5

Top 10 Beers That New Money Palates Will Not Drink

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 New palates have neither the time nor attention span for these outdated beers from the past.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.

gd.jpg

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.

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1

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

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.

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

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

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

DDB is the ticker that queefs in the night

7

I HAVE GOSE OPINIONS: Clickbait Bullshit from a Presumptive Dumbass

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

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.

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.”

credit: wired.com

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.

0

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

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.

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.

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.

I wear many hats around here.

1

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

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?

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

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

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.

0

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

FILL THE CREVASSE.

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.

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