by Dre headphones pumping an Alesso playlist.

The upshot of the dystopian reality of dudes getting chondromalacia waiting for DDH trubcans is: things can steadily improve, breweries will continue to craft nuanced, amazing beers that none of this segment will ever drink. I for one welcome our new Razzle overlords.

@newenglandbrew Fuzzy Baby Ducks, Fugly Bubbling Dougs, Funky Buzzing Dunks, Fumbly Bonky Dorks

March 4, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Man this single IPA has been ruining my life for upwards of three years. I remember this popped hot on the scene with twin desert eagles drawn back in 2012 just popping .50 shells into the trade boards, fucking with trade values like JadaKiss and D block. So after 2 and a half years I finally landed a growler of this elusive draft only quacker. Let’s see if other breweries have caught up with this world class peep in the intervening years.

DDB the realest ticker in it you already know, got sipper of the year 4 years in a row.

New England Brewing Company
Single IPA, not doubles, no trips, 6.2% abv

A: This might have been revolutionary back when people were getting their BJ’s certified in 2012 and having a turbid IPA would DQ you like a blizzard. These days this is pretty legit and tame by modern standards since tired hands and Horny Trooplers make some of the slurriest yeasties this side of the game. It has substantial carb and it is quick to put two nines on your back like Wayne Gretzky.

tickers recognize and say DDB the truth and the IPA same color Donald Duck orange juice

S: This is an explosion of tropical scents, Donald Duck orange juice, tangerine rind, dry lingering citra aspects like a more ballerer Zombie Dust that doesn’t fade days after packaging. Really impressive and reminds me of a less Nelsony Pupil/Nelson. YAMEEN.

T: This follows the citrus profile in a substantial way, oily and sticky hops create a melange of grapefruit and pineapple that pulls the E brake and J turns into a resin alley. The finish has nothing akin to the opener, like that movie Inherent Vice. It closes with this aserose and pine, a resonant conifer on the swallow. WHERE DID THIS DOUGLAS FIR COME FROM.

Neo Englands y u do dis, ned moar cans pls, no more sea haggings

M: I get surprisingly little duck on the mouthfeel, I wonder if they just dry hopped with infant ducks or if it was supposed to be in the boil. I can imagine the production costs would go through the roof, defending this against PETA, tossing live freshly hatched chicks directly into 150 degree sparge water. The mouthfeel closes dry thanks to the residual tufts of feathers and poached bills and tiny duck feet. It is exceedingly dry and oily, as is to be expected with a carnivorous IPA.

D: All duck jokes aside, this shit is so so so crushable. I drank this entire growler when I wrote that 1200 word 18th street sophmore saison review and got all manner of faded. I told my NEBCO hookup that a 32 ounce would be sufficient and just like getting pegged: BOY WAS I FUCKING WRONG. You could crush this all day while whipping up baking soda on a Foreman Grill. Someone needs to explain to me why they still bother canning that horrendous Sea Hag when this exists? Take all the money from G-BOT, cancel it, divert all funds into making nothing but this beer. No satire here, I am serious this is top tier, area dominating IPA without competition in the segment, unless Vermont starts flexing hard in the yard. This trades for absurd shit, not unlike Citra, and it is well worth it. I give this 9 out of 10 duck eggs.

DDB is the ticker that queefs in the night

I HAVE GOSE OPINIONS: Clickbait Bullshit from a Presumptive Dumbass

February 11, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Hot on the heels of sifting through mountains of derivative garbage about the HARD WAY and PEACH PUMPKIN BEER, we have this week’s incendiary bullshit for the beer scene to address with baleful contemplation:

A verbose article groundlessly objecting to Gose, by an uninformed dipshit

Now we can already take it as a solid premise that Thrillist is THE go-to spot for hot beer news. It is undisputed that this isn’t some shitty newsletter turned clickbait factory that pushes the consumeristic drives of the late 20’s male demographic. This is a company that purchased JACKTHREADS to ensure beer nerds have nicely tailored vests, corduroy suits, and email services to refer/mine any user data to drive readers into purchasing more and more shit that they don’t want or need: We are talking a srs authority on all things beer.

So who did they get to tackle this hot-button issue of GOSE RUINING THE ENTIRE CRAFT BEER SCENE? Zarathustra himself, JOE FUCKING KEOHANE. Now if you know anything about the beer world, this guy is practically the Jean Van Roy of beer palates and the neo-Charlie Papazian of unbridled beer knowledge. Thrillist would accept nothing less for a matter of such grave ethos and uncompromising importance. GOSE IS RUINING AN ENTIRE MARKET SEGMENT AND A NEEDLESSLY LENGTHY SERIES OF SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS WILL PROVE IT.

You knew Thrillist was serious, they don’t just toss content onto their site hoping to sell you shitty barware or gawdy apparrel, I mean, just look at the gravitas of this incredible exposé: THE 13 NAUGHTIEST THINGS YOU CAN DO IN ATLANTA

So we know the site has unimpeachable credibility in its intentions, but what about the monolith of authority, Mr. Joe Keohane, the master of all Cicerones?

Well not only does he have an extensive background in beer and beer culture (don’t worry, he doesn’t) he also has penned these gems:

A bunch of shit for Esquire magazine, none of which is about beer.

But we already know that Esquire themselves are the UNDISPUTED MASTERS OF BEER KNOWLEDGE

But enough about KNOWLEDGE and CREDENTIALS and EXPERIENCE, let’s examine why this one ignorant dumbass has predicated the death of all craft beer on hasty generalizations and opaque vapid observations. Let’s do that.

Joe Keohane might as well have written the entire article about Thundercats toys

Joe Keohane might as well have written the netire article about Thundercats toys

Alright so you get three solid entry paragraphs of fondant with a zero calorie breakdown of the history of craft beer, and then finally Mr. Keohane, grand vicar of all ales gives a sketchy history of the gose style. The entire article reads less like some derivative opinion piece and more like your mailman trying to tell you about this segment he saw on Hardcopy, and then does a shitty job of it. The author notes that he did some extensive research though, dont worry, “[he] went to three craft beer stores today in search of more varieties to cement (or rebut) [his] opinion, and the first two were completely sold out. The third had two left.”

Is the budget of the $1 billon Thrillist really that paper thin? IS the author really that fucking lazy? Then the entire article is drawn from a trip to three whole stores and then generalizations leveled predicated upon sampling TWO fucking goses? That would be like if I wanted to write a piece for Jezebel on male hegemony and privilege in the workplace and then I went to Barnes and Noble and looked at the covers of some Betty Friedan and Kate Millett books and called it a day.

Goses are like this Cheetara toy in that I don’t know what the fuck I am talking about

At its core, the author lacks the one thing that you would expect from an article about, well, anything: authority. If this were a shitty livejounral entry entitled “TODAY I TRIED A SALTY THING I DIDNT LIKE” we could dual list it under homoeroticism and stupid uninformed rant that you could readily dismiss. Instead it is presented as a legitimate inquiry into an entire style of beer and the mechanics of destruction attendant to an entire economy and culture. Or wait, maybe it is a horrible broad generalization about shit that the author has not idea about. Maybe the title served to drive up referral links, responses, and watered down alexa traffic to pump this shitlord of a website trying to sell you tacky Ben Sherman messenger bags. NAH I AM SUER THAT JOE KEOHANE TRIED HIS BEST THAT’S WHAT MATTERS.

In case you couldn’t tell by his run on sentences, multiple independent clauses and irrelevant comparisons to other areas of culture: Joe Keohane doesn’t know shit about beer and his opinion is as irrelevant as a 9th grader’s stance on sub-prime mortgages.

THe thing you need to know about gose is, well, this is a Mumra toy. I trust you see the clear parallel.

So taking that with a grain of gose, you can read laughably faulty logic like “If Gose was that worthy of so much excitement and attention from America’s world-class brewers and drinkers, we simply would have gotten to it by now” with a wry smile like seeing a Nascar fan in the adult literacy school: he is just trying his best. Because that’s what craft beer is, a sweaty neckbeard with a clipboard just combing through old styles to revitalize, AND WE JUST DIDNT GET TO GOSE FAST ENOUGH. Shit why not “SAISONS HAVE BEEN AROUND FOR CENTURIES THEY HAVE HAD A CHANCE TO BECOME POPULAR BUT THEY ARENT AS POPULAR AS IPAS THEREFORE, HERE ARE 900 WORDS OF MISGUIDED BULLSHIT, MY OPINION PRESENTED AS LEGITIMATE RESEARCHED FACTS.”

Thrillist owner Ben Lerer discusses how to get people to buy shitty sneakers and how Joe Keohane desrves a raise

I don’t mind if someone is an ignorant dipshit, as long as they are entertaining. IF they are not entertaining, then at least be informative. If not informative, at least be well written. Joe Keohane is the furthest bottom right segment of the Punnett square of beer writing, comletely undesirable recessive traits: boring, unfunny, incorrect, shitty writing presented from a pulpit of stern earnestness. It really is as bad as the beer game gets.

I guess in being exceptionally shitty Joe Keohane can show us all how to draw tired irrelevant parallels to Prince and foodie culture, and in the sheer lack of merit, we are all edified by peering at how trifling beer journalism can be.

The Bruery Mango Hottenroth, A Lackluster Jaunt Down the Produce Aisle of Sighs

February 6, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Today we have a Hoarders only bottle that people were writing fanficiton about all year, just waiting for this banger to drop. All fucking year we witnessed other west coast breweries parade out reasonable ABV wild ales, fruited goses, fruited berliners, DOUBLE FRUITED sours. Each impatient dipshit in the Hoarders crew longingly shook a snowglobe and waited and waited for this beer to drop. FINALLY WORD CAME! HS ballers would get a single. bottle. with their membership. To prevent people flipping over Priuses in the streets of Placentia, another bottle was available for purchase. A single. bottle. The anticipation ran high and, with a crisp fulfilling base beer, WHAT COULD GO WRONG? Well strap yourself into that sex swing and prepare for that mango to get plenty bruised in today’s review.

Them tropical tones on blast, looking all Naked/Kerny

Them tropical tones on blast, looking all Naked/Kernsy

The Bruery, Placentia
3.2% abv, Berliner with Mango

A: This is a messy, turbid affair that wears the mango guts proudly like an ornate sash of pulp and frothy flotsam. It isn’t particularly beautiful, but regular old Hotty didnt have a pilates body either. The carb exits almost upon inception, a wry tip of the hat as if to say “we lived in the bottle for long enough as it is, good luck with this one, Mango Hotty is a hot mess.” There is no lacing, no cling, just you and this second runnings from the Jamba Juice blender. A Petite Smootheeiere`

S: The nose is undeniably mango, tropical life savers, Haribo peach rings, yes yes, that is all present. Apricot Jolly Rancher even? Sure. The problem is not within the mango funzone, it is within the dark undercurrent of odd happenings that clearly were not invited and are stretching the expanse of a +1 roster. You get a sort of lemon meringue, alright not standard but, wait is that egg? Hold on, sulphur? Detonated fireworks? WHO LET THESE INTO THIS HERETOFORE AMAZING BEVERAGE? The whole thing closes with a sort of “bottle shock” note that makes it seem like, despite waiting so long to release this bottle, the March 31 pickup date pushed this to be released too soon. And DDB, like a stupid asshole wants to have the first review up, so I opened mine far too soon. Let’s move on.

Drop molly with your pet otter, pop a bottle of this, anything goes. taste colors.

T: Things continue to get weird from here on in, theres some apricot fruit leather and a brackish spray like riding a clementine orca over a sea of Donald Duck Orange Juice EVERYTHING IS AMAZING- until you swallow. The clinging pulpy barbs leave an odd “Bubbilicious chewed way too long” sort of cling and a waxiness like those opaque candy bottles with juice inside of them. Something just seems, not quite right. It isn’t exactly sick or ropey or phenolic, none of that, but it feels kinda like I am sipping a molten mango Yankee Candle. The whole affair is circumspect and breaches the expectations of “Yeah I love Hottenroth, just put mango in that shit, alright, let’s get this done.”

M: This is crushable and drinks like an odd variant of Vitamin Water. It is crackly, crisp and dry, leaves a tannic presence along the gumline and leaves nothing to be desired in this realm. It never becomes too acidic or sweet and cloying. The weird eggy taste along the back palate is strange and I can’t come up with a reasonable explanation for it, if you like Mango Oikos Greek Yogurt, you will love this untameable Rancor.

The Bruery’s reaction when I saunter in after this review.

D: I can’t pretend to know what happened here. This seemed like a simple enough task but things just did not work out as expected. You take your Civic Si in for a new timing belt, suddenly it has a wet fogger system and isnt street legal and runs in a less than satisfactory fashion. Hottenroth is simple as shit and people love it. Adding mango to this should have been a plug and play affair but this thing has spoilers and sideskirts and all manner of shit that seems to have overly complicated the whole execution. This is by no means a bad beer, it isn’t a drainpour, and if you split it at a massive Indiana backyard share the untappd single digit reviews would rain like Phoenician arrows. It is a disappointment though, given the high hopes, delays, anticipation and fanciful imagination of beer nerds everywhere. Perhaps the promise of unbridled deliciousness were unfair from the inception, maybe Trevor put out way too many fucking tasty De Garde BU’s and people just assumed this would be the same way. I don’t know, it is Friday don’t you have better things to do than read this shit? It has to be 25 cent wing night SOMEWHERE.

SHAMELESS APOLOGIST SIGNING OFF.

I wear many hats around here.

BONUS VEDEO CONTENT: Malort blended In and Out Double Doubler Nuthuluus

February 2, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Some cicerones complained that ddb did not actually blend it, or did not taste it. SO this is the blu-ray criterion edition directors cut with behind the scenes coovie blending for posterity tones.

It was disgusting and tasted like malort, cigar butts, and oily lipid cheese notes. One of the worst blends to date.

Ten Reasons Why October Is the Absolute Shittiest Beer Month for People Who Love Beer

October 24, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Every year, when autumn sets in and those leaves turn from green to whatever color leaves change where you live, every dipshit on the block decides to be interested in beer for a single month. Without fail, this month is October, every single year. For the uninitiated, October is a whimsical time of exploration, pumpkin spice and grocery store beers they can’t wait to tell everyone about. For the rest of the beer world, October is like pushing a glass rod into your dickhole and smashing it with a pumpkin. Today DDB will attempt to explain just why October is the absolute worst for people who are into beer year-round.

1) Fucking Octoberfest. Always Octoberfest.
You will start seeing Marzens, graters, fucking Roggenbiers and all other kinds of obscure German afterbirth hitting the shelves as early as August. This can mean only one thing, every asshole you are mildly associated with will be asking you to drink lukewarm lagers out of a 1 liter mug at some dumbfuck venue. Most beer nerds spend the better part of their year avoiding these styles altogether, but to everyone else YOU ARE THEIR BEER FRIEND THIS IS YOUR CHRISTMAS, RIGHT? Sure, there is a place for a clean refreshing German bier every once and again, but enjoying one with a bunch of assholes from accounting who want to ask you a hundred questions about the Reinheitsgebot over an oversized pretzel is never enjoyable.

HEY YOU LIKE BEER SURELY YOULL ENJOY HANGING OUT WITH DRUNK ASSHOLES DRINKING BEER YOU HATE RIGHT?

2) Pumpkin Infused Everything.
For the average Whole Foods baller, the changing of the seasons activates an irritating need in their DNA to consume pumpkin everything: pies, lattes, KY lube- FOR THE LOVE OF GOURD. Without fail, the average beer nerd will get swept up in this bullshit. Your stepdad will buy you some awful pumpkin English Brown or someone will ask you incessant questions about the various pumpkin beers that they JUST HAD TO TRY WHILE THEY WHIP UP SOME MACAROONS. Beer nerds hate these beers and the spike of BeerAdvocate users and forum activity centered around pumpkin beers shows the critical mass of dipshits that flock to these on an annual basis. No thanks, Jeff.

3) Lifestyle Magazines Decide They Are Experts on Beer
During the month of October, every asshole with a subscription to Food and Wine decides that they need to dust off all their extraneous kitchen gear and whip up some awful shit to bring to holiday parties and family functions. October is the coronation of this shit-crowning and publications that previously were telling you which messenger bag is the snappiest now decide to report on BREAKING NEWS LIKE THE FOUR DIFFERENT TYPES OF SOUR ALES. It wouldn’t really matter if they just spread myopic dumbass information, but instead like FoodBabe herpes, people itch these and spread them to beer lovers and we have to suffer through these jizzgargling articles and grin and be like “oh, thanks Aunt Grace, I will look into these, yeah.” The worst is when do zero fucking research and then put together pairing guides with extremely rare beers that your friends will ask you about and then you look like a massive prick explaining how to obtain that beer, “oh the article told you to pair your pecan pastry with Kaggen Stormskatporter? Oh ok, well here let me explain why you will never fucking do that-”

FOR

FUCKS

SAKE

BEER FESTZ FUK YAAAA who carez wut we drinkn ITS FUKN BEEER!!!1!!LOLOL

4) Colder Weather Makes Beta Casuals Adventurous in their Beer Selections
Usually a basement dwelling beer nerd can live in gentle repose, conforted by the sweet succor of barrel aged old ales or nuanced saisons. The above-ground population drinks adjunct lagers and witbiers and the world operates in seamless harmony. In October temperatures drop and all those Coachella assholes decide to be adventurous in the CVS and buy something that doesn’t look like a cup of clean piss you give to your parolee buddy. This would be great if these people treated this decision like any other consumer purchase instead of making it your problem the next day. Be prepared to hear all about this brand new STYLE OF BEER CALLED A PORTERS BECAUSE IT WAS MADE IN A PORT, IN PORTUGAL. Oh no problem, a 5 minute review of Young’s Banana Bread Beer? Tell me all about your palate adventures. Invariably, these assholes will need to drop weight around Valentines Day for that big one night stand they have been planning, and they forget all about beer. It’s the stretch-marked beer nerds who have to suffer through these stories day in and day out. If I just discovered football and decided to recount all of the FIRST DOWNS that I witnessed over the weekend, people would be like “this guy is a huge prick, keep it to yourself.” That’s how it feels to be asked a relentless series of questions about Blue Moon and why is LA FIN DU MONDE just so much better like seriously, its so good, have you had it? Oh you have well let me tell you WHAT I THINK ABOUT IT, please dont interrupt me-

Bro, we like beer but dont get all weird about it, hey have you tried WIDMER OR THIS HEMP ALE SO FUKN RAD

5) Outdoor Beer Festivals
I can already see the backlash to this one, “WAIT DDB WHAT’S WRONG WITH ENJOYING FALL OUTSIDE AND TRYING SOME NEW BEERS! I AM NOT EVEN CIRCUMSIZED!” To which I will remind the average beer consumer that these festivals are a fucking nightmare for your “BEER FRIEND.” You remember how all year that portly guy in the last cubicle has been going to bottleshares, events, releases, and standing in industrial parking lots on weekends for beer? That’s how much he hates beer festivals. You never wanted to go to those events, and a beer nerd wants to go to a Beerfest expoentially less. If you have a friend who is really into beer, the prospect of paying $60 to drink Asahi and Magic Hat outdoors with a bunch of redfaced undergrads is the worst idea ever. Couple that with UNLIMITED POURS of Honker ale, long lines to get a 5oz pour of beer they don’t want in the first place, and casual dipshits who usually dont get drunk and you have an unchecked Cougarfest on your hands. Toss in an 80’s band for maximum rage. As if the foregoing wasn’t enough, the average beer nerd gets nothing but expectant looks from the normal friends like “WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK OF SHIPYARD SMASHED BLUEBERRY HAVE YOU EVER HAD IT BEFORE? IT IS MINDBLOWING RIGHT? Oh…well we liked it…here let me explain to you why it is good in this 25 minute portapotty line-”

Reasons 6 through 10 are the people curmudgeonly described in a variety of ways. You get the jist.

I could go on and on but the assholes who need to read this have SearchSafe activated and won’t understand this anyway. Time to bunker down through the nutmeg and allspice disaster until after New Year’s Eve.

@voodoobrewery Tenacious Wee aged in Eagle Rare Barrels, This is not the greatest beer in the world; this is just a tribute

October 24, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

FILL THE CREVASSE.

COULDN’T REMEMBER THE RECIPE TO THE GREATEST BEER IN THE WORLD: this is just a tribute.

But in all honesty this beer is pretty tasty, you don’t always have to fuck people’s palates hard sometimes you have to make some love and give tickers some smooches too. Whenever someone offers me a regular scotch ale I am usually like “hey if I wanted the taste of pennies, stale alcohol and blood, I will just go work at the recycling center.” Somehow, through the magic of oak and time, barrel aging scotch ales makes them actually drinkable. However, unlike barleywines or old ales, they don’t have that heft to their bodies so they run the risk of being over-oaked if you try to push the wood too deep, hitting that back wall.

This beer is a shining example of a BA scotch ale that damn near shoulders with the finest BA Barleywines in complexity and sheer deliciousness. The treatment imparted a fantastic coconut and macaroon aspect and, more importantly, served to tame the metallic and bittering notes attendant to the standard pedestrian scotch ale base. Sure, you can disagree and sip on wee heavies to your heart’s delight, but you probably have your name written on the inside of your underwear and I wouldn’t want to drink with your basic ass 1996 palate anyway.

This has a deep crimson and mahogany aspect to it with a fantastic carb that subsides without lacing or much pageantry. The nose is fantastic through and through, sweet carmelized raisins, brown sugar, a touch of oaky bitter notes, and finishes like Sugar Daddies and a mineral closer. The taste is clean and highly attenuated, not leaving a flabby inefficient grain bill or residual sugar to needlessly sweeten up this tight presentation. It is distinctively a scotch ale in this regard, whereas some people might complain that Ale Smith BA Wee Heavy toes too closely to the barleywine realm. Fuck those complainers, we are talking god tier BA Scotch ales here, give those jabronis some knuckle sandwiches. The taste is a bit more bitter and malt forward than the sweet nose would belie and it kinda reminds me a of a baby version of Kuhnhenn BBBW, if you ratchet evertying back a step, and then actually carbonated it- HEYOOOOO.

The mouthfeel begs for another sip and the fusel heat is imperceptible and integrated seamlessly like those SICK TRUE RELIGION JEANS WITH THE WHITE STITCHING OH FUCK. I killed this bottle unreasonably fast while sucking shit at Rocksmith, but who wants to play POLICE covers anyway? It is highly drinkable, complex, and should be enjoyed above 60 degrees to get all them Sherwin Williams color swaps on your palate.

I would tell you to go seek it out, but I am sure this was like 300 bottles or some shit, so who cares. If nothing else it is a testament to a barrel program that, if we overlook Gran Met and Buffalo Trace BBVD, is almost beyond reproach at this point.

In other Leatherhead related news, the 1989 action figure arrived WITHOUT THE FUCKING SHOTGUN THO
Brb gonna shotgun some Voodoo instead.

Top 10 Reasons Why Basic Bitch Palates Love Adjunct Stouts

September 29, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Between PIRATE BOMB, and BA MEXICAN CAKE SETS and BA ABRAXAS and BIGGELESWADE DERK LERD AND STONE’S NEW CINNAMON TOAST AFTERBIRTH PLACENTA EXTRAVAGANZA: we have been perineum deep in adjunct stouts. There is something about the allure of all them ingredients on the label that drive basic tickers absolutely banana sandwich. Today I try to sum up why n00bs and sundollar nippled basement dwellers LOVE THEM ADJUNTIFIED STOUTS:

1. THE ABV
Most people attempting to stretch their anuses in the beer game go micro -> hop head -> stouts -> big barrel aged beers -> and end up as the permavirgin lambic coveter you take pity on wearing a tribly scribbling in a Moleskin, shit people should never read. Those journals look like Kevin Spacey’s from Se7en. But in the middle of this degenerative reverse evolution, pussy tickers get it into their heads that a high abv is something difficult to pull off, and they are forged from the cauldron of Hephaestus just because they can slam a 13% abv beer. If you go to any basic bitch bottle share there will always be one dude talking about taking down HUUUUGE BEERS, his swampy armpits redolent with pasta water. Adjunct stouts serve up some high abv and that is anomalously a point of pride for people who don’t know shit. They eat it up.

2. THE COLOR, BRO
If you add chocolate or black patent malt to 168 degree water, you are a fucking genius and god among men. I know most people see you as a sugar water stirring fuckup who was dishonorably discharged from the Coast Guard, but you learned HOW TO MAKE WATER DARK AS FUCK. Basic tickers love this shit. They use tired ass adjectives and sheet it on the glass to get those furrowed foreskins pull taut. To their even more basic friends, its a sign of bragadocio when they get to pop wheelies with adjunct laden dark liquids. SOMEDAY YOULL GET ON THIS LEVEL MAN “OH WOW I DONT EVEN SEE HOW YOU CAN DRINK THAT, ALSO YOUR TEETH LOOK LIKE BAKED BEANS, WOW.”

3. Flavors Any Dipshit Could Identify
If you haven’t tried that many beers, life can be a dizzying mystery of tastes and smells. NO ONE CALL TELL ME WHAT I SUBJECTIVELY TASTE IS WRONG. Is usually what someone who is completely fucking wrong will say. The basic bitch ticker loves adjunct stouts because the label says it right there. It’s like life insurance for their shitty impressions, no one can tell them that vanilla is not in there BECAUSE IT SAYS VANILLA RIGHT THERE ON THE LABEL MOM, GOD TELL ME BEFORE YOU COME DOWN HERE TO DO LAUNDRY. FUCK. Also, adding a fuck ton of an identifiable flavor makes it so they don’t need to learn about things like yeast strains, fermenting temps, or any nuances monoculture aspects. THEY JUST GET TO POINT OUT THE FUKN CINNAMEN BRUH!!!!

MFW i see someone offering up adjunct stout for an almost identical beer

4. Loose Familiarity with the Base Beer
Usually a barrel aged adjunct stout has some sibling that the local dipshit picked up at the local Binny’s. It makes them feel safe and secure knowing that not only will they have tepid observations BUT THEY GET TO MAKE OBVIOUS CONTRASTS AS WELL. While the regular stout was chocolate, the one filled with a shitload of Ancho Peppers TASTES LIKE ANCHO PEPPERS HOLY FUCK 100/100 BJCP SCORE. It is also this grounding in the pedestrian that makes these tickers want the EVEN RARERER VERSION SO MUCH MOARRRR. Sometimes the adjunct versions are even shittier, but that doesn’t matter. Just imagine the look on that Birmingham Homebrew Club’s faces when you roll up with the LIMITED VERSION of some shit they got at the grocery store. King among sleep apnea afflicted men, indeed.

5. U GET TO BE THE BIG MAN AT A BOTTLE SHAER
Most beers that you can drink by yourself don’t lend themselves exclusively to sharing it amongst your 13 closest degenerates. If someone asked me to split a Fantome Ete 13 ways I would LOL and show them where the Hennepin is located. However, if you have a 15% adjunct stout, it begs to be shared like a Burning Angel model. The guy whose personal life is in shambles get to feel special and relevant for a fleeting moment for pouring 1oz into a semi-stranger’s glass. Transitions lenses be fogging up hard when that cocoa version comes out, oh shit AND THE PEANUT BUTTER ONE TOO GUYS LETS ALWAYS INVITE THIS SOCIAL MAVEN.

6. Low Bottle Counts
Plenty of styles have low bottle counts, but who the fuck is trying to drink a SAISON AMIRITE? That’s barely a step above a hef. But when it comes to produce laden stouts, those bottle counts are gospel, regardless of what is inside of them. Often times, someone will tell you the bottle count before they even tell you what the fuck the beer is, as though that’s some MSRP necessary information. Again, we can chalk this up to two parts feelings of inadequacy and one part wanting to have the most tumescent beer pud while standing in line for, you guessed it, more fucking beer.

If you don’t know how to respect adjunct stouts, maybe you need to take a break from the trade boards until you get your shit together

7. GOTTA COMPLETE THAT FUKN SETTTT
The compulsive behavior exhibited by the mid-tier beer nerd lends itself nicely to collecting: most nerds went from pogs, to pokemon, to magic the gathering, to fake numbers from women who were repulsed by them, to setlists from bands no one gives a shit about, until finally that completionist glow of having three slightly different versions of the same beer. Beyond just letting them rot in an Ohio basement, which is sick as fuck in itself, you also get to show them off when one of your 4 friends from the bowling league comes over. Tucked in glass cases like aborginal artifacts, too esoteric for the common guzzler to wrap his mind around. NO YOU FUKN IDIOT THAT ISN’T BOURBON BARREL …that’s the RYE BARREL. I await the day that the holofoil vvariant labels are released and shit gets really real in the field.

8. Become a Master of Comparing Shit No One Cares About
If you have 5 minutes to burn while sitting in your cell on death row, ask a beer nerd which variant he liked best from the 4 versions of the recent adjunct stout. I hope you brought a blankie and some snacks, that monologue will feel endlessly long, like chain smoking Salvia end on end. If you have ever heard one of these philippics you will know that cascading waves of “bourbon had more…but brandy was a touch sweeeter…we all agreed that tequila was too…oddly I loved the malort barrel…” just whipping through the air like a gawdy baton of wasted calories. It would be like if there was a Koren War for decadent dipshits and these people enlisted HARD on those one way missions. Then they return with some stories to tell, real gourmand shit that will chill your soul, you aint heard cardinal or ordinal lists like these before motherfucker, that goateed warrior HAS TASTED SOME THINGS YOU CANT EVEN IMAGINE.

9. FOMO Immunity
If a brewery releases a limited beer that most people miss out on, you can expect that shit to be alluded to a million times over as the benchmark of human progress and palate calibration. If you never tried Southampton Black Raspberry Lambic, then you don’t know SHIT and can’t comment on anything until you do. Take that paradigm and make it tenfold worse because stout aficionados are the absolute fucking worst in this regard. If you miss out on one of the 84 BOTTLES of Apple Brandy Huna, then, why should I even fucking listen to this person, it’s like he lives in a stinky cave and subsists off of hearts of palm. Ok you had CALI BRANDY but whoa whoa, easy buddy, the adults are talking about APPLE BRANDY, why don’t you return to your duplo blocks or whatever it is you put in your mouth. Ticking rare stouts gives you an immunization from anyone being able to ever reference something YOU MAY NOT HAVE TRIED. The shield also works as a weapon in case someone is pulling rank, you just cut their asses down to size by referencing OH YOU HAVENT HAD JUST RUM BARREL HUNA? ONLY THE DOUBLE BARREL ONE EVERY TRIED? OH WELL I CANT EXPECT YOU TO UNDERSTAND. Then disappear in a cloud of black malty smoke like Altair.

with great gourmand power comes decadent responsibility

10. Insightful 1oz Blending by Drunk Assholes
If merely trying the beer wasn’t sufficient, be sure to instagram a bunch of pics of you and your 14 closest homies pouring nominal amounts from the bottom of the bottles to make THE ULTIMATE BLEND. Because then if people tried them individually, you can always piggy back on the ULTIMATE blend of adjunct stouts, to one up anyone. Basic bitch tickers love this because it makes them feel novel, like if Armand or Uli got into a severe car accident and acted like a complete asshole for the rest of his life. And the thought of being a part of that creative process is like Marcel Proust dipping his madeline into tea, a wave of bitch ticker memories wash over these pedestrian ass traders like a Remembrance of Things Past.

So there you have it. If you didn’t understand it before, now you see why the world of meaningless adjunct liquids is so meaningful to people who have little and predicate their self values upon 1%er limited consumables.

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT THE STOUT GAME WAS SUPREME

DARK HORSE NATION: FINALLY the mash-tun cleaning antics TV viewers have been demanding all these years

July 23, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

In case you haven’t heard yet, them old bearded boys of Marshall, Michigan went and done acquired themselves a television show, on the history channel no less. That’s right, for both of you at home who couldn’t get enough of BREWDAWGZ and BREWMASTERS, comes DARK HORSE NATION, a thrilling new TV series chronicling the lives of Michigan brewers attempting to address the stark solipisms of the human condition by running water through crunched up grains. TRULY COMPELLING.

In the fourth episode, VALENTINES HORSE, one of the bearded boys needs to woo a female companion out of her Lane Bryant jumper

You may be asking, “what in the fuck does this have to do with history?” Well technically any event recorded in a static medium is HISTORY, so even minutia connected to making SOUR THREE GUYS OFF THE SCALE, is technically historically relevant because it happened in the not-future. Listen, I am no Don Draper, so I will let History Channel give you their spin on this pile of spent grain:

“”In small town Marshall, Michigan, there is a group of life-long friends living out their visions of the American dream. Led by rebel entrepreneur and fearless visionary, Aaron Morse, Dark Horse is a thriving business set amongst a rural paradise. Morse and his team have been making a name for themselves since 1997, when Dark Horse started bottling their unique line of craft beers. Now distributed in 12 states, the Dark Horse crew is determined to turn their business into a household name. It’s diehard fan base even has its own nickname: Dark Horse Nation.”

“However, DARK HORSE NATION is not only about crafting great beer, it’s a way of life. Their recipe for success is as much about experimentation and trouble-shooting as it is self-taught skill and determination. Every week, there’s some new project, from creating outlandish inventions to building additions to their ever-growing compound. Around here, everything is done by hand, the old-fashioned way, or as they like to put, ‘The Dark Horse Way.'”

So TL;DR the first paragraph is essentially an advertisement for Dark Horse. That’s fine, I guess. The second paragraph delves into existential territory and shows you the raw pathos of the show, THE DARK HORSE WAY OF LIFE. This tao of pouring sacks of two row melded with the Vedas of pitching buckets of yeast underpins the SOUL OF THEIR EVER GROWING COMPOUND. At a certain point, when your size 40 husky jeans chafe from the Michigan sun, you reach that third stage of Kierkegaardian development: THE DARKHORSE WAY.

This is how I feel when I get requests from people to talk about fucking BREWDOGZ or whatever show DFH Sam is pandering at the moment.

But seriously, what in the fuck is this show actually about? Surely they can’t fill up seven episodes with dipshits wearing North Face jackets arguing about the Lions, OR CAN THEY. Here is my episode breakdown of predictable and tired pseudo-reality plot points:

Episode 1 “MEET THEM HORSES” in this episode we meet four dudes with beards and watch them race against interspliced shots of a clock for some reason, and then we get a B plotline where two husky keg washers have a dispute about who sprayed muds on whose S10.

Episode 2 “TRAVELING HORSES” in this episode two bearded dudes pile into a Tacoma and look for like vanilla, or razzleberry or some shit for an upcoming beer. It really isn’t that important but expect minor chords played over a dude looking winsomely at a barrel like “MAN IF THEY DONT GET THEM BURRIES IN TIME WE ARE FIXIN FOR A REAL SITCH!” Also, we meet a female support character who is probably latently degrading.

Episode 3 “EXPANDING THAT HORSE” in this pivotal TWO PART episode we explore the finer points of basic construction, putting brite tanks in place, and some bullshit ticking clock about how CROOKED TREE NEEDS TO START BREWIN OTHERWISE THE MICHIGAN CHOPPER SOCIETY WONT HAVE ANY KEGS. Also Danzig might show up for some reason.

When they cut to commercial, expect some PAWN STARS bullshit facts like “Dark Horse Brewing is located at 511 S. Kalamazoo Ave., just south of downtown Marshall. The location was formerly Wacky Willy’s party store, owned and named after Bill Morse.” The types of facts you can bring up in case you need to avoid ever feeling a vagina.

the episode “Bring your illegitimate child to the brewery” was nominated for several emmays

Let’s be honest, I am just butthurt that CONDOLAMBIC: the Future Rustic Adventure, was not greenlighted. Just a dude trying to decide what type of DME to use, going to Ralph’s for frozen burritos and then siphoning HOA poolwater before the manager finds out. At one point, the crew has to sit and wait while a Daredorm episode is assiduously selected. Moving television.

TOP TEN CANTILLON HEIST SUSPECTS REVEALED

May 9, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, if your Google feed is clogged with nothing but lambic, belgian, kriek, framboise, and goozie posts then you already know the dramatics that are currently unfurling at Brassiere Cantillon AS WE SPEAK:

SOMEONE STOLE SOME BOTTLES FROM INSIDE THE CANTILLON BREWERY

We aren’t talking the normal kerks or bio goozies you can get in the forgeiners section at Binnys: we are talking legit whales being stolen and transplanted Free Willy style. Instead of a killer whale jumping over a maladjusted boy, we have some anonymous Belgian culprits who may have pulled the greatest lambic heist since the 1991 Timmerman’s 11 robbery. The major difference being that people actually want to drink these bottles.

Notwithstanding, there are many unconfirmed rumors and fingerpointing/banging at this juncture. To help simplify matters, the forensic crime squad at DDB (DDB:SVUCSLLU) has assembled a list of the top ten most likely parties involved in this racketeering scheme:

NUMBER TEN: Bill Herlicka, Founder of White Birch

Criminal Mastermind at work

It is well-established that White Birch makes the SECOND best sour ales in the entire world. Not content with living in Jean Van Roy’s shadow, Mr. Herlicka is a completely viable candidate to swipe these bottles for the precious dregs at the bottom. Brewing is a dirty game and you gotta break a few eggs to make a lambic omelette, this guy perhaps is propagating Loerik dregs AS YOU ARE READING THIS RIGHT NOW.

NUMBER NINE: Locke, from Final Fantasy III(VI)

Pictured above: Locke stripping a brewer stark naked in the streets of Brussels, zero fuxx given

This shady character is known for ripping off items. Whether it is jacking elixirs from barrels in Figaro, or getting all up on Kefka’s coin purse, I would not put it past him to come up on some Pikkachu’s or them late 90’s bangers. Detectives are looking for sprint shoe footprints at the time this article was posted.

NUMBER EIGHT: Trady, Negligent Moderator of Talkbeer.com

Previous failed plans pictured above

Long rumored to be “the worst” and patently negligent in executing his duties, several sources have provided tips that allude to Trady’s involvement in this scheme. First and foremost, he has not proven himself not guilty, which under Belgian law is worse than being actually guilty. Second, this man’s alleged benevolence in running BIFs exists as a smokescreen for his more nefarious intentions. If you see Trady attempting to swap bottles of anything outside of Carton Boat Beer, then you will know something is amiss from this New Jersey miscreant.

NUMBER SEVEN: Bitzy, bad trader from 2010 that everyone likely forgot about.

The mind of a larcenous genius ticks behind that calm facade.

Most of my readers aren’t even old enough to remember Bitzy, but essentially on BA about 4 years ago this criminal savant duped someone into sending him beer WHILE HE WAS IN COLLEGE. The scheme was as well-oiled as a Rube Goldberg machine and Bitzy later noted that his parents were no longer paying for his habits, AND HE VANISHED WITHOUT A TRACE ON THE LAMB. He remains at large and cannot be ruled out as a suspect in this highly-nuanced plot.

NUMBER SIX: JEAN CLAUDE VAN DAMME SPECIFICALLY IN TIME COP

Surveillance footage of Van Damme inside of Brassiere Fantome in Soy.

The story at this juncture is that the bottles were taken by “some Belgian dudes” however, no one has yet ruled out the possibility that it is the SAME BELGIAN DUDE FROM TWO TIMELINES. JCVD is just the type of crafty individual to pull off this scheme, and furthermore, the pacifist beer nerd persona wont speak up when he sees someone cutting in line, let alone when an ex-kickboxer is walking out with crates of DQ. When asked for comment, Jean Claude kicked the DDB correspondent through a pile of Fantome crates.

NUMBER FIVE: AIR DOG from NBA Jam

source: http://www.giantbomb.com/nba-jam/3030-16928/characters/

Last photo on file of this 16-bit asshole

This criminal’s whereabouts have been unknown since the PS1 era in 1996, but simple mathematics demonstrates that he is now able to drink and has a penchant for expensive ass lambic. Air Dog is a child who is a secret character in the console versions of the original NBA Jam, Tournament Edition, as well as NBA Jam Extreme, but to the FBI he is a criminal mastermind capable of 360 dunking an entire case of Vigneronne through a tiny brewery window. You ever wonder why there were only 230 bottles of Beatification batch 4 released? FUCKING AIR DOG STRIKES AGAIN.

NUMBER FOUR: DICK PARSONS, CEO of the Los Angeles Clippers

source: http://ll-media.tmz.com/2014/05/09/0509-richard-parsons-getty-4.jpg

Pictured above: NBA CEO not about to say something racist

The former head of both Time Warner and Citigroup has assumed the reigns of interim CEO of the Los Angeles Clippers and he has plenty to celebrate about. If you think he is going to use a cliche magnum of Dom P to celebrate this new acquisition, you are sorely mistaken. This financial wizard is capable of almost anything and I would not be shocked to see a jereboam Don Quixote showering over Honduran Clippers fans in the forthcoming parade that is inevitable.

NUMBER THREE: Justin Fucking Bieber

source: http://ll-media.tmz.com/2014/05/09/0509-justin-bieber-madison-new-instagram-4.jpg

Justin Bieber pictured above with Madison BEER. No coincidences here, folks.

This pubeless phenom has dropped more Limited Too thongs than a pediatrcian, but that simply is not enough. The Biebs will be of legal drinking age soon, and if you think he is settling for Cigar City Deja Vu, you are dead fucking wrong. JB slipped his waify frame through the gate at Cantillon, shimmied his svelte glistening tiny pecs across the koelschip and waited in the mash tun for his time to strike. His obliques were dripping with sticky sweet wort, cascading along the v-li-

next suspect

NUMBER TWO: RICH HOME QUAN

source: http://ionetheurbandaily.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/rich-homie-quan.jpg

Pictured above: Mr. Homie Quan in front of what can only be assumed to be Drie Fonteinen’s satellite brewing location in Atlanta.

If you follow Worldstarhiphop, which I am sure every one of my beta, malty mouthed readers does, then you know Rich Homie Quan HAD A FUCKING SEIZURE RECENTLY. Now of course, his publicist is gonna make his cite exhaustion and the Atlanta humidity — and not drugs — for his recent collapse in Atlanta, but if you have ever took a deep ass pull of Spuyten, you know that whalesauce will hit you hard. Even if you are accustomed to Promethazene mixed with Sierra Mist, rare lambic will put you on your ass. Local ratchets/employees of Magic City noted that they saw “bottles of a Cowboy looking Purple Drank falling all out of his bus.” For anyone who has had too much Blabaer and woken up beside a confused young Samoan, you know this tale all too well.

AND FINALLY THE NUMBER ONE SUSPECT WHO STOLE ALL THOSE BOTTLES OF CANTILLON:

Failed MTV VJ Jesse Camp

source: http://www.guessthe90sanswers.net/images/nineties/jesse-camp.jpg

The face of pure evil and distilled genius

If you are going to scoop up thousands of dollars in lambic and get off scot-free, you better be a Thanatos-level criminal mastermind. The first-ever winner of the “Wanna Be a VJ” contest, Jesse rocketed to a successful, two-year run as class clown on the network, including his own show, Lunch With Jesse. But during this run in the late 90’s he got a taste for that sweet honey pot, that sticky icky goozie bug. He tricked the entire world into thinking he was a dipshit and a complete idiot, just to fuel his love for spontaneously fermented beers. Belgian military have been instructed to shoot on sight anyone who looks like Jesse or is suspected of shopping at American Apparrel, all Urban Outfitters patrons will be water-boarded for posterity.

This is a case in progress and all leads will be examined, more details as they develop, don’t even bother checking other beer sites, DDB has this one on lock.

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

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