You guize forget Kopy Luwak this is most raer coffee stout super squid tones, ultra rarity
Binny’s so many emerald tones, but gata ask about the 3lokos in the back tho!!1!!
so much coffee add me on twatter!!!
Category Archives: barrel aged
Logsdon Farmhouse Ales Peche ‘n Brett, Get Ready to Get your Peaches Gripped
With everyone getting a fat throbbing alerection about this beer’s upcoming release, I figured I would let you know my impressions of this beer FROM BACK WHEN IT WAS MORE RARE AND THEREFORE MORE DELICIOUS. When this came out last year, people were still playing catchup and figuring out that this brewery bears a striking resemblance to a certain Vermont saison factory, but now that people know about how dank the regular old Saison Bretta is, I am sure this will be a shitshow which the PnW traders will administrate lovingly. I still can barely sit after that Cherry Adam from the Wood release. Let’s smash some peaches and stop fucking around.
The peach is there, but it doesn’t taste like any of the Bretts that I know, WAKKAWAKKAWAKKA
Logsdon Farmhouse Ales
Oregon, United States
American Wild Ale | 10.00% ABV
A: This is a messy old bottom of the carboy sort of affair. Smash up a bunch of saltines into a glass of Cable Car and you will be on point with how this looks. No one ever said saisons were beautiful, I SAID IT WOULD BE WORTH IT. The carbonation, as usual is excessive and goes hard in the paint, gushing all over my face and chest prior to payment. There is substantial lacing that appears wispy and then disappears forthright. The orange hues are inviting and make you bite your lip like reading Shades of Grey outside an elementary school.
what do you know about rare variant ticks? PEACHING IT LIKE A BOSS.
S: This has a fantastic dryness to it that gushes hay, musk, puppy fur, peaches, apricots, and a wet leather. The fruit is actually in the back spinning records, not trying to take over the show, just supporting, making everyone wet. Smells like if someone crashed a Fantome truck into the truck delivering Upright Fantasia, AND EVERYONE WINS.
T: This is incredibly dry in execution at the outset and you brace yourself for a brett bomb but at the last minute they cut the peach wire and your palate is saved. The fruit again is not the main character but it imparts a sort of unity to the beer what with all the musk, cornbread, biscuit malt, hay, juicy juice, and Greek peach yogurt. This doesn’t get to that Fantome Ete smoothie level, but it is toeing THE FUCKING LINE. Also, if you have had Hill Farmstead Mimosa, this is suspiciously close to execution in many ways. Maybe those two breweries are saison eskimo brothers, pounding the same bugs. I am not a scientist, ask Rempo.
This beer is sweet, gentle, and a little dirty at the same time.
M: This is dry but not offputting because there is enough fruit and residual sugars from making this a super chardonnay heavy affair, I AM LOOKING AT YOU HILL FARMSTEAD E. Enough buttressing this review with references to other beers, this is refreshing and offers the biggest sniper 10% abv this side of Fantome Extra sour, seriously it sneaks in that bitch and starts riot shielding people in the skull. If you want to get faded really quickly and not know what happened, this is the beer for it. You will pop Skyrim in and wake up smelling like maple syrup with your character power leveled. Shit is real tight.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and unless you go to FIDM or are a negligent ass undergrad, I don’t know who could put these back on the reg and function in life. I could chain combo 2 of these together, but then I would start bidding on Marvel Masterpiece cards on eBay and all kinds of tawdry shit so maybe this beer being hard to find is a good thing. MAYBE THE MARKET IS ACTUALLY HELPING ME.
I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THIS IS NOT A FRUITED SAISON
Narrative: “Most people think that the Brita water cleans the water but it actually adds sodium sulfates to the hyd-” Your mind begins to wander and you look at Keith in disbelief that he would talk about water purification for 4 miles of this 12 mile hike. “Yeah I get it, brita, bottled water, so did you see Celebrity Apprentice last week?” “What? no no man you’re missing it, man you are just focusing on the end product if you-” Well now you went and did it, another rant, another incline, you went and taunted the complex mind and now you must deal with his single note expression. It is like a genius with an extremely limited scope, and your hydrolysis knowledge is exponentially grown. he begins to grow on you, his affectations and the glint of his eyes when he explains the separation of nitrate sulfides, you are listening, if only superficially. “So it IS NOT REALLY THE REVERSE OSMOSIS AT ALL!” he exclaimed while you picked a wild peach and bit into the skin, embracing the wild knowledge being dropped on you. The amount of balls tripped would not be insubstantial.
Cigar City Double Barrel Marshall Zhukov, Beating Your Children After One Barrel Is Not Enough. DOUBLE IT.
Florida used to rustle everyone’s jimmies with cries of homerism and being a hype machine but lately I have not heard a peep out of people getting pissed at small bottle runs or inaccessible wales. Let us go back to 2010 when walez were in full swing and did not trade for offshelf bottles purchased at Binny’s. This is DOUBLE FUCKING BARREL ZHUKOV. They aged it in bourbon AND brandy barrels, so if you are an indecisive prick, you get two barrels. Oh also this was a bottle run of ~219 bottles, so you probably don’t get either barrel. So think about that shit before you open up that CTRL+SHIFT+N window and start stroking it to these pics.
If you are pissed at the lighting and want to get all Sean Van Taggen on me, go get your own bottle and bisect a bag of dicks.
Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States
Style | ABV
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.50% ABV
A: Truthfully, this looks pretty shitty. It pours out a bit thinner than Huna in execution and doesn’t leave much in the way of lacing, but that MIGHT BE BECAUSE IT IS AS FLAT AS NATALIE PORTMAN AFTER BIKRAM YOGA. There is zero bubbles, no suds, no foam, no laotian people rubbing me down. No Table Shower, no fun to speak of. This shit is Kikoman’s Finest Hour, and sits there all placid like a Presbytarian on her wedding night. Fucking boring, crack open some BIC pens, boom instant Double Zhukov. Next section.
This is familiar, yet, strangely disquieting. These sweatpants are coming off.
S: This smells dank as balls. There is a huge cherry and bourbon aspect but then that trickster brandy comes in with a sweet molasses meets mallow foam, like when your dick comes just a lil bit out of the hole in your boxers, not making itself completely known, but it is there. There is a sweet roast and char that reminds me of Darkness but the complexity of TWO BARRELS AT THE SAME DAMN TIME
I know I already posted this video. Allocating Fucks to be Given….processing….
ZERO RESULTS FOUND.
T: This tastes fucking amazing and reminds me if Bourbon Huna fucked Apple Brandy Huna, sticky black ink scissoring my timbers. You get chocolate, cocoa, sticky werther’s original and this black cherry finish to it like 4th of July BBQs. The sweetness in the end lingers like licking the brownie batter bowl, your creepy uncle just sits, watching you get your face all up in that stout bowl.
I def recommend this bottle, if you land it 3 years after release, mad props bro
M: This is thick as to be expected from MZ, but it somehow is THINNER, like when Foothill pulls its magic trick and makes Sexual Chocolate thinner after its “barrel aging” for 1 trimester. I like it though, Huna has its own thing going on and this is more of a Foo Fighter to the intense Nirvana residual sugars present in Huna. This is more approachable and takes the sheeting slow, no diggity, you gotta bag it up.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable FOR THE WRONG REASONS. This is delicious yes, but the complete lack of carbonation makes this almost more like a baller ass Cabernet than a world class stout. You have to take bigger gulps to get that fulfillment. No entendre, there’s been enough for one review. I would recommend this certainly, but if you had your balls in a vice grip and had to choose, I would pick Bourbon Huna, but that is a pretty fucking strange scenario for your testicles.
Land a massive wale and complain about it. Do it for the lulz
Narrative: The 7th grade dance was going swimmingly, Boyz II men was spinning with luster and the boys and girls were partitioned with natural precision. It seemed like a traditional affair, girls and boys alike rife with insecurity, until Daniel Chambers entered the mediocre gym with the pre-teen swagger only an awkward lack of pubescence could produce. He was overly sweet with a miller’s outpost shirt that boasted a screen printed witticism that would make Voltaire blush. The Tony Rich project comes on and he walks through a group of knock kneed pre-women a solid 6 inches taller than him. It was not inconsequential that with his overriding sweetness, Daniel delivered backhanded insults to each of the already completely insecure girls, imparting a tart finish that was both forgotten immediately but left them wanting more. He deserved all his misfortunes, for he was a product of a botched marriage and wrought his vengeance upon the student body. As his swan song he slammed into a small filipino girl during basket case and was delivered resounding accords.
Ithaca Brewing Company, Le Bleu, For Beer Drinkers Who Desire Bleu -BALs
Happy New Years eve. No one is reading this shit because they are all out at Forever 21 buying stupid sequin dresses or racks and racks of InBev products to usher in a January of broken resolutions and 11 months of self medicating by pushing lasagna into their gullets. Don’t worry, I will be here for you. Today’s review is of the elusive LeBlue from Ithaca up in New York.
My berries are tingling. I bet yours are too, don’t lie.
Ithaca Beer Company
New York, United States
American Wild Ale | 5.40% ABV
A: The appearance of this beer leans toward the goozey with a dull radiance and some wispy carbonation that peaces out like when parents roll up to a Mormon dance. There is a pencil lead crackle to this and no real lacing to speak of, but the old AWA was never the bulwark of foamy excesses, go to Saisonland if you want that ride. My saddle is waiting, ride it, jump on it.
RareBrew I choose you! Over learning a foreign language, meeting women, or taking up cycling.
S: This doesn’t put that fruit foot forward, and I dare say I am not receiving Fruit by the Foot or any unit of measurement. My experience has usually been that those gentle blueberry skins and juice profile largely get wiped out by more lactic base beers or they dominate shitty wheat profiles like SeaDog and Wachussett This shit or this jammy jammer or even this elusive berry stomper. This is no exception and the lactic profile kinda has the dominating lactic profile that Cascade sometimes pushes onto its addicts, but in a more refined manner. You get a light berry profile, but it is buttressed by acidic balustrades and not unlike the Medici era paintings, it is difficult to all take in at one time. I would like some more fruit, but I also want a substantial sour punch to it, and this execution favors the latter at the expense of the former. Everybody’s nips be still all blasting though, halfmast with anticipation.
T: This further confirms my prior suspicions and essentially presents itself as almost lambicesque in execution with light fruiting in the aromatics and in the finish. You get lemon pulp, grapefruit dryness, a ripe tangelo with oakiness maintaining the oeuvre. Finally, at the close of the third act, blueberry sheepishly walks in and ties everything together with some flavors that seem natural and gentle not like that “OOPS ALL BERRIES” sort of synthetic adjunct bullshit that other breweries (Hey, Shipyard, listen closely) USE THAT EVERYONE FUCKING HATES. I don’t want a shot of torani into a janky lager, I want real fucking berries. I know because I made a shitty bleuberry lambic and forced it on my friends, much to their chagrin. I have seen some shit in the produce aisle.
Target market for limited releases: neckbeard beta beer fan
M: This is dry but doesn’t start tearing at my gumline, it has the AWA presence that gives a balance to the acidity with the yeast chewiness to add a layer of depth beyond just loose butthole palate scorching that some lactic lambics set forth. It is better as a result. That being said, don’t expect that blueberries to save you, you will need a glass of water with this otherwise cankersores are forthcoming. Not HSV, CANKERsores, you assholes.
D: This is very drinkable if it is the only thing that you are setting out to drink on a balmy evening. I mean that this will accomplish two things if you attempt to mix and match other beers with it: 1) your palate will be pretty fatigued after this and your bitter/sweet zones will be taxed harder than Scandinavian prostitutes. 2) this is pretty dry and you will likely grind your bicuspids and swallow a good portion of the inside of your face as a result. If the flavor profile is worth it to you, or if you are doing a lame 19 person tasting where you have .8 oz of it to brag to your other beer friends who really don’t give a fuck about your untappd account or your janky ass tumblr account, because seriously, why would they want to read that shit- wait, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, this is good in moderation or as the only beer, given its dominating profile.
That sour berry finish, I feels it
Narrative: Dexter Natbony reclined in his supple calfskin office chair and looked upon the 14 monitor display at the YouTube videos cascading in, faster than he could even count. “This is sweet and yet so bitter at the same time, I LOVE IT!” Dexter exclaimed and popped a berry into his mouth. He was the mastermind behind a secret private interest coalition to ensure the lowering of teenager self esteem across the United States. This initiative was backed by Olay, Kraft, Tony Horton, and Neutrogena, among others. Dexter’s newest brainchild was to upload a torrent of “AM I PRETTY?” videos to Youtube, and watch the backlash from users and copycats alike. The posters were sweet in demeanor and usually sought some kinda of validation for their shitty lack of depth and hormonal imbalances. The balance of the sweet was kept in check by bitter comments from other insecure people, pushing the flotsam levels to critical acrimonious depths. “IT IS FOOLPROOF, these girls will hate themselves and in turn hate on one another,” Dexter quipped to his hairless Sphinx cat while savoring a tart smoothie. It was this balance of sweet and bitter that allowed cockmouthed corporations to control insecure individuals, keep them oppressed, bitter, and longing for the sweetness delivered in simplistic RomCom plots. For only with the promise of sweet, could the bitter be tolerated to this degree.
NEW VEDEO REVIEW ALPEINE NALSON (DOUBLE) CREAM IDEA!! SO RAER.
120 growlars only sold at Beinnys thogh. Randal donate by my stepdad, I HAET HIM THOUGH.
Chek it out on this webspace!!!!
NEW VEDEO REVIEW!!! Barrel Aged Four Calling Bird FORM THE BURERY!
Here it is you guys, the barrel aged on, had to join a speciale club to get these one. SO MANY DOLLARS BUT IS SO WORTH IT!!!1!!
NEW VEDEO REVIEW! Boulevarde Sixth Glass Quadruple Ale, SO MANY ENZYMES, UPTOB SINCLAIRE!!
So many people post Westy 12 Revuews but not enough other QUAEDS! so hears one, FROM BOULEVARDE!
So MANY ENZIMES! Do you evan quadruple bro?
Drie Fonteinen Framboos, I Was Saying Boos-Urns
Man, saison marathon ends, then I post a couple 5/5 stellar video beer reviews over the weekend and the site becomes a hotbed for controversy. Let’s get things back on track in today’s review of 3F Framboos, AKA THE BIG BOO, aka the BOOZER, slaying white walez on the reg. On another note, since this was brewed again, it is now in some top 100 lists, so there is also that. Poppopopop watcing sea mammals drop.
If you are too busy and cant fit time in to eat fruit AND drink beer, 2 birds, 1 stone.
Brouwerij Drie Fonteinen
Belgium
Lambic – Fruit | 5.00% ABV
A: Look at that juicy lil wine cooler, posted up looking like a Lisa Frank binder with all the fuchsia foam and pink hues. Make me want to put tassles on my lil ladybike and stroll with a carnation in my hair. The lacing is minimal and the carbonation was as to be expect, namely cray. The whole affair is legit and even Chief Keef would agree that ladies love 1) Sosa and 2) rare raspberry lambics.
The things you have to go through to get this beer, painful, horrible things.
S: This is hands down the best part of this beer, it smells like freshly unrolled fruit by the foot, the inside goo within Gushers, a spring pastoral farmers market, sweet honeysuckle, hyacinth, and smashed ass raspberries. If you cant taste this beer, trade for an empty bottle and you just won half of the game AND KEPT YOUR ANUS AT ITS CURRENT DIAMETER.
T: This is fantastically refreshing and opens with a juicy profile and dry tannic raspberry skins, the puckering aspects have a great interplay with the lactic acidity from the base beer and the lingering produce meets tartness is just the refreshing beverage that you need after enrolling your kids in military school or pushing your stepmom down a flight of stairs, you know, supes refreeesh.
This sounds like an excellent idea.
M: This is drying but not like chardonnay aspects, more of a “I just ate way too many dried fruits” sort of manner. You get this acidity but those elements are kept in check by a sweet profile from the fresh juice; sweet yet hateful like a Korean housewife.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the fruit profile quells all that guilt in your heart because you can tell yourself that it TECHNICALLY is fruit and you TECHNICALLY don’t need to go to those Court ordered AA classes, because TECHNICALLY you are a beer connoisseur and TECHNICALLY it isn’t alcoholism if you spent a lot on the bottle and call it a hobby. But srs, this is a legit beer, the only problem is that raspberry is one of the comparably “easier” styles to execute with similar results. This is unquestionably one of the best framboise that I have ever had, but at the same time Framboise de Amarosa is also very good and I would make a coherent argument that FFaC and Rose de Gambrius could toe precariously close to these levels. It just depends on if you are that type of asshole who rolls up in an Aventador and looks down upon the dude in a Gallardo. fruitbullwalez.
This is a baller ass beer for tickers with elevators up in their crib.
Narrative: The brakes of the Nissan Altima locked up and the affordable yet spacious sedan slid through the pink muck into a Mitsubishi Gallant, an equally spacious albeit less reliable midsized sedan. “What in the, COME ON!” Judy Temperton exclaimed and she got out of her car. Her white Keds slipped on the uneven goop and the air was redolent with raspberry juice. The entire I-85 was littered with crates and crates of fresh raspberries, each broken open and mangled into a deep ruby paste on the road. Red asphalt, indeed. Maria Krupky jumped out of her car and surveyed the damage. Both parties had incredibly high deductibles and, what GEICO representative would take pity on a raspberry induced accident. The two women shook their heads balefully and walked to the front of the overturned fruit truck. The smell of diesel fuel and fresh fruit almost choked them in turn. Just past the truck the women would see the cause of the accident: a completely murdered out flat black Bentley Arnage spun headfirst into a ditch. A middle aged man in a Tommy Bahama shirt was clutching frantically at his iPhone 5S with the unlimited data plan. The pangs of the idle rich made all too apparent. His bluetooth fell into a puddle of raspberry juice and he sobbed quietly, the juice mixing into his open cuts. If anything, it was hard to pity something so opulent in appointment, the teeming thirsty masses would never know that life. No, the Diamantes and Altimas would content themselves with car accidents and the taste of regular raspberries, as is the way of things.
Logsdon Seizoen Bretta, SAISON MARATHON IS FINALLY OVER. Also this saison is super dank.
You guize, I didn’t die, and saison marathon is finally over. Closing out like a boss with an amazing PnW saison that people have been jocking harder than Starter Jackets in the 90s.
Looks like orange juicy juice, cream on the inside clean on the outside.
Doubling down on the pics to close out saison marathon
Logsdon Farmhouse Ales
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV
A: Just look at that turbid milky mess of saison. The wheat is poppin like cheeks at Magic City and makes me wanna pop bands and sprinkle bills all over it. The carbonation is downright hilarious. I ordered this at Little Bear and the bottle gushed so hard it made the server look like he was pulling off some Urkel shit. The lacing is substantial but somehow looks clean at the same time. Filthy yet desirable, Sasha Grey level saison maneuver.
After a full month in the weeds, time to celebrate…with a saison.
God damnit.
S: There is a huge dryness to this and the brett profile is more pronounced than a non-regional dialect. You get lemon rind, puppy breath, grapefruit juice, the musk of cookie dough without the sugary sweetness, and finally some pineapple aspects on the closer. If you cannot land Fantome Ete, this is about the closest thing I can approximate that beer to.
T: This is incredibly musky and earthy and almost has a sort of mushroom and Jazz apple interplay going on. There is the classic belgian yeast strain, white pepper in the middle body, and this dry execution like pear skin that is more legit than Trinidad James. This doesn’t go overboard on any aspect because the musk is ratcheted back enough to give the tart aspects enough stage time. This is something I imagine the elementary school grounds keeper drinking after a long day of mowing down crabgrass, earthy and bitter with a tinge of tart hope for the future. Excellent and profound like a Soulja Boy album.
I was gonna try and tie this picture in to the review, but it is a god damn baby kangaroo. Joey so hard.
M: This is dry but like I noted, that musk adds a complexity that just wipes out your bitter zones and daisy chains it to make you want to take another sip. The brett with the substantial wheat body has this one two punch that if either aspect was ratcheted back, would be imbalanced. You remember how Garbage Pail Kids cards were dirty but at the same time refreshing and intruiging, that is kinda how this beer is because you know it is messy, but you secretly like all the soil smashed in your hair and your skin all dried out. You nasty.
D: This is one of the most drinkable saisons, it is all over shelves, it has an amazing price point, and delivers every time without that Russian Roulette of Belgian bottles. I highly recommend showing this to someone who doesn’t know dick about saisons, show them your dick, I mean, the beer. Damnit. This has the aspects of other baller/expensive saisons and glimpses the tiers of greatness like Tintoretto, but fails to hit that farmhouse perfection like Titian exemplars HF, Fantome, etc, all the other breweries whose jocks I ride like a sybian.
My face when I completed an entire month of drinking the best saisons in the world.
Narrative: James Kurtz pounded each step in rhythmic pain, exhaling a cloud of mist through his strained lungs. It had been an aggressive 26 miles but he had now entered the final stretch and an Oregon morning had never seemed so crisp. He crossed the finish line and walked with an antalgic gait to a pile of leaves and laid down to stretch. He swallowed deep from the cup of lemonade and looked up to the sky, watching the nimbus ornaments drape their alabaster fingers across the sky. It had been a battle the entire way, but he had finally done it: HE RAN AN ENTIRE MARATHON COMPLETELY DRUNK. James pulled off his Camelpak and took a final pull of the saison bladder in his backpack. His physician told him that drinking 8% beer while dehydrating himself was a suicide mission, but he pressed on. Some complained that he reeked of alcohol and wheatgrass, but his pores were a testament to his achievement. With a gentle repose, James laid in the grass and inhaled deeply. Saison marathon had finally been completed.
YOU GUIZE CRAFT BEER HISTORY HAS BEEN MAED TODAY
In case you didn’t know, there are currently 2,751 breweries operating and slanging beer on traps and blocks in the United States. This is more than all of the U.S. Breweries back in 1887 COMBINED. A lot of people have rock hard alerections when they hear this statistic and use the figure to point how CRAFT IS BETTER AND LOOK AT HOW FAR WE HAVE COME. The only problem is, think of your local breweries, all of them, not just the baller ass ones, how many of them are turning out things you are excited to drink. I have been to towns where there are a shitload of breweries that roll out the same tired ass kolsch/hef/amber/pale 4 punch all day long and it makes me wonder who told these dudes “hey, you seriously need to open a brewery, there are not enough places doing exactly what you are doing and running in the red right now, take your predictable ass Wyeast beers and pair them with some janky ass pizza, this is an excellent idea.”
MOAR BEER MAKERS IS MORE BETTER
I could care less how MANY breweries there are, I would rather hear about how many breweries there are that are actually 1) exceptionally good and 2) innovative. If you don’t have the first part, you don’t get to do the second, Rogue. In San Diego every asshole who can boil extract in a pot thinks he is God’s gift to enzymes and that is just one of many places where assholes reside. What ends up happening is 1) market clutter and 2) non-beer people drink a lot of lackluster offerings and think that’s what you do in the basement all night.
I guess having more options is good, but I have never walked into the 98 cent store and been stoked to see another Shasta variant of Mountain Mist, because I am not a poor needledick who drinks pedestrian offerings. The worst is when a brewery sees that everyone and their autistic half cousin is brewing so they come up with some “Lavender, chapstick, canola oil, hibiscus, pink peppercorn Dortmunder aged on retired marine vessel wood” to try and wow people inside their doors. These beers usually taste like the inside of a nutsack and then I have to deal with regular people’s tired ass allegories about “THIS ONE TIME IN BILLINGS MONTANA I TRIED A DERP SKERP ALE, IT WAS HORRIBLE, THAT IS WHAT YOU LIKE.” All of a sudden I am justifying liking the taste of testicles.
My face when I see another new brewery super stoked about their amber ale
Less mediocre breweries, less shitty beer, or the opposite. I don’t know, I failed Algebra and I eat Totino’s Pizza rolls on the reg.
dontdrinkbeer 