@beachwoodbbq_LB System of a Stout, WHY’D YOU LEAVE THE MALTS UP ON THE TABLE youwantedto

June 3, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

There is a so much drama up in the LBC, it is kinda hard being up on DDB. Alas, I went down to cinco seis dos for a little armenian coffee stout action. Before you can make the obligatory “was this brewed in Glendale” joke, let me say no, it was not. Beachwood is finally getting shit into gear with regards to bottles and now all of a sudden all these weakpenis Johnny Come Latelies are jumping on the bandwagon. I am sure most of the people seeking this out never even tried Tovarish, but we can forgive their simple souls. Anyway, this was a 800 bottle brewery release with a few cases into distro, but in CA terms, people will be trading this for DOOM and other trifling shit. Irregardlessly, let’s see if angels deserve to die in today’s review:

Coffee, armenians, brandy, 3 series, molasses, Aqua di Gio: a lot went into this beer.

Beachwood BBQ & Brewing
California, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | 11.30% ABV

System of a Stout [Imperial Armenian Coffee Stout ] – An imperial stout infused with all the traditional ingredients of a savory cup of Armenian coffee: cardamom, molasses, coffee (of course), and brandy. In the kettle, the beer is lightly dosed with green cardamom for exotic spice notes. Molasses adds a richness that seamlessly blends in. The finished beer was then aged for several days on masterfully roasted coffee from Portola Coffee Lab in Costa Mesa. The beer was then aged for several weeks on Armenian brandy-soaked oak chips for yet another dimension of flavors and aromas. Take your time & enjoy this endlessly complex & nuanced beer.

A: This isn’t as molassesy and sticky messy as you would expect from something like Abyss, whose description might draw some parallels might invoke. It is akin to Parabola in thickness, nice khaki sheeting that eventually subsides. More stickiness than Stone IRS, less substantial than Abyss, dirty foam flying everywhere like a Serbian barbershop. You get the idea.

Some stouts take a weak base and surround it with alluring adjuncts, this stout already lifts and doesn’t need 15 year old skanks

S: This is incredibly complex on the old olfactory front, you get a deep roast at the outset that almost lends itself to a smokiness before pulling back and presenting a sweet acidic coffee note that is Portola through and though, kaffir/lime leaf/cardamom mixed with molasses ratchets things back in before closing with a sweet brandy note that reminds me almost of port sherry in a way. The whole thing is roasty yet acidic and sweet, fucking intense but worth it. Fuck their label though, drink this at 60 degrees. Chase that malt dragon and let this bitch open up.

T: This takes that roasty char and initially reminds me a lot of Abyss with a bitter chocolate and almost herbal aspect that is swept away by a massive coffee presence that is incredibly powerful and reminds me of some of the Barefoot blends, if you are a raging pussy and go to coffee cupping events, you will know what I be on. We out here. The brandy aspect is muted and comes across more as a sweet caramel on the backend rather than some dominant force present in say Leon or something.

Invite all your best chums over your Gamgam’s basement to listen them compare this beer to Brandy Huna. Step right up to get kicked in the taint.

M: This is incredibly dry, like walking into a burned down distillery, you knew some epic shit went down. The coffee just dries along the gumline and makes you demand more, taking another sip to perpetuate the cycle of poverty, sucking dicks down by the docks for top tier stouts. Don’t you judge me. But in all srs. This is a blend of Abyss and BA Speedway, straight up. if you wanna see those two scissor on a double donger, get on this malt mashup. If you can’t handle that, go back to BA Sump, IT’S SOOOOOOOO GOOOOD. No but seriously, BA Sump is like a trashfire on your pubes compared to this. Not a cool trashfire with lots of plastics/blue flame either, regular old scrotum scorching trash fire.

D: This is hard to really put away not because of the viscosity, or the dryness, but largely due to the complexity and parsing out each sip. Luckily the coffee takes a lead and doesn’t let the things with the brandy go ape shit. This is at heart a solid coffee stout with a spoiler and a body kit. I wouldn’t say it is earth shattering Galactus level shit like BA Kopi, but still worlds beyond most of the shit that I have to suffer through that people send me. What’s that? Provide a list? OK: Pipeworks Abduction, End of Days, Baume, infected Peruvian Morning, Cigar City humidor series anything, Smoke on the Porter, Smoking Wood anything, Exit Anything from Flying Fish, fucking Cherry Rye, Lindley Park, and the heap of janky shit constantly rolling out of Clown Shoes. There you go.

HEY MY LOCAL BREWERY MAKES A COFFEE STOUT IS PROLLY AS GOOD THO! Oh shit a 7 barrel rim system, let me finger my dick real quick.

Narrative: The mars rover rolled along the barren wasteland crushing igneous rocks taking photos indiscriminately seeking something provocative. The lens of the Curiosity caught an oily tentacle of a gastropod that slid along the red dirt laboriously. “Captain, you are gonna wanna take a look at this-” the mission control tech Michael Dunkin called out to his supervisor. The rover focused on the sticky mass and watched it pulsate and emit a noxious cloud of coffee aromas, changing forms and then gushing alcohol and phenols to attract the rover. It was a complicated mass of traits that most would have difficulty understanding, but all were captivated. “Extend Arm ancillary run protocol b4!” Michael called into the microphone and watched as the mass was penetrated, leaving behind a languishing mass of oaky organic material. “Sir! This thing is sentient and it appears to be made of coffee oils and Ararat oak!” The living fungus of mars had melded the discarded materials from earth in a fortuitous blend. Not all would find it captivating, but size 0 gourmand females would herald the dawn of a new gastronomical science.

Jack’s Abby BA Framinghammer Triple Fucking Shootout: BA, Vanilla and Coffee. Pepper that Angus for the Lager Lovin.

May 29, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Since I have been neglecting the fuck out of this trashheap of a website, I figure that some Jack’s Abby loving is in order, in the form of a tawdry threeway. Barrel aged Framinghammer is a slick little treat from those lager masters up in the frigid northeast. Just when I thought my beer boner was on full swole, they bust out two fleshlight treatments: vanilla and coffee. Cialis levels attained. To clarify, these were not aged in fleshlights, though. One can dream.

Here is the regular ass Framinghammer. Just a world class beer, nothing to see here.

Here is the regular ass BA Framinghammer. Just a world class beer, nothing to see here.

Jack’s Abby Brewing
Massachusetts, United States
Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV

The 2013 bottles were aged in Old Weller 107 bourbon barrels.

The beer is inversely better than my shitty picture, so it’s really good. Vanilla balling.

Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV
– Aged on vanilla beans, no fucking shit.

I love that HF stemware but I can’t help but feeling like a premenopausal single mom clutching it. Watching Nurse Jackie and Damages and shit.

Baltic Porter | 10.00% ABV
Big, bold, black and barrel aged. A length conditioning period in bourbon barrels creates a silky smooth chocolatey mouth feel enhanced by the use of oats and brown sugar. Noticeable sweetness gets balanced by roasted malt and hop bitterness. Additional flavors include bourbon, vanilla, and oak. This one is aged on Barismo coffee strictly for the pre-teens and the roast haterzz.

A: I say this with the utmost sincerity: they look exactly the fucking same. Some would argue that the carb levels might be a bit different or the lacing has some mild variation but that guy probably reads Pitchfork media and fingers his pisshole when he gets home from his job at Lowe’s so fuck that guy. It is slick and nimble in its blackness, straight scared squid action with an inkiness that imparts a degree of wateriness in the splishy splashing. The carb is a single finger of mocha foam that subsides and gives way to some bottom fermenting beauty. This porter is distinctly porter with none of this “IS BBXXIV A STOUT” sort of bullshit thread creating nonsense. Porters por vida.

This isn’t like the porters that you buy, mine have adjuncts and were inaccessible and aged in barrels so it’s ok for me to have stretch marks.

Smell

Barrel aged:
This beer has a fantastic waft to it with oak, caramel, milk chocolate, a silky Dove bar dipped in E&J, and a mallow foam stroking it in the corner. It is a 1970’s mashup of discoteque madness with porters doing cocoa rails off of unshaven bush. Very legit all around, but then the variants stepped in-

Vanilla:
This goes apeshit and gives you more vanilla than you are bargaining for. The effect is so pronounced that it almost comes across like vanilla frozen yogurt or some Coldstone Creamery madness. The regular had pronounced vanilla and this takes the bullhorn and starts pumping sticky sweet AWOL Nation shit up your nose that’s a bit too produced to be loved. Too sweet, too methodical.

Coffee:
Unlike the vanilla, this takes the base beer and massages the palm lightly, pressing a cup of joe in its hand and leaving some lipstick on the glass. This feels decadent and classy with a sharp roastiness that leans closer to the acidity profile found in the Black Cat series if you are one of those dudes who smells cups of coffee while buying your shitty Armani cologne. But for realtalk, this is the best smelling variant and doesn’t forgo the other aspects, the coffee works hand in hand with the baker’s chocolate, sticky brownie batter, and maintains that clean lager waft to it without any meddling esters in the mix.

Winrar: Coffee, easy game next question.

Give this to your trifling friends, watch their faces when you tell them it is a lager, post your stupid findings in a forum condescending on them in a passive aggressive way you pussy.

Taste

Barrel Aged Sweetits:
This has an amazing clean crispness that belies the expectations of some stouty mess running along your jawline. It opens with a cocoa aspect, some 85% cacao you impulse buy at Trader Joes, nice 4 Roses sort of sweetness in the finish that screams mallow and werther’s original with a light pat of coconut on the ass. Just fantastic.

Vanilla Facial:
This again just pushes all of the other aspects out of the spotlight and the base beer could not even beer barrel aged since the sticky cake batter just drops hot loads on everyone’s chest. It is just too much, too sweet, almost reminds me of a sticky oiliness in execution. Let me say all this with the qualifier that it is STILL BETTER than almost every BA porter that I have had, but these three just wreck buttholes in tandem so it’s hard to be forgiving.

Coffee Groping:
This has some of the same issues as vanilla, what with it pushing the espresso harder than a 7th grade weed dealer, pumping a hipster agenda. But god damn, you willingly comply because the product it is moving is so good. The beans and coffee merge with the seamless chocolate fondant wateriness of the base beer and it is a perfect fusion of RomCom and softcore coffee porn. You know the type.

WinRar: Gotta give it to Barrel Aged on this one.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter which variant you pick, someone is getting fucking destroyed.

Moutherfeelings:

Again, all of these have the similar base of a swift brown water rafting trip (i.e. in Jalisco.) The toasted malts don’t hang around too long and the chocolate, almond, whipped mocha aspects all embrace the barrel lovingly. The coffee is a bit drier than the other two, but it makes you thirstier for something that is already exceptionally drinkable. The vanilla is a bit more sticky and if you shop at Lane Bryant, you could probably drink this while everyone else is at prom/getting hand jobs and you can smile in the mirror with your sweet khaki stained teeth and tell yourself that you have a good personality. But ultimately, the sticky sheeting and cling to the vanilla gets old fast, like that pesky 10th grader who wont stop texting you after you said you loved her. Fucking clingy.

Winrar: Coffee.

Drinkability:

It is tough to break these buys apart in this aspect because I could crush these like homeless people crush cans at a recycling center: all day and while covered in filth. The variants are a bit less drinkable overall because of stylistic hurdles, but they are still damn near session beers and drink like Edmund Fitzgerald that leads to DUI-city at 10% abv. Even the most closed vagina would embrace that clamshell hug for how drinkable these old chestnuts are.

Winrar: Barrel Aged version.

Overall winner, bossing your palate the fuck around, telling you what’s what:

The Coffee version pounded size 1 hipster men in their skinny livers, have them all redfaced talking about some shitty half finished memoire that they are finishing, the great american coming of age lager that most people with defined lats will trashcan and enjoy.

The coffee is amazing, so it wins.

NARRATIVE:

If you think I am typing a narrative for you ungrateful loftdwellers after laying down a solid 1200 words, you can push your testicles into your butthole.

I bet it does.

@thebruery Brandy Barrel Bois, Turk BG Weezy and Juvie aka them Hot Bois

May 28, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

I had to abstain last year from reviewing Fruet because of some rusty ass wd40 haters, so in atonement for same, I might as well get on my shit and review the Brandy Barrel variant of this year. Some would expect me to pipe down the French Oak Hoarder’s variant, but balling out of control implies a modicum of control. Don’t worry, mama knows child. Anyway, this was my personal favorite variant, but the quality of this beer is demonstrated by the fact that no one that I talked to agreed on which variant was best. My pervert ass friend with a small beer dick preferred the Virgin Bois. There’s an entendre somewhere in there, feck it.

You guys I am instagramming now, I practically know photoshop, everything sepia from now on.

The Bruery
California, United States
Old Ale | ABV 15.5%

“Bois is our fifth anniversary ale, loosely brewed in the English-style Old Ale tradition using our house Belgian yeast strain and then blended using the solera method. A portion of each of our anniversary ales is saved in our barrels and blended in with the next year’s production, providing more complexity and depth of character that comes with age. Layered with complex flavors of dark fruit,vanilla, oak, and burnt sugar, Bois is a robust ale, surely the perfect beer to mark this major milestone.”

A: This is a murky muddy affair not unlike Melange 3, or the other anniversary beers for that matter. It has a gentle head that has a beatuiful “coffee in the garbage disposal” turbid gurgle to it that lets you know that shit is about to get real. The lacing tries its best but the clear sheeting wipes the slate clean like an incriminating etch a sketch pretty quickly.

If you complain about ABV, fusel notes, or residual sugars, you might be a raging pussy: CALL 1-800-JIZZPALATE FOR A FREE CONSULTATION

S: This is the sweetest variant but it balances the base beer and compliments the fuck out of it like episode 1 of every season the Bachelor. There is a raisin, sticky sweet alcohol waft, bourbon, vanilla, caravienne, caramel, and feels like an amped up BB4d with a bit more deep fruits and a bit more astringency. It hits your nose holes and runs harder than C-Breezy.

T: The taste presents a toasty char, fig, caramelized dates, there is an after dinner port/sherry aspect to this that is like a quad taking n0x and getting lats blasting like bat wings. The taste is ridiculously barrel forward and leaves a wafty almond/fusel aspect to it that piggy backs behind the sweet notes with a stern authority. You aren’t afraid of detention, but when the brandy barrel kicks in you know you are about to be suspended as fuck and your liver is gonna be stopsign red.

opened this up alone and my face be like

M: This is not as hot as the waft would lead you to believe, there is a sweet dryness to it that just improves as it warms. If you are being a complete pussy and drink 1.5oz of this at some shitty “OMG ALL THE ANNY BEIRS TASETING!!!” at least let it warm up before you drop a hot 3.75 on it like a dickhead. It has a sticky residual aspect that all but guarantees a DUI in your khaki gumline and ICP cd bumping from your Pontiac Sunfire.

D: In all honesty, this is not some massive session beer that you can rock hard and put away wet. This beer will dominate your palate, push other beers to the backseat and make you file a cell transfer request to the tastebud warden. If you can put away a bottle of this, you can join the DDB club of underlying alcoholism, your secret is safe with me. In summary, this is extreme, yet refined, boozy, yet addicting. I killed the entire bottle but other vagina mouths will likely complain about things they don’t know about. If you are one of those “modified pullup” drinkers that cant handle BCBS fresh, put this away for 9 months and leave the rest of us out of your unmerited complaints. Bottom line: this is an exceptional beer well in line with BB4D, better than Coton and Papier, but not as delicious at 100% BA Cuir. If you have context for what I am saying, then both of you, let’s get a beer.

Some people just know how to be gettin it. Don’t hate.

Narrative: There was a mystical energy in Warren Gibson. He was poised and refined while maintaining a quiet power in his stature. Variety once called him “MR SUMMER BLOCKBUSTER” and he looked upon his various awards while glancing out upon the Wilshire traffic. “You destroyed Catwoman, you will never work again!” he recalled and took a sip of 18 year brandy. The royalty checks kept rolling in and he read some hateful Battlefield Earth mail and ran his fingers across the cold mahogany of his opulent desk. IF anyone else had been a silent producer on Hudson Hawk, Speed Racer, and Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, they might second guess themselves. This man was a powerhouse with an active playbook of amazing productions that none could touch. However, his silent endeavors were a bit too heavyhanded for those who did not understand them. The pure heat of his production values intimidated many and pushed them to the RomCom genre. “You cannot argue with success” was the motto on his vanity plate and he smiled while concurrently signing the greenlight on a film that would win Cannes and the approval for Pluto Nash 2: Pluto’s Dissent.

Perennial Barrel Aged Sump Coffee Stout, Straight Double Yuban on the Canadian Mist Tip

May 20, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Even since that god damn Barrel Aged Abraxas dropped, people have been losing their shit over this brewery. They make some genuinely awesome beers and their berliners are too legit for any form of quitting. However, like anything else, the hype sometimes outpaces the product and people were stumbling over themselves to nab anything, it was like Sub Pop in the early 90’s putting out all these janky products and people were still buying the grunge shit. Anyway, here’s an overhyped coffee stout that some people have been getting creamer in their jeans over, let’s brew this brah:

The label is dark and metal, the beer is straight Nescafe RIS

Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.50% ABV

A: This pours out not unlike some black coffee with a deep slickness to it, nice khaki head on it that immediately peaces the fuck out. The coating is pretty lackluster and it looks like old Czar Jack in the wateriness department. It turns into a Vente drip almost instantly and chins are rested upon fists forthright.

That’s pretty much what happened to me.

S: This has a huge acidic waft to it of gritty coffee beans the produces a harsh roast with an acrimonious finish. This is not like BCBCS where you are like “ah Tortuga, yeah lime kaffir lime, nice acidity” not like that at all, this just nose fucks you like you used way too much Seattle’s best in a drip batch. If you are stoked for some barrel treatment, keep moving because this has that BA Sexual Chocolate treatment, namely, no barrel waft at all. If you grasp at straws and let this warm up hoping for some vanilla, oak, or something redeeming: be prepared to smell barista musk and more gritty spent grounds.

T: This is coffee forward backward and undercarriaged. There really is nothing else but a huge roasty coffee haymaker that puts you on your ass and leaves you licking the drip brew off your teeth wondering about the chocolate malts, maybe a bit of complexity from the barrel? Too bad, you get cold coffee that gets you pretty dreezed fairly easily. It’s like you keep thinking Jenelle Evans will improve, but its the same one note offputting character that you have come to grimace at.

Thought I was about to be on some coffee radio Rahim shit, it was like Amy Grant small batch brew.

M: This is incredibly thin not unlike Eclipse, but wholly lacking in the barrel complexity. At least when you drink thin ass Eclipse you can nod and go “alright, nice mallow, nice vanilla and oak” but here you just shake your head looking into your tepid black coffee and see your fat double chins staring back up at you, wondering if you can ever get partial custody of your unappreciative children. The acidity just dries the gumline and sits on your teeth like a mocha frap poured into Stone IRS. You know how Kopi Speedway or Bourbon County coffee presents a substantial coffee profile that lingers buttressed by the malts underneath? Well this is like coffee first, stout second, a distant last place in this two person relay.

D: If you absolutely love South American coffees and highly acidic brews, and generally dislike stouts, you will anomalously love this coffee stout. I drank about 10 oz of this after committing it to the plumbing vortex of trader’s lament. It would be unfair to say that regular Ryan Bros. Speedway Stout is better than this, since personal tastes may vary, but please trade cautiously for this old roustabout. Well shoot, there goes my donation box from Perennial, go blackout and watch an iCarly marathon and start making some good life decisions.

“You probably just don’t like coffee or stouts” solid arguments coming from Twitter on the reg.

Narrative: Dwayne Wade just did not know what to do with himself in the post-season. He kicked the opulent white tiger rug in his gaudy Miami mansion and looked out his 18 foot floor to ceiling windows over the ocean villas. “Sometimes I feel like, maybe balling outrageous is only the tip of how ill D-Wade can bring it,” he thought to himself. He walked across the imported marble foyer and remembered a smoking hot Suicide Girl barista that he used to bone and nodded to himself, he would be the world’s most ballerest barista. Problem was, D-wade was too fucking big to fit in standard barista operations. His brash coordination was not the same employed in the brewing of small roast batches. Thrice he pounded the espresso machine and broke the handle while frothing the fuck out of some milk. He was skilled in many things, but he would ruin the fuck out of your morning cup of joe. Just before he was fired from “Grounded Buzz!” coffeeshop, Lebron James entered and purposely ordered a depth charge red eye, served as a press with a 2 min shot. D-wade had never faced a coffee dilemma like this since his period of prestigious academia at Marquette University. LeBron gave him a hulking thumbs up as he cast the green apron into the coffee station and slapped a female co-worker on her ass, spilling a substantial amount of Colombian fresh roast on the floor. Ballerest fucking barista ever, shittiest coffee ever.

2011 Horal’s Oude Gueuze Megablend, Composition Fallacy Pounding up in them Guts

May 16, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

I won the fuck out of this trade. I sent a couple of bottles of my homebrewed persimmon Lambic Pediobear and got this amazing beer in return. Etan hooked me up huge with this one, super serious.

For the uninitiated, working through geuze blenders, actual brewers, barrel houses, and De (x=whateverthefuck) is a difficult process. Sometimes you end up with dank shit, other times it is Timmerman’s disguised waiting to spring that $22 trap on your wallet. Most people don’t fuck around and stick to the old 3F, Tilquin, Loonz, but sometimes you put your dick in the oude gueuze glory hole and get some acrimonious treat.

The Mega Blend Geuze is a blend of young and old Lambic from eight HORAL members (3 Fonteinen, Boon, De Cam, De Troch, Hanssens, Lindemans, Oud Beersel and Timmermans). The beer was specially produced for the occasion of the 7th edition of the Tour de Geuze, and again in the 2011 installment. I know what you are worried about, “I swear to fuck Lindemans better not ruin this shit for me, I am having a Pi Phi over tonight to watch the Notebook.” Well let’s see if this shit goes Mega on the Dr. Wily tip.

More Mashups Than a Girltalk Bootleg

Brewed by Brouwerij F. Boon
Style: Lambic – Gueuze
Lembeek, Belgium
7% abv

A: This has that classic radiant orange to it and certainly is greater than the sum of its parts because I have seen some shitty looking De Cam (flat as a sack of placenta) and some even worse Hanssens (murkier than a Kyle XY subplot.) The look makes me believe that those 3F boys had a hand in this with Boon but, appearances can be deceiving. The carb is nice but not some massive gusher, the lacing is largely abated by the acidity but it is still elegant.

No composition fallacy here, shit is better than the sum of its parts. Damn levels detected.

S: This is musky and gives the smell of oranges, lemon rind, acidity couples with rainy day bicycle seat funk. There is a certain wet compost aspect to this like dewy leaves along with the grapefruit and ph1 madness taking place. This will put your olfactory on the ground faster than Diddy’s bodyguard gets ripped out of a Maybach. That fast.

T: Again this is a strange Voltron of all these geuzezes, you get the muskiness imparted that smacks of deep age and light oxidation, some gentle persimmon sweetness that is quickly pushed out of the way to embrace tangelo, kumquat, tart tiny apricots, and a kind of green apple finish. Put your brewer master bible down you limpdicked diacetyl asshole, no one is talking to you.

M: This is incredibly dry like a super oaked chardonnay and just rips the fuck out of your jawline. If yo have ever undergone ZOOM whitening, you will know the depths of this jimmy rustling. There is a bit of a brackish finish that welcomes the next punishing sip, and I am down for the pound like Jason Collins, oh shit, too soon for those jokes? Alright, pretend I reference Rob Kardashian being a fat entitled Armenian fuck or something.

Pop this bottle at a tasting, show everyone you are beta as fuck.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable despite its acrimonious character. I put up with the hard times because the good times are so good, like fucking a Suicide Girl, you know in the end you may lose your friends and parents respect, but you keep hitting it. I would recommend this to anyone who isn’t a complete pussy, which rules out a large segment of the beer community, those who are left are either lumberjacks or don’t even drink gueuze so it will be a tough sell. Here’s a test to see if you should drink this beer, lean forward to your compute screen, if your tits are currently supported by the desk, you need to do some p90 and leave this shit alone.

If you open this, you probably believe you are some kind of gueuze hero, but people know what you really are.

Narrative: David Yost looked out over the Baltimore skyline and slipped his middle-aged face into the tight fitting azure helmet. Throughout the early-90’s children knew him only as the sophisticated blue ranger. He was mercilessly harassed by producers, but they obviously did not know who they were fucking with. Beneath the cool demeanor was a man capable of evoking a mechanical triceratops and conjuring the imagination of millions. Perhaps his perpetually matching garb and needlessly science driven banter was too much for some, but FOX could fuck right off. David slid down a drain pipe and worked his way stealthily amongst the west end projects. The feel of the cool vinyl on his skin was liberating and let him know that, despite his age, he was still a hero to many. His depth and complexity was laudable beyond the mere zord that he contributed the critical mass. Upon witnessing a hand to hand drug transaction David Yost kicked a Baltimore youth in the stomach with a swift roundhouse. The 16 year-old dropped on his Jnco jeans and David felt like he was battling Putties again, only this time with a real purpose. The vials of crack cocaine scattered and some Southpole clad youth could not believe that a white man in a blue costume was kicking the shit out of drug dealers with poise and careful dignity. As the thugs scattered David removed his helmet and bit into a ripe kumquat from the local bodega. The memory of his fallen Yellow Ranger, Thuy Tran, resonating like acid in his heart.

Ale Apothecary Sahalie, Thanatos Has Assembled all of the Saison Gems and Your World Is About To End

May 1, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

It is not a well guarded secret that I love me some saisons. Shit, didn’t we do something like 34 days in a row of saison reviews? That’s what I thought. Anyway, this banger started some serious buzz on the top saison lists and at first I dismissed it as some farmhouse chicanery, but batch after batch it kept creeping higher and higher until I buckled and sought out this elusive farmhorse. Some people got their tampax all sideways when I said that this was rare, apparently 55 wants 4 gots wasnt rare enough for them. But landing this is kinda a bitch, so take that for what you will. Plus this bottle was like $30 or something, so you gotta ball outrageous to fucks with this. Let’s get to it.

As with many of my other saison reviews, I swear I didn’t pour this like a dicktouch. These saisons come out like broken washing machines.

The Ale Apothecary
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 11% ABV (Jan 2013 release)

A: This is just outright beautiful and pours a hazy turbid orange with bright gold hues at the edges. The cabonation is ridiculous and almost to the point of being obnoxious i.e. Upland Lambic steeze. The soapy bubbles keep on coming and its like bath time for the farm hands. The lacing is also pretty ridiculous making the inside of your glass looking like a Baroque sex party, lace and frills all over the place.

If you think you are a saison expert, you probably are a raging pussy. I should know, I am a saison expert and no one can beat my ass.

S: This has an incredible nose to it at low temperatures. In fact, let me condition this entire review by noting that at 45 degrees and 60+ degrees this beer is an entirely different experience. When very cold you get this light acidity, pears, melon, lemon grass, floral hibiscus sort of earthiness but a big juiciness to it. As it warms, this thing pulls out its 11% dick and pounds your nosehole with careless abandon. It gets this really offputting fusel and astringent quality and reminds me of pissing off the saison Hulk. You wont like this beer when it is angry.

T: Again, when this beer is cold, it is mindblowingly good and absolutely world class. If you have had Handfarm, think of that but a juiced up imperial version. If you had Clos Preal batch 1 then you will know exactly the high abv saison beat I am talking about. This presents apricot, acidity almost like a musky beatification with less tartness, apple skin, honeydew, lemon and a sorta of parmesan cheese musk that lingers with the juiciness after you swallow. This is just phenomenal. When this beer gets warm, watch out because shit gets real pretty quickly. It gets this heat to it like an imbalaned Belgian Tripel with this boozy pineapple meets gin ester that is really offputting. It is incredible that a beer can be both world class and hateful at the same time. A truly bipolar bitch.

With an 11% saison, part of me things someone pulled a nasty trick on me. BUT I LIKE IT.

With an 11% saison, part of me thinks someone pulled a nasty trick on me. BUT I LIKE IT.

M: This maintains a nice lip smacking dryness with a lingering oakiness to it not unlike fresh Temptation. The acidity is restrained and the abv is masked in a way that is staggering. IF you have a sorority girl you want to put to sleep, this beer will do the trick. “Date rape jokes are not funny” I agree, but we can all agree that having a quiet DG is a vast improvement in any situation. This is exceptionally refreshing at low temps and just starts flipping over card tables if you dont watch your glass at higher temperatures.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable as long as you get to it fast and dont let those sticky alcoholic tones spread their wings. If you sit on this its like a colony of zergling eggs that just need some incubation. You go from exceptional funk and musk, light lemons to face melting pineapple liqueur in a matter for 25 minutes. Again, take all of this under the caveat that you cannot just take Sahalie out to a seafood dinner and expect to hit the sheets. You have to put that saison time in and really enjoy this under the right conditions, otherwise things get out of hand really quickly. It is like “This is the best beer I have had in a long ti- OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME THATS WHERE I POOP FROM-” and the kid is pointing out what the saison did to you on a doll in pretrial proceedings.

Tell me how easy this beer is to land. I don’t give a fuck.

Narrative: Dwayne Johnson was a mild mannered tier of the rural Texas community within the pleasant town of Elderton. His tan Grecian form lumbered to the mailbox and he waved to the mailman with an inviting smile. “Hey Big D!” Thomas Norse, the local postal officer waived to the monster of a human from across the street. As he walked inside he reviewed his Verizon bill and felt his traps pulse with a taut anger. “I…I am on the unlimited PLANNNN-” he thought angrily and clenched his jaw. Dwayne exhaled slowly and regained his cool composure and sat down to his usual breakfast of 2 eggs, 10 oz filet and oatmeal. “I dont see why they would charge me with OVERAGES WHEN I HAVE UNLIMITED ACCESS” he gripped his melon and fiercely bit into an apricot. He rounded the foyer of his house only to see that someone had writted “TOO FAST TOO FAGGOT” on the side of his tasteful raised Bronco. “THAT IS TOO MUCH!” he roared and tore away his tiny tank top revealing his massive frame. He was a gentle soul, but if you got him hot, his genial aspect converted quickly into a 250 lbs wrecking ball that even the most patient DMV employee could not console.

Kuhnhenn Bourbon Barrel French Toast Mead, Like Making out with an Escort in an IHOP

April 24, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Ok in case the last review did not cotton favor to you and your landlocked state, today is another glowing review of an ambrosial treat from the midwest. This is a decadent treat that should likely be reviewed on http://www.dontdrinkmead.com but sadly that website doesn’t exist. It doesn’t exist for a good reason, mead is delicious and you should always drink it and never not drink it. If you are baller enough to afford rare, expensive meads; and have the palate for them: you are a bad ass and no one should question what you are drinking. Let’s get all buttered up for today’s french toast review.

Representing that D Block crowd so hard. Need mead because it’s so cold in the D

Kuhnhenn Brewing Company
Mead
16% Abv

A: This pours like a still cider or a riesling. The sheeting is fantastic and the legs are this wave of alcoholic glaze that coats the glass with your future blackout. The bright yellow lucidity of the mead is inviting and just looks decadently sweet to the core.

This is burly, yet cloyingly sweet. Don’t act like you dont be wanting it.

S: This is staggering on so many levels, complexity and sheer saccharine levels. There is the waft of buttery pecan, maple syrup, cinnamon, baked bread, a sort of toffee sweetness and closes with this oily churro aspect that makes it clear that this beer is not here to fall in line. This beer will ruin you and think nothing of it. The whole smell is like the world’s most baller waffle house. If they would have integrated the smell of Newports and the waft of stripper glitter in the nose, IT WOULD BE LIKE I WAS REALLY THERE.

T: This follows the nose dead on and delivers a sticky sweet blast of butter, pecans, candied almond, bisquik, maple syrup, and a cinnamon close that just ties the whole thing together like a crazy beer from Funky Buddha. This mead takes things far beyond just fermented honey and hits zones way beyond those that are usually encountered in beer profiles. Things get rooty and tooty albeit they are not fresh nor fruity.

Bust out a rare decadent treat, show people you wont be fucked with.

M: This is sticky and coats with a deep honey aspect, however, the funtime sweetness is burned off as the midday alcohol astringency comes through like a liqueur on the backend, drying up all the loose ends and making you feel MARGARINELY better about this buttery treat you just consumed. This is boozy, buttery, sweet, and hot with alcohol: like most women from Alabama, I assume.

D: This is both impossible to drink, and exceptionally drinkable at the same time due to the abv, sticky sweetness, and just amazingly delicious presentation. You probably COULD drink an entire bottle of this, but I dont know if that is what they were intending when they tossed this bad boy into 375ml bottles. This is meant to be shared so you can later share epipens and check your insulin levels with your buddies. SHARING IS CARING.

It may not be what you are used to, but it is still lovable nonetheless.

Narrative: I am recovering from a diabetic coma, no review today. Just make some shit up about fingerbanging an IHOP waitress or something.

Revolution Brewing Mean Gene Flicking that Mean Bean on the Clean Scene

April 22, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

I give the midwest traders dress downs on the regular for shittyh trade offers and some people get butthurt at the perceived bias. In the future I will try to clown on Florida and the Pacific Northwest to make some amends. In the interim, how about a completely fucking favorable beer review of something amazing straight out of the 312? Can we still be friends? I have had latent curiosity about Revolution ever since I tried Mad Cow, and every offering that I have subsequently enjoyed has been amazing. This brewery is spitting crazy ether and dropping hot 16s on cyphers just making other midwest breweries, excepting maybe Haymarket, getting copped up and clapped quick. So enough massaging the sack, let’s get at these beans.

I was gonna make an erection/wood play here but, at this point it is like a single entendre

Revolution Brewing Company – Brewpub
Illinois, United States
American Porter | 8.50% ABV

A: This beer is full of fucking life for a deep malignant looking brew. It froths out crackly and excited, lacing the glass and looking like a Honduran waterpark all dark and full of vigor. The lacing looks great and it maintains that clearly porter aspect to it with some nice legs but no crazy char staining the glass like the petulant beast Huna, just ruining carpets and doling out paternity tests.

It is tough to argue with porters that are this good.

S: This has an incredible interplay between the coffee, roast, light oak, vanilla and the barrel cloystered way in the back like an approving parent. This doesn’t go apeshit in any one aspect and the coffee has this acidity that gently scissors the barrel aspects, straight grinding them beans. I could quaff this all day but don’t think I am some quaffer, ain’t nobody got time for that.

T: This reminds me of “Baby BA Kopi” in many ways. The coffee doesn’t go as hard, the barrel has this coconut/oak/roasty aspect and a gentle vanilla that is not the relief pitcher it is the closer. This just has an incredible balance that remains distinctly porter and doesn’t go down this quasi-stout road. I could drink this all day, hit parked cars, holler at pregnant women and get lackluster hugs from drunk sorority chicks. It is that kinda beer.

cant land limited barrel aged porters? Don’t cry, drink an Edmund Fitzgerald and think about things that coudl have been.

M: This washes clean and just serves to dice shit up quickly with little residual sugars but a great barrel character that is restrained enough that you don’t need to plan ahead or split this. Fuck your friends, they didn’t show up to your Slam Poetry competition, drink this alone. The watery aspects would usually be a knock, but in this instance it just delivers shit up flawless. These other breweries wanted beef until Revolution started serving up slabs. This is on the same level as Batch 2 Birth of Tragedy and gives a sly nod to Jack’s Abby BA Framinghammer, being in the mix with the late great porters.

D: Taken as a whole, this beer is incredibly drinkable and masks that abv with great depth but at colder temps a sort of incredible simplicity. At higher temps the beers opens up and shows its more complex sides, a lil something for everyone. It’s like putting on a Crazy Town album, just incredible depth and clarity for all, magnum opus of- just kidding I can’t even type this, Crazy Town is worse than stapling your labias together.

Bourbon, char, roast, chocolate just getting up in the mix for a sick cuddle sesh

Narrative: Gepetto’s woodworking shop was not performing as expected. Perhaps it was his fault, opening a fanciful woodshop in 17th century Vienna. People just did not have the need for trifles and dolls in a post-reformation world. Gepetto would get so lonely, looking out the shop windows, observing the bustling populace going to and fro. It was never in his constitution to be a butcher or a baker, he was born for the baroque and ornate woodworking was the only thing he knew. Sometimes patrons would frequent his store and he would be seen speakingly lovingly to an inanimate doll or laughing and patting a wooden bear on the head. Despite his beneficent intentions, people were creeped out. He was a master with the wood, but his execution was not for the general populace. It would take generations to realize that his creations required no strings, none at all. His brilliance laid in his ability to take the simple and raise it to a level of grandeur unparalleled in wood grinding until Seventh Veil opened on Sunset, many years in the future.

Peg’s Nooner BATCH 2: RareR DOS with Vanilla Beans, NOT SOME JANKY BLENDED BERLINER

April 12, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

So it has been what, four months since these hateful little growlers were filled and people are still slanging them like yellowtop vials up on the boards. Some people swear by these 16oz swingtops and, I guess for a beer like this, it really doesn’t matter: people will seek them out irregardlessly. So if I recall correctly, something like 120 of these were filled, 1 per person, but of course in the wild west Florida trading scene, people get scooping up multiples like a Craigslist Casual Encounter. Enough pageantry, let’s see if you wanna flick your vanilla bean after today’s review.

I have the fattest nooner right now

Peg’s Cantina & Brewpub
Florida, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This is somehow more lackluster and just looks dingier than the RareR variant and far less excited than the Regular ass Rare DOS. It has some minimal lacing, a tiny head, some gentle sheeting, but nothing too apeshit. There is a certain sloppiness to it that screams artisinal that a 50 barrel system just couldn’t pull off. Not sure if thats just QC lipstick on the base of a maltcock, but shit is sloppy in a fun way.

hot sticky synthetic vanilla on stout action

S: This, like the RareR is also all over the place and not exactly what you would expect. If you are thinking “Alright, Vanilla Dark Lord right?” fucking wrong. You remember how the RareR DOS had none of that super traditional rum aspect to the nose, well this iteration of vanilla is kinda more like Hostess saccharine sweet frosting. There’s obviously the whole entourage of coconut, vanilla, caramel coated mallowfoam, but they are really muted relative to this big powerful “vanilla” aspect that comes across more like fondant, or some kind of confectioner’s delight. I like this beer less than both of the previous iterations, I feel like they set the boost too high and the turbos are just spooling up and whipping cake batter.

T: This presents that same wonderful brownie batter, a sort of 4 Roses bourbon werther’s original sweetness to the treatment, but again the real star is this Coldstone Creamery asshole just dominating the flavor profile with all this vanilla goodness. This wouldn’t be offputting if the vanilla was amazing, or at least balanced. This just takes this NY Yankees “more is better” approach and ends up alienating people and getting hated on. Let me clarify, this is still an amazing beer, don’t think I am saying this is some Clown Shoes level shit. I am merely stating that what should be a modifier largely detracts from the whole experience. Some guys want a girl who can squirt, but if she starts gushing vanilla extract all over, you would probably be like “ok, that’s it, no more for me, I am gonna need that $300 back.”

Some people fall in love with this beer and go through crazy lengths to be with it

M: This is the same as the other ones, toeing that amazing line between thin ass offerings from Eclipse/Foothill/Central Waters, but straying away from the Hunas and Menacing ass Dark Lords of the world. Think along the lines of Parabola or a beefier Czar Jack. No I am not going to condescend and bring in the fucking casuals with some Ten Fidy or Old Rasputin references. This is for tickers flexing that iron, go to your offshelf pilates class this website isn’t for you.

D: Overall this is exceedingly drinkable, if you can get past the beetus nose and vanilla hammering away at your jawline. Like oh so many rare ass offerings, it’s really tough to recommend this 20% improvement if you are giving up BA Kopi or Birth of Tragedy type of stuff to land it. If it is a reasonable trade, absolutely seek this out. Otherwise wait until Doug has a family member pass away and he opens up his massive 7 barrel system*.

I am not saying they should have cancelled this batch, but maybe it was a bit rushed.

Narrative: The University of Connecticut had never seen a season like this, and a turnout of over 30% of the seats sold at a women’s basketball game was staggering to say the least. “You girls are really doing something here, I mean forget Title IX, you girls are almost running only 49% in the red this season…A UNIVERSITY RECORD!” their Coach Ms. Hammerstein boomed in the opulent, nearly unused locker room. The mannish young women nodded plaintively and Coach Hammerstein caught power forward Takesha Williams blush. “You got something to say Takesha?” the coach importuned aggressively. “Nah coach it’s just, I wasn’t supposted to say nothin’ it’s just…” the rest of the team shook their heads as Takesha winsomely revealed the huge secret of their success. “Ain’t nobody tryna watch no women’s basketball, I mean, sitting through all that to see 41 points scored, it’s painful,” the coach sat on a bench and tapped her foot nervously. “Coach, we been Beaning, beaning all semester, since preseason even-” Takesha, a hulking amazon of an athlete pulled out a small vial of raw sticky wet vanilla beans. Coach Hammerstein dropped her gaze to the hexagonal tiles. “You…you told me it was air freshener, they are gonna cancel our grant. Dozens of the UCONN fans will be DEVASTATED!” Coach Hammerstein boomed as each young woman revealed their sticky sacks of beans. It was unnatural, and a conceitless way to ensure victory, but women’s basketball was hardly watchable without them all straight poppin their beans.

* I do not wish harm on any of the Peg’s or Cycle Brewing Staff and I am sure the Will and Intestate laws of Florida would treat his heirs amiably.

Birrificio Le Baladin Xyauyù Fumé (Islay Whisky) – Xyuken, Shoryuken, BALADASKINPEROOKIN

April 10, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Well what ornate kinds of shit do we have going on in today’s review? Just another imported $50 500ml bottle NOTHING TO FUCKING SEE HERE. This is the legendary Xyauyu barleywine but one of the even more .RAR variants, aged in Islay Whisky barrels, so you know things are gonna get pretty peaty up in this bitch real quick. It came in a circle box, in a waxed bottle, you remove the wax and uh oh the princess is in another castle. A fucking cork. Not just a regular one either, a long deep cork that pounds way inside. When you finally open up this genie bottle, shit goes off the chain and you can see what those lazy ass italians are up to when they aren’t groping foreign women and pissing away the value of the Euro.

A barleywine, that is flat, that is corked, that is capped, that is waxed, that is in a circle box: Xyauyuception

Birrificio Le Baladin
Italy
English Barleywine | 14.00% ABV

A: The cork finally eases out and this 2008 beast is ready to go full throttle. Well not exactly, this beer is famous for being flatter than 10 year old Kate Upton, and having absolutely no gas to it. For some people, they just write this beer off as a “poor man’s” Utopias, but haters gonna Baladin I guess. I could give a fuck less about the lack of lacing or carb because look at that beast. It sheets harder than southern Reconstructionists, and is just as furious. If Kuhnhenn can release massive flat barleywines and everyone’s foreskin is all pulled back, why not the italians, renowned for their foreskin?

ONLY A TRUE BEER NERD CAN APPRECIATE THE COMPLEXITY OF THIS SITUATION

S: This is seriously 1) the most peat forward beer I have ever had and 2) easily one of the most complex. I am gonna pull apart this strata like a horny geologist so you can get all up in these layers. First the peat and barrel sets its feet firmly in the paint and starts screening out every other aspect. This is like Home Depot garden aisle with a bit of Costco tire aisle mixed in. There is a huge smoke and earthiness not unlike sulphuric oak and deep char rounding out the profile. When the wreckage is cleared, there is a terrified citizen in the bombed out peat building, smelling all like caramel, mallowfoam, toffee, butterscotch and peanut brittle. Shattered to the core.

T: This is incredibly smoke and peat forward and the entire first taste is akin to just straight up sipping straight up peaty Scotch. The dude from Islay dug peat samples from six locations across Scotland – three of which were peat bogs on Islay. A practice steeped in tradition, lends “a sense of place” to the whiskies of Islay, playing an important part in the mysterious chemistry of malt whisky. This shit is no exception and just unloads both barrels in your face with deep oak, smoke, peat, and intense whiskey profile. The peat aspect is incredibly earthy and totally unlike the rauch aspects that some people may be thinking of, the shit is like hardcore gardening, planting GLADIOLAS MOTHERFUCKER. The backend is this fantastic sweet caramel, Rolo and Sixlet candy, a sticky sweet caramel apple, with some dank ass Heath bar finishing the experience. Very strange and inviting, like that volunteer gym coach who wasn’t on the school payroll and would just show up at games.

If you buy a $50 beer before you lose your virginity, congratulations, you just reached beer nerd god tier. Enjoy being a eunuch.

If you buy a $50 beer before you lose your virginity, congratulations, you just reach beer nerd god tier. Enjoy being a eunuch.

M: This is hot, drying, and incredibly sticky at the same time. The entire experience is a clusterfuck of different elements going on. The oak and smoke take front seat and contribute this cloying cigarsmoke finish that leaves you feeling like you have drysocket, but then the sugars replace that feeling with deep cavities, shit is straight up occlusal real quick. Go ahead and Bing that word, I will wait.

D: This is an incredibly difficult aspect to address because it really isn’t drinkable in the classic sense. I mean, it is tough to want to hang out with a 14% abv asshole all the time without getting in mischief and soaking the entryway down, smashing goldfish crackers on the carpet and shit. But in a certain way, this brash overpowering jerk has a certain charm. It took me 90 minutes to finish this 16oz bottle, and I don’t have no pussy palate. I am not going to address that inherent euphemism. But on a long enough scale, this is enjoyable as something that could be savored as a rare treat, tugging it along gently, massaging your palate’s lower colon to push for deeper results. The experience is worth it. $50 worth it. Stop being a sweet dick and embrace the peat.

Maybe you think you are bad ass for drinking this, maybe you are just a raging pussy who cant even handle this power? Who knows.

Narrative: The baggage line at Moline/Quad Cities airport was really nothing to write home about, in the classic sense. It was a single carousel of lacluster luggage, largely from lamenting languishers, awaiting trips to Iowa or the 312. One bag had a special secret. Reggie Darwinson pulled the Samsonite equipage from the line and examined it at length. “Sir, you are gonna wanna see this-” Reggie radioed to his supervisor and massaged the cool wet exterior of the canvas bag. “What is it Reggie? Oh god what is that smell?” his superfisor fumed and examined the soggy sack, sticky and rancid, like a box of soaked cigars. They opened the bag and found a perfectly measured sack of fertilizer with Italian customers paperwork soaked in the muck and the mire. “Who would pay $50 just to send this? There is no baggage tag, just country of origin…Italy,” Reggie noted and pushed around the wet bog, discovering a series of obscure Italian chocolates in the muck. “I have never seen anything like this, sir…I am going to hang on to this,” Reegie stammered and wheeled the smoky mess home. He started at the luggage and wondered what would possess someone to do this, but it gave him a strange comfort to have it sitting there, in his shitty midwest apartment.

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

Category Archives: barrel aged