Category Archives: barleywine

7

Oh Great, Another Fucking Ancient Recipe Beer.

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Hey guize, guess what, they found another ancient example of a beer, and sure enough, they are going to recreate this shit found at the bottom of some Finnish ocean.

More stupid fucking rebrews of ancient ales

It seems like every 3 or 4 months the beer world gets another stupid ass release from an established brewery predicated on an ANCIENT RECIPE. These stories always get picked up by dumbass mainstream news outlets like Huffington post and the rest of the hardcore beer nerds have to suffer through questions about these shitty beers. I am all for innovation, but innovation and recreation for sheer marketing’s sake are usually done at the expense of taste. Have you ever read some of the recipes for these beers? It is always like “cardamom, jasmine, muddled figs, muscat grapes, saffron, annatto and pottery fragments.”

The worst part of these bottled gimmicks isn’t that they taste like complete afterbirth, it is the pull that it enacts on the “normal” beer drinking world. They will stumble into a Whole Foods and “TRY SOEMTHING NEW FOR A CHANEG!” and invariably hate it. Then the beer nerds are left to reap the spoils of their shitty releases. I can’t tell you how many times I have been at NAMBLA fundraisers and someone will always chime in with “OH I HAD THAT REMAKE OF THE EGYPTIAN BEER, IT TASTED LIKE I TONGUE FUCKED A WASP’S NEST” and suddenly I have to defend Dogfish Head Midas Touch for its innovation or whatever else.

God.

God.

Fucking.

Fucking.

Damnit.

Damnit.

You know why people brewed these bizarre beers in the first place? It wasn’t because they tasted so fucking amazing, they brewed them because:

1) Their water was fucking poisonous
2) Their local ingredients were the only fermentable sugars available
3) Their lives under slavery/serfdom/fealty/feudalism were completely shitty and
4) Drinking anything to get drunk in those days was probably pretty legit.

Just because something DID EXIST doesn’t mean it needs to continue to exist. Furthermore, most of these recipes are bastardized versions of the ancient beers anyway. If you want to go hard fucking core, brew that in Phoenician pottery casks in Damascus and leave that shit in the sun to contact ferment. None of this pussy Whitelabs or House cultures, go balls deep in the ancient world.

They don’t do this with any other artisanal products, no one except people at Lilith Fair are weaving clothing with rough hemp, no one is trying to nail that delicious Hard Tack recipe from the French Enlightenment. This garbage is unnecessary.

You want people to know how it felt to get feided during the Third Crusade under Richard I straight plundering Acre? Then brew the beer exactly as shitty as it was back then. Don’t drop these esoteric ingredients into weak base beers and expect people to have their shafts pumping at your innovation. You are the fucking Pontiac Aztek of the beer world. No one asked for you, and it is the stretchmarked mantitted beer nerds that suffer the effects.

4

You ordered Pliny the Younger, you are a beer expert.

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I am here at Mohawk Bend thought I would swing by for some Pliny the Younger. The event page said nothing about tickets just that it would be tapped at 6. Turns out all tickets were presold out by 4pm. Pretty fucking tight. They said they have some “left over” at 8pm but nobody got time for that.

I hate going to any beer bar this time of year, it is nothing but level one acorn penis Cicerones with their tired ass friends impressing with comments about maltiness and residual sugars. Suck your own labias. There are plenty of triple iPas out there, each maltose and more fusel than the last. Just because you stunted the fuck out of the crew of BJs doesn’t mean we need some interjecting advice from a dude in a Tommy Bahamas shirt and a Nextel phone. Fuck off.

This dude was like “if you like hops you gotta get row2 man it will show you what simcoe hops are” I was like “oh ok” and ordered a Humulus Lager. he shakes his head and goes “have EVER HAD SIMCOE HOPS!” and he exclaims “fuck man! You come for Pliny and order a lager! You gotta start learning about ales bro! There is a lot other beers out there man”

So tight.

4

Peg’s Cantina RareR D.O.S., The Extra R Stands for “Rape”

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Before my sweaty virgin contingency of readers get all upset, I know rape jokes are not funny, I know the R stands for “rum”, but go ahead and try to land this in the trade forums: forced intercourse. 300ish growlers (500ml small penis swingtops) and 3 per person. At least it was better than the previous run of 25 whopping growlers, but hey, it is a top 100 beer so tickers gotta tick, flipping bricks, crushing up raw. If you are some uninitiated dry vagina who stumbled into this site and somehow read the Rare DOS review then get on your pimping and come back when you are good and ready.

Ironically, the regular rad Rare Dos was more RarerereR

Ironically, the regular rad Rare Dos was more RarerereR

A: I guess leaving the home state of Florida was a lackluster affair for this lil growler because it shows up with little fanfare and lazily spills an Exxon black out of the bottle, a nice Huna sheen to it, with a lil bit of cafe au lait pencil lead thin foam on top. It isn’t dirty, but it isn’t exactly clean either, kinda like the Vegas Strip at 4am.

Slaying top 100 walez, not learning foreign languages, not meeting interesting people. Living that beer dream.

Slaying top 100 walez, not learning foreign languages, not meeting interesting people. Living that beer dream.

S: This doesnt present that odd Rum aspect that other treatments had me accustomed to. This almost comes across as an entirely bourbon affair, you get mallow foam, coconut, a light caramel aspect on that Calvados tip, and a bit of that Sugar in the Raw that you never fucking use at coffee shops. There is a light chocolate and cocoa but those are cast as Inmate #3, supporting in the background, adding authenticity.

T: This has that same phenomenal balance of booze, chocolate, hershey’s syrup, slight roast but more sweetness from the rum notes. Again, if you are accustomed to the Rum Huna land, you will be confused as fuck when you enter this realm because it seriously is more like an amped up Czar Jack than some rummy endeavor. In classic top 100 form, I can’t really think of a direct analog to this because it really stands on its own with the residual sugars and novel pirate swagger (Carribean not Ethiopean.)

Pop that tiny growler, put on John Carpenter's The Thing, and cool the fuck out.

Pop that tiny growler, put on John Carpenter’s The Thing, and cool the fuck out.

M: This is stickier than something like say, Parabola, but doesn’t toe that Huna/Abyss line where you have to move that sticky black palm from your inner thigh, ruining the second half of Pearl Harbor for you. There is sheeting but then the residual sugars are kept in line by the Hueguenot force of clear alcohol, which honestly makes me wonder if this was more in the 13% realm. I ain’t to kinda WINE ASSHOLE, so who am I to say. Cabernets and shit.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, if you happen to be some kinda of shipping magnate who can scoop up limited growler releases on the reg, lighting your cigars with Action Comics #1. If that is you, sure go ahead and drink away. For the rest of us, coal faced masses, pushing our gaunt faces to the window of Peg’s Cantina, hungering for that panegyric that will lighten our ticking hearts, we probably wont have this that often. Usually at this point, some bitter needledick chimes in about how good beer isn’t rare and how they are super stoked on their offshelf offerings, that’s fine, go drink your Storm King or whateverthefuck, let the real men discuss beer.

The average beer nerd will probably never try this in real life, but hey, beer nerds can always dream.

The average beer nerd will probably never try this in real life, but hey, beer nerds can always dream.

Narrative: They told me I could never do it, what with my having type II diabetes and bustling waistline, they just readily assume that I wouldn’t be a decent chimney sweep? That’s where they underestimated old Michael Jarvis, they didn’t know that I was born with superperceptive inner ear membranes that provide me with expcetional poise and balance. I can caress the roofline and tiles with fleeting agility as I pieroette and gracefully balance upon the brickwork of chimneys. Let’s see those dullards at the public house do that. I would love to see the fittest of their men compete against my 280 lbs frame as I amble the boards with Geckoesque grip and control. It is not about being the strongest, or the most memorable chiney sweep, it is about getting the job done. Post-victorian England isn’t going to unsoot itself and my poise and grace will win chimneys over one by one, if not for a lingering memory, for the sheer efficacy of my work and style. I dont need them to call the name of Michael Jarvis from the rooftops, the balance of my work is clamour enough upon the straining ceiling tiles.

1

Cigar City Leon Brandy Barrel Aged English Barleywine, The King(s) Or Leon

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Time to get down to brass tacks and finally review what many have dubbed as the “King Henry” slayer although others believe that Bloody Mary is the true King Henry slayer, wakkawakkawakka. I was holding out for someone to send this 1200 bottle limited release AND NO ONE SENT ME ONE FOR FREE, but then I landed this bottle on mybeercollectibles.com go check them out. So anyway, an apple brandy barrel aged barleywine? Does it have the temerity and strength to overcome the progeny of Rare? Let’s find out.

Leon spelled backwards is NOEL. Perfect xmas beer.

Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States
English Barleywine | 13.00% ABV

A: This has a dull reddish mahogany hue to it that doesn’t go a particularly turbid route but maintains a beautiful sheen to it. The sheeting was minimal considering the 13% abv but the carbonation left nice archipelagos. They are tiny apple brandy islands of foam where the indigenous people are wasted non-stop like a Vengaboys concert.

If you take this abroad and don’t share it, at least know how to offend people properly. This beer begs to be shared.

S: This might be the most amazing part of this beer, flat out. This is like if someone burned a Werther’s Original factory to the ground. This boasts a full caramel bouquet with nice sweet roast to it. This also reminds me a bit of a Payday bar but with a prominent brown sugar all up in the mix like some official Creme of Wheat action. The finish of it lacks much alcohol presence and reminds me of Bruery White Chocolate and a macadamia nut cookie. This is pretty decadent, even by my 10 year old palate.

T: This goes a bit sweeter than the roasty balance of the nose and if you have had apple brandy treatments of anything, you know what I am talking about This has a nice brandy aspect at first with a sweet almost cognac caramel aspect to it with the malts pulling full steam with some dark fruits like plums and pluots be grinding on one another like a slow jam. This feels like a hybrid between a nice Belgian Quad and an Old Ale given the sweetness but roasty balance. This is an exceptional beer.

This beer will warm you up more than a baby rhino wearing a blankie.

M: The coating is pretty substantial but doesn’t go balls out like Hunah, which is a good thing for this execution. I wasn’t the hugest fan of the base beer but this, like Hunah, is a completely different beast altogether. The alcohol doesn’t seem to lend heat so much as it lends a stickiness like so many ungrateful Craigslist girlfriends.

D: For 13% and massive sweetness, this is strangely drinkable. I did not find myself wincing at working through a 750 of this. Then again, most beer drinkers are gigantic blubbering labias and will find something to complain about. This will likely be where they voice their shitty timid concerns about how when it warms it is too sweet or how they wanted more chocolate stout notes in their English Barleywine just the way Mama Goose Island likes to make. Wah wah wah, don’t listen to them. Seek this beer out. This is an interesting beast and can go toe to toe with Sucaba and Kuhnhenn with Alpine Great nodding knowingly upon an altar made of bone.

Let the others stumble over themselves to land King Henry, you are a refined gentleman.

Narrative: The Kingdom of Leon held its traditions proudly, despite the constant Moorish interference with their golden heritage. The bowed masses gnashed their teeth in the gold mines, awaiting the coming of a ducal potentate to liberate them to a sweet future. They indulged on holy days and presented sweet gifts in the classic tradition. It was upon these backs that the roasted fields presented the sticky promise of a future holy barrel empire. The citizens of Leon would be challenged again and again with unerring faith, harvesting the sweet fields of malt and grain, enduring the mistreatment of a malignant king with cool determination. Leon would one day overcome. Each dynasty results in Patricide and ultimately a free exchange of golden discourse. This was no different and the Iberian Peninsula teemed with wanting desire, for soon the King should fall.

0

Cisco Brewing, Island Reserve: Saison Farmhouse Ale – MA has some fertile farms

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SAISON MARATHON CHUGS ALONG LOVINGLY.

Cisco recently killed it at GABF and Lady of the Woods has been received as a crowd pleaser by all accounts. I have enjoyed quite a few of their sours but remain relatively uninitiated with their other beers. Since this is a saison marathon, I could not rob you of this unappreciated (underknown?) gem. With their strong pedigree of sours, I expected this to go off the rails into a whole new realm. This did not disappoint and actually presented itself as one of the best american saisons that I have had in recent memory, straight up lemon lime on the funky tip. Highly recommended.

Having an island saison kinda makes me wonder about the farmhouse cred, maybe granary cred but do islands usually have a farmhouse on them? WHO KNOWS.

Cisco Brewers Inc.
Massachusetts, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.00% ABV

Label jazz:
Saison Farmhouse was fun to brew and is fun to drink. Buckwheat, oats, and rye fermented with Brettanomyces and a Saison yeast in a 50 hectoliter french oak cask. Herbs and spices grown here at the brewery replaced most of the hops. On it’s way into package it was treated to a host of microflora to create additional character over time.

A: This was a touch darker than I expected but by no means is offputting, it presents an amber and almost verges on the realm of the bronze in execution. Much like all the other saisons we have been seeing, the carbonation is intense and you have to go play a round of Borderlands and wait for it to subside. There is a nice webbing of lacing and spotty cling on the glass. I enjoy that whipped up lemon merengue, reminds me of when my alcoholic babysitter would let me mix soaps from under the sink together and breathe in the fumes.

I would hit this on the reg.

S: This smells amazing and goes a completely acidic lemon lime path very similar to last year’s old label Fantome Printemps, if you don’t know what I am talking about, I mean this:

Last year’s batch, Fantome Printemps

not to be confused with this year’s new label batch:

2012 Printemps THE RETURN

Anyway, you get a deep sprite and sierra mist with some carpet sample book that has been left in the rain. There’s a fresh grassiness to the finish and the whole things just reminds me of a fresh rain bodywash or something. Sure there’s some light breadiness on the backend up the whole beer is executed magnificiently, relative to my 11 year old palate.

T: This has an incredibly crisp apple skin at the outset with some white grape and bisquik biscuit in the middle providing some chewiness. There is a light clove aspect but largely the juicy aspects make this toe almost toward the wild ale realm ala Ithaca Brute. The cask and brett in this give it a fantastic finish that reminds me of an IMPROVED VERSION of Sanctification. I said it. Cisco killed it on this one, someone send me more plz.

It took hours of extensive saison research to reach these findings.

M: This is incredibly crisp and has a sort of chardonnay aspect to it with a brackish oakiness on the backend that makes you drill this like a negligent dentist. The fruit character and wine cooler aspect also make this approachable for all of your underaged sorority friends that you are trying to so desperately to impress. Get John Locke on them and disaow epistemological actions that you cannot confirm you performed. Feided.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable despite being drier than people’s eyes after watching Battleship. I enjoyed it thoroughly and it came across like kind of a hybrid between Printemps and Hill Farmstead E. in execution and drinkability, enough pumping up the unstoppable hubris that is Cisco Brewing, they did a hell of a job.

This beer is so good it is almost inappropriate.

Narrative: Skylar Jergens had hit his writers block. Well to be proper, it was a creativity block. Being the lead creative director at Mountain Dew entailed a mountain of responsibilities that he was heretofore able to manage. A quick glance around his spacious Pepsi Co office could evidence his series of achievements with high fructose corn syrup and water. There was his platinum bottle award for the inimitable Mt. Dew Code Red, the Pop Award of Distinction from the Midwest Conference for his Baja Blast, and who could forget his integral part in Halo Mountain Dew, brewed exclusively for gamers complicated dietary needs. Skylar tapped his pen on the legal pad and looked out the window onto the Missoula city skyline and wondered what combination of water and artificial sugars would be his next masterpiece. He idly rolled a tangelo in front of him and it suddenly hit him “HAY, WATER, INFECTED LIMES, AND ORANGE JUICE.” He clicked his Pentec pen and furiously began writing out the recipe for his new Mountain Dew magnum opus: Farmhouse Burst.

0

Dark Horse Monster29, Two Liters of 20% Abv Double Barleywine to the Dome Piece

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I know what you are thinking, “a DOUBLE barleywine? What manner of chicanery is this?” Fear not, I have this one under control. This beer is a brewery only, growler only release from Dark Horse. Why this brewery chose to growler a 20% abv beer in two liter format is beyond me but, here we are. I am told something to the tune of 30 growlers of this were filled and it was $50 a fill, so this was quite an undertaking. This is not an iced beer, just straight up doubled down barleywine, so let’s get to it.

No need to worry, this is just another monster.

Dark Horse Brewing Company
Michigan, United States
American Barleywine | 20% (?) 17.50% ABV (?) There are conflicting reports and I am unaware if this was lab tested. Either way, God damn.

A: Just look at that tepid inky blackness. The growler leaked en route from Michigan and getting even a drop of this mahogany darkness on your skin is like tattoo ink or that black stuff from Pirates of Dark Water. There is little carbonation to speak of but just look at that sheeting. The clear alcohol on the glass takes everything like 16th century prelates. There is no lacing, no embroidery, no quilting to tell old Gam Gam about. This beer has zero fucks to spare.

Spread that sticky double barleywine all over the place.

S: The bouquet is outrageously sweet, with notes of caramel, oak, bourbon, vanilla, toffee, and Heath bars. I must reiterate: this beer is NOT ice distilled. Furthermore, it is not even barrel aged, but I am told that Dark Horse has sinister plans of actually barrel aging this beast and unleashing it upon the Michigan public to determine the extent that their livers can withstand. Detroit is basically the nation’s haunted house, so I am confident that this beer will not shake things up in that region.

T: This has an initial huge sweetness that is similar to charred brown sugar, maple syrup, mocha caramel, and some sticky light pine at the backend. This is a complete monster through and through. I shared this at the Bruery with the staff that had just finished the 19.x% batch of Black Tuesday from this year and everyone in attendance was mystified at this beer. This drinks in a manner leaning towards liqueur in the intense booziness and sticky residual sugar profile. I spread this around the attendants of the tasting room like a DUI Fairy, blessing each participant with court sanctions classes and bus rides.

Take this to a club. Share with size 00 women. Post results.

M: This is incredibly sticky and lingers for a long time after the finish. I drank about 12oz of this and that was an incredible feat given the complexity, sweetness, and downright booziness. This is not exceptionally difficult to drink, but it will put you directly to bed. You don’t get the alcoholic burn that you would be expecting from a Manticore of this proportion, but it will still light up your chest like E.T.

D: This is a highly nuanced beer that can be enjoyed completely flat and at room temperature, that being said, this is not exceptionally drinkable. I can only imagine the marketing meeting at Dark Horse where they decided that 64oz growlers were the appropriate serving size for this Chimera. I am glad to have tried it but it was on the upper end of what I can tolerate. I have to remind you, this is reviewing it in light of TNP, Five Squared, Double Black, and the other “ultra-beers” that I have tried. This warrants an entirely new style classification. In sum, a great beer that should be shared without hesitation.

If you open up a 2 liter growler of this, the time for fucking around has long since elapsed.

Narrative: Clarence Cimmerian was born in Madison County, Illinois to humble beginnings. The water birth was a success and he shed the successive husks of his nascent shell in accordance with the waning of the lunar cycles, as was tradition with the broodlings in his bloodline. His foster parents weren’t sure exactly how to treat him, what with his 7 clicking sticky mandibles and front hooves oozing acrimonious gel. Sure, he was a “monster” in the loosest sense, but what is a monster but that which has not been classified? The Cimmerians patted his smooth carapace and handed the sack lunch to one of his writhing metatarsus and motioned for him to board the bus. His compound lenses scanned his classmates and excreted a putrid larvae onto the classroom floor, for first grade was even more taxing for the dark grub harvester, Prince of a thousand reliquaries.

0

Hair of the Dog, Bourbon Fred from the Wood, I Think I Am Getting a Clue, Oh Wait It is Bourbon Wood.

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Hair of the Dog releases can get out of hand. The last time Adam from the Wood was released, everyone on the trading boards lost their shit and the traders who were sitting on entire cases could not be compelled to let bottles go. Well, some time has passed, wounds have healed, and livers have regenerated. This is the often overlooked analog to Adam from the Wood, Bourbon Fred. Apparently the first release had some carb issues and it affected the ratings but I can safely say that this 2012 release is incredible and it appears that the ratings are spiking harder than a 6 man tournament. Let’s get after it:

If you see Fred up in the club, hit him with a bourbon high five.

Hair of the Dog Brewing Company / Brewery and Tasting Room
Oregon, United States
American Strong Ale | 12.00% ABV

A: This isn’t the most beautiful beer that I have ever poured, but sometimes it is inside what counts. To my amazement, this beer was actually carbonated, unlike so many other Kuhnhenn and HotD offerings. Matt was flat, Adam has been tepid, but this just bursts with excessive lacing and frothy tiny bubbles. It was like every time that I had been burned by prior offerings was amended with this jam.

At 12% abv, this will hit you out of nowhere.

S: This is as barrel as it gets, you get coconut, macaroon, vanilla, sweet heat and nice sweet pancakes smell cum de IHOP. Whenever I see trifling ass beer blogs complain about heat on a BA beer, it is like someone complaining about an escort being “too forward.” That is what you paid for, peep game. This is ready to roll and at 12% abv, things could get way more twisted.

T: This is pretty easy to summarize, the castle door drops down and some gentle maple and Werther’s original flavors enter and then HOLY SHIT BOURBON IS RIDING AN ELEPHANT. There is a harem of servants casting vanilla and sweet oak chips to the clamoring masses. The bourbon is so far forward that it is in the engine compartment. No punchlines, no riddles, I am talking white squares with a stamp in the middle.

This beer rocks crazy vanilla, but is smooth as hell. Word to your mother.

M: This has an incredible dryness but also a sticky malt that pulls from both ends like a sorority tug of war. You are up in your glass communicating with the bourbon like Michael and KITT, perfectly integrated. This leaves residual sugars lingering and nice sheeting of alcohol to think about. The 12’s up in your mouth leave that palate shaking like it got Parkinson’s Disease, but it is so damn fulfilling.

D: If you are accustomed to merking Buffalo Trace to the skull, this might be your session beer. For most people, this is too big, too sweet, too complex, and too heated to session up on, however, the 12oz single is a solid banger. If this was in a bomber you’d be forgetting to pick your kids from school, taking apart the VCR and shit.

I just want moar.

Narrative: It was hard for Malcolm Rogers to relate to the guys. They always rooted for the Big 10, what with him and his fencing hobby, he felt a bit outside the ranks. However, there was one thing that Malcolm could consistently offer that would bring even the most stalwart of opposition to its knees: “DID SOMEONE SAY TOTINOS PIZZA ROLLS?” It did not matter the class, creed, or character of his guests; once those preservative laden rolls hit the table, things were off of the hook, hinges and heezy concurrently. No one really thought much about Malcom’s job, or his background. While others traded people on their fantasy teams, he would swirl 18 year bourbon in a bucket and ruminate on habbedashery. He was too classy and refined for his own good. He made horrible fantasy draft picks based on name alone, and his antechamber smacked of Anthropologie; but they tolerated him. His sweet decadent pizza rolls wafted through the KB Home, securing his eschelon amongst the bretheren.

2

Free State Old Backus Barleywine, Rolling With an MC Hammer Sized Entourage

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Alright, taking it back to the Free State on this one to show the midwest some love. On that subject, Midwest people always get toxic shock syndrome when I call Colorado “the midwest” apparently Oklahoma is not either, and Kansas must be DQ’ed by association? Can someone clear this ambiguous swath up for me? Is Montana the mid-west? Iowa? Anyway, fuck it, we are mashing out on barrel aged barleywines in today’s review, GROWLER ONLY NO BOTTLES (GONB) so you know this is colder than the fridge and the freezer, snatching up your bottles at my leisure

Look at that milky messy malty bomb. I got all the syrup.

Free State Brewing Co.
Kansas, United States
American Barleywine | 10.50% ABV

You read that right, I merked an entire 2 liter growler of this while playing Black Ops. That shit was Blackout Ops after 6 glasses.

Anyway, here’s the deal with this amazing barleywine:

Bronze Medal Winner, 1997 World Beer Championships – Barleywines.

Old Backus contains just over 2,000 pounds of malt and 55 pounds of hops. The original gravity is 25.6 P/1092 which contributes to an alcohol content of 10.5% by volume. This is a tremendously complex beer that should be savoured slowly and in moderation. It will continue to change with age as it is served unfiltered.

This barleywine is named after Richard Backus, an old friend to the Brewery.

This beer is older than your janky ass girlfriend, peep game.

A: Look. at. that. mess. God damn I have never seen such a murky, turbid barleywine. It seriously looks like the dregs from a homebrew fermentation tank BUT IN AN AMAZING WAY. There’s a nice amount of flotsam and jetsam that looks strangely decadent and alluring, like when Augustus Gloomp falls into the chocolate river. You know it is dirty, but you like it like that.

Hey so we are going to make a huge 10.5% abv barleywine oh yeah, and you can only drink it in 2 Liter format. Wait wat-

S: This smells flat out amazing. This runs with King Henry in terms of olfactory profile and just tosses hot shurikens of toffee, candied apples, brown sugar, butterscotch, Werther’s Originals, and sweet kisses from Nana. You judged me earlier for killing 2 liters of a 10.5% beer but YOU DONT KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH. This beer is official as hell, when you bite this beer, it bites back.

T: The hot 90 minute beats just keep rolling out with an amazing sticky caramel meets graham cracker soaked in chocolate milk aspect. That sounds pretty core, but trust me, when it is in liquid form, IT IS A READING FROM THE BOOK OF DANKERONOMY. The dankest book of the Old Testament.

When the Fedex guy came, I was all ears for the doorbell, knowing that my weekend was about to be destroyed by 2 liters of sticky heaven. Also, a growler came. Ba dum tish.

M: This is chewy and has a nice coating that breaks up malty buds and watches Groundhog Day with you. You get a huge candy presence and a decadent It is thick and roughs up your palate just enough so you know you need to come up with that money. I still think about this beer, is it Winter yet? I hope I still have hookups in Kansas. I crushed this growler like Bruce Banner.

D: See my previous statement and complete lack of restraint. We are talking about a fucking huge barleywine and I drilled the equivalent of 3 bombers while getting lit up by 12 year olds on Xbox live. While they have to rub one out to Mila Kunis, I get to mash on huge amazing barleywines. The world order is restored. I want to tell you not to get this beer so that there is more for me the next time it is on draft, but many of you are mouthbreathers without Fedex accounts so I will say this: this sits in my top 5 top barleywines. Think about that shit.

Killing a growler of this will erase all signs of bother.

Narrative: Old Jim Backus listened to Iron Maiden and operated a C&C Corrugated Iron Punchpress for a living. For 12 hours a day he would drill steel and eat Hungryman dinners for lunch. We are talking about over a pound of food, as indicated on the packaging. James Backus once had a supervisor who disapproved of him dipping and smoking at the same time on the worksite, 3 days later, that supervisor joined the Coast Guard. No one could figure out why. Jim never said much but he always ate a huge Abba Zabba with his lunch and far be it for his co-workers to question Jim’s actions. He was a hardass but somehow, people knew that he was sweet to the core. One of his hobbies was going to scrapyards and finding items to spot weld into playground equipment for disadvantaged children. Sure they often cut themselves on the jagged aluminum edges, but Jim wouldn’t have any pussy children horsing around on his iron sculptures of punitive diversion. Old Backus was a bad ass, just dont ask for a piece of his Abba Zabba.