Category Archives: barrel aged

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Block 15 Ferme De La Ville Provision, Two Saisons Might be Too Much Love for the PnW, but it is warranted

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SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS PACIFIC NORTH WEST SAISONS.

California simply does not do things like this. I love the Bruery but Saison Rue doesn’t fall within the same realm as this incredibly refreshing banger that slams beats by the pound. Saisons with a nice musk to them are already so deep within my wheelhouse that I have to move other wheels to…access…those wheels. Anyway, I wasn’t set on reviewing this beer since I already hollered at the PnW in my Fremont Brewing Lamb review, but this is too damn good not to review. I have loved everything that Block 15 makes and who can forget my old review of Block 15 Imagine Anyway, I guess saison week is gonna keep on rolling, file your complaints in the top right corner.

Oh snap, my block is turning into a Ferme 15.

Block 15 Brewery/Restaurant
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.90% ABV

A: The appearance is a bit thinner than I am accustomed to with a deep gold aspect to it like this bad ass locket I bought from Target for my 6th grade girlfriend. I mean, my girlfriend in 6th grade, I…I am not hooking up with 12 year olds. The lacing is minimal and looks soapy and clean. The carbonation is straight up Goldilocks status, not too much, not too little. I must fault it for not having that ugly turbid aspect that Fantome and Hill Farmstizzle generates but, to each his own I suppose.

Please tell my cellar, I am a saison lover.

S: This beer has a delicious grape and pear tart aspect to it, deep chardonnay, ripe melon, and a musky baseball card sort of aspect to it. It would be like if someone that was hella into Crossfit was also into produce a huge nerd. Oh wait, REDUNDANT DEFINITIONS.

T: This is incredibly crisp and reminds me of a “less dry” version of E. If Hill Farmstead E. was the Sahara Desert, this is somewhere like oh, Barstow. There is a light sweetness at the outset and conveys a light honey and chardonnay white grape that finishes with a crisp fjui apple skin aspect to it. The whole beer is as refreshing as a John Stamos movie but as fulfilling as a Jesse and the Rippers album.

This beer is incredibly drinkable, it will get you exploring things.

M: Again, this is incredibly dry, but toes the precipice of lambic and super chardonnay and ratchets it back before it spills over the edge. It gives with a light honey aspect but after you swallow, the barrel and grape come back to linger and remind you of brut champagne or some baller ass Bartels and James. If you have a discerning ass mid-30’s woman to impress, or a particularly classy 14 year old to court, this will do the trick just fine.

D: This picks up the ball where E. fumbles and delivers a light fruit and gentle brett aspect to it that balances out the incredible dryness of the chardonnay. Ultimately, the entire beer comes together in a remarkable way that reminds me less of a traditional saison and starts to toe the line to a straight up American Wild Ale along the lines of Brute or Sanctification. Some people can’t get on board with this because it is too dry but those saison haters and exit stage left, everything they need in a box to the left. Those are also the types of people posting “Horses and Bayonets” and “Binders Full of Women” shit and feeling relevant so I don’t concern myself with them.

This beer is like a merger of familiar old things and enticing new things.

Narrative: “His resume was just so impressive, quadlingual, volunteer in Burma, summa cum laude from Vassar…” “Yeah summa cum garbage, he has the worst people skills I have ever seen, how is he going to sell anything? He’s just so…abrasive.” It wasn’t Dan Mikelson’s demeanor that was offputting, in fact he was attractive to the untrained person. He would even seem exotic and interesting, until he opened his mouth and began talking about Jimmy Johnson’s points in the Nextel cup. Most customers would sigh and move lithely from the digital camera section until he followed them intentionally into the digital printers section, and continue to harangue them with tales of last years bocce ball tournament. “Look at that, that canadian couple just requested an item outright and he convinced them that they werent going to use it to its full potential, I dont care how attractive he is, you gotta fire this guy.” “But sir…think about if someone get’s hurt his resume says he is a registered RN and” “I dont care, his resume is a lie, he is a jerk and I want him OUT OF MY OFFICE DEPOT?! YOU HEAR ME?!”

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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.

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Rogue White Whale Ale, A Beer Brewed with a Copy of Moby Dick in the Brewkettle

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I am not shitting you:

A reading from the book of Hyperonomy.

Rogue White Whale Ale, brewed with Moby Dick, just released in bottles

As though their last foray into Maple Bacon Burned Down Planned Parenthoods was not enough, now they are putting printed paper into the brew kettle to drum up hype. I get it, whales are a trope of the trading and ticking culture. There are tan whales, taupe walez, white wales, and even midwestshelfwalez. At the heart of all wales is usually 1) rarity 2) taste 3) bottle counts or 4) inaccessability. This beer takes a regular beer, adds recycled paper with ink on it and therefore destroys #2.

It is made by Rogue so we know that item #1 is out by default. If you are shipping to BevMo, you can expect n00bsexual traders to offer this up looking for BA Batch 9000 and shit. What about bottle counts? Well this is available online, so let’s just guess upwards of 30,000 bottles. So item #3 is out. On that same point, if you can sit back and order it ONLINE and have it delivered to your house, unless that box says “Etre Gourmet” or “Cascade” on it, it likely won’t be a white wale. This parade of dumb ass adjuncts seems to be the new rage either in this form, or by fruiting base beers that taste like shit to pass them on to an unsuspecting beer nerd populace.

THIS IS NOT A WALE. Giving it pieces of paper will not make it a WHALE

Look forward to your uninitiated normal friends to buy you this garbage and then you have to nod thoughtfully and thank them for their pointed gift. Call me Bitchmale.

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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.

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TIRED HANDS CAGE MATCH: Singel Hop Nelson vs. Farmhands – Two Saisons Enter, ONLY ONE LEAVES

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I have enjoyed the marketing, branding, products and general panache set forth by Tired Hands Brewing Company. They set forth an extremely high quality product, laid out a groundwork of not only delicious beers but also a solid framework of innovation as well. The beers and marketing structure reminds me of another certain saison master out of VERMONT , but I will defer on that topic for the time being. Their galaxy hopped gose, GHOST, is a perfect example of it. Instead of trying to determine which saison to review from these saison ballers, I will treat you to an old fashioned CAGE MATCH. There will be only one survivor left to rule the farmhouse.

Here are the contenders:

For the visually impaired, this is the Singel Hop Nelson

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 5.00% ABV

I forget what was going on, I forget a lot of things when I drink this much saison. I can’t be expected to be responsible for all of Nana’s medication all the time.

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 5.00% ABV

Appearance:

Nelson: This isn’t a particularly beautiful saison at the outset, the carbonation is pretty tame by the outrageous saison standards that we have seen this week, but it is far from deficient. It has a sort of dull shine to it like a yellow/orange shirt that has been washed with some towels. The lacing is pretty and makes some wispy lil ghosts on the glass.

Farmhands: This looks very similar to Nelson, no fucking shit, right? I enjoyed this a bit more though because it had less of wateriness to it and came across as a bit more creamy in execution. It was the same type of growler, shipping, and conditions so this should be pretty fucking equal but this one is clearly more attractive. Feel me.

WINRAR: Farmhands OG.

Both beers come from a proud lineage.

Smell:

Nelson: This should be obvious, but it is overwhelminly Nelson hops. I drank this beer 4 days after it was growlered and it was still raging with a lemon, tangerine, light pine, and a faint bandaid aspect to it. I usually am not a fan of single hop variants using all Nelson, that Stone Best By was a completely bag of melted plastic. This is quite the exception. At the backend is a bad ass grassiness that supports and compliments the lemon scone aspects going on.

Farmhands: This takes a more traditional approach and I feel is better as a result because you can actually apprehend some of the nuances. In the Nelson it is hop onslaught, in this version you get some light honey, grassiness, a gentle spice, and some lemon peel. This just comes across as a more developed beer for anyone who isn’t a stupid ass Oracle chugging hophead who just discovered beer.

WINRAR: Farmhands OG.

Taste:

Nelson: The outset has a sharp sweet and almost tart aspect to it that I absolutely love in light watery saisons. The malts are almost imperceptible due to the fact that a huge grassiness moves in and leaves an aggressive bittering aspect. Haters may hate due to the hop profile pulling it off style, but fuck it, this is flat out refreshing and delicious.

Farmhands: This is more traditional and stays closer to style with a cornbread and wheat profile that lingers with a faint lemon but, for the same reason that New Glarus saison was kinda janky, this is more boring in execution. This is by no means bad, but the Nelson version just takes more risks and I end up liking it more.

WINRAR: The Nelson.

Two draft only saisons? 4 fucking liters? surfs up bro, getting so pitted.

Mouthfeel:

Nelson: This initially has a sweet honey stickiness to it but the hops are so over the top that all other nuances are completely choked out like Will Smith’s dog in I am Legend. As a result this is almost medicinal after the first pint because the pints seriously just do work on your cage, steady grassy hadookens right into your chest. I can’t hang with this kind of alpha acid abuse.

Farmhands: The farmhands has a creamier mouthfeel and a gentle sort of lemon acidity to it, but it again doesn’t blow me away with something I can tell my ungrateful ass grandkids about. I enjoy the light crisp finish of the Nelson version more, it feels like they added water to it and kept the abv, which doesn’t make sense TO SCIENCE, but I don’t care, sometimes I like those cones in my facehole.

WINRAR: Nelson version.

Drinkability:

Nelson: This would be super high on the D scale if it wasn’t so. god. damn. hoppy. some people will have a fat cone boner and love this beer for that reason but I seriously challenge them to take down a full 2 liter by themselves like I did. Shit goes from fun to a full on drying chore. Your mouth ends up feeling like an incense show and smelling like Lillith Fair.

Farmhands: This is far easier to drink and doesn’t have a huge liability sack of dryness and resin in tow. I enjoyed the sweet meets acidic aspects to the Farmhands with the light grassy finish instead of subjecting my mouth to fucking Bath and Body works for 2 full liters, wait, make that 4 full liters. I am a champion.

WINRAR: Farmhands OG.

TOTAL WINRAR: Farmhands Saison is the more delicious making beer. Nelson is still legit but feels more like a hybrid trying to bang two styles at once, which at a party, never works out and it goes home alone.

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Hill Farmstead Ann, …………………Her.

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THE SAISON MARATHON HAS BEGUN, GOD HELP US ALL.

This is the infamous wine barrel aged saison that I have received no fewer than 4058230985 requests to review. As the grand opening to the saison marathon, I will finally review not only the highest rated saison in the world, but also one of the best beers that I have ever had in my entire beer drinking life. For the uninitiated, this has been heralded as a revelation for the saison style and is an exemplary demonstration of the raw talent seeping out of Hill Farmstead like open prodigious sores. This was a 180 bottle, 1 per person release and if that alone was not enough, shockingly, no one wanted to trade a beer that is damn near perfect. No amount of Daisy Cutter would make it happen. Let’s approach perfection in today’s inherently flawed review.

Let’s get these jokes out of the way: mayonegg, way to place Ann, her? bland, egg, ann hog, is she funny or something? etc.

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.50% ABV

A: This is almost dead on to the style and presents a milky yellow discountenance with incredibly fine microbubbles that present a huge amount of cling. The carbo looks like tiny beds of golden Roe and lace the glass for almost an instant before crackling away. Ann is turbid and has a sort of watery golden hay look to the body with eggshell white bubbles. The bottle gushed a bit upon opening, but that happened with Norma as well and she was damn near perfect as well so, hard to really fault it on that front. A very beautiful beer, and while not at radiant as say, Ithaca Brute, it has this dirty radioactive property to it, just how you like your women.

Respect Ann.

S: This is incredibly complex and I took my time to let this open up to its full bouquet. If you drink this cold, you are 1) an asshole and 2) doing the saison world a disseervice. I would heartily recommend that you let this breathe up to the low 60’s, and it will offer up a deep upside down Spoderman kiss of honey, lightly lactic lemon zest, a faint wheat profile, a gentle amount of funk like sorting through old Marvel trading cards, and finally closes with a fantastic white grape element. At the outset, this beer strays dangerously far from the typical non-BA saison genre, but is better for it. If the outstretched hand from saison to AWA makes you uncomfortable, go drink a Sanctification and think about what could have been, ain’t no one asking you to the Beer Sadie Hawkins Dance anyway.

T: This is lightly tart at the outset with ripe canteloupe and lemon notes that leave a bit of a drying aspect, this gives way to the malt profile which is creamy and reminds me of a fresh grands biscuits, albeit with honey and light pear up in the mix, if that wasn’t enough, the final sharp chardonnay aspect comes in and starts power sanding down the bitter zones with a sand blaster. The crisp finish makes your palate all pissed and wanting another hit of that sweet saison methadone.

After Ann, whenever someone tries to offer me any other beer, I be like-

M: This imparts a huge white grape and pear skin note that is a bit creamy and brackish almost at the same time, which might be confusing for those who don’t have their sea legs in saison/american wild ale territory, notwithstanding, it is beyond excellent in this respect. The mouthfeel has a milky froth that immediately subsides into a drying chardonnay aspect. Like so many gilded age politicians, it gives and takes away with the same hand and your native american tastebuds are left reeling in its wake: discontent and wanting more.

D: This beer effectively will ruin not only the saison genre at large for you due to its complexity, but it will also in a lesser way ruin beer in general for you. It is kinda like how hooking up with 16 year olds is illegal because it makes hooking up too easy and denatures the value of making out in general. Landing this beer is so hard because it is a cautionary tale as to how drinkable and good beer can be at its apex. This doesn’t present a decadent profile like some complex gueuze or imperial stouts, but it imparts a staggering amount of drinkability and just outright uplifting citrus notes. The abv is not only perfectly masked, it comes across as though this beer is actually somehow good for you. The panacea effect is substantial with a beer that is this approachable. You could give this to a teething infant and it would recognize it as a potent elixir, HP/MP fully restored like staying at an inn. I cannot say enough good things about this beer. It is unquestionably the best saison that I have ever had and amongst the beers that I have ever had.

This is how people usually look when they find out that you drank Ann without them.

Narrative: Ann Portinari has served as a seraphim figure for brewers and beer traders in general. Those tedious days of spraying out tanks and cleaning up spent grain were a silent appeal to power. There is a divine undercurrent to manipulating the properties of life, casting away life sustaining wheat to generate even simpler cultures, using them for an ontological purpose. It is in this fashion that each batch is a silent prayer to Ann, an appeal to immortality in a manner that only Herbert Spencer can truly identify. So much beer has been cast through livers and into drains in flailing attempts at benediction or salvation. Ann drapes her wings lovingly over those drunk assholes on a nightly basis, fumbling through their phones to text ex-girlfriends, she is life giver and destroyer. Some would opine that in malt liquors her presence is not felt. Why when Molson needed her most were there only one set of footprints in the mash? It was during those times that the sweet muse carried them. Ann was an overseer of more than beverages, for in alcoholic drinks, man seeks to abrogate reason and become a god by mashing out on 2 full samplers at Denny’s. No dick pic has been sent without her careful intervention and oversight. In brewing parlance, when one has sparged and sparged in endless toil, she lifts one up to beatific perfection, making all other endeavors seems trivial by contrast. In this respect she is both instructive and destructive, sure that cab is $42, but what are you going to do? Leave your car here and then pick it up before streetsweeping at 7 am? Fuck that, Ann has wrapped her golden shroud around you, do sick burnouts and show the world your value.

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GABF Gold Medal Winning Church Brew Works Heini’s Hooch, Draft Only Gold Review, for the Haters.

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Alright so I have seen this listed in a variety of ways but I am going to straight up call this what it is: an old ale. Beer sites be all confused but having had it, it steps directly in line with Cuir and 2010 BA Decadence in that proud lineage. I saw this win the Gold at the GABF in a style that I feel is wildly underrated. Most people love stouts and will have a soft spot for BA English Barleywines and foolishly overlook the Old Ale genre, you need to get on this grizzy.

This is that straight up clear growler magic. Malts telling the world that they dare light to try and skunk them. Posting up so hard.

Church Brew Works
Pennsylvania, United States
American Strong Ale | 10.50% ABV

A: Well it is safe to say that this beer will not be winning any beauty contests, but come on, if you were made in a lab with a ton of dark caramel malts, boiled into a sticky medium, then put in a barrel for months, would you be so fucking handsome? I didn’t think so. It had moderate lacing and low carbonation but part of that is Fedex’s fault for leaking this all over the place. Negligent ass handlers. In fact, I had to drive all the way into East LA and go to the facility and tell them that this was a Balsamic Reduction because they were tragically going to throw this away. Jeez louise. The murky brown notes are dirty but inviting like a 1989 Ford Probe.

It is always unacceptable to taunt your friends for drinking Old Ales. Dortmunders yes, but never old ales.

S: Holy sweet decadence, this beer goes ham on the olfactory front and leads with a pinch of light char, some caramel, toastiness woodiness, a deep bourbon character similar to Eagle Rare or 4 Roses, if you are into that shit. There is also a light mallow foam and a vanilla on the backend, ya feel me?

T: This has a nice oaky opening that gives way to some sweet and sticky notes, light caramel wrapped in a sort of almond nuttiness. The finish lingers for a long time with a deep fig and booziness that is a bit hot on the palate but not overly ethanol up in this bitch. Maybe it is the carb lacking, but it seems like such a gentle beast like Pete’s Dragon, roasting apples for you and shit, boozy and yet tame.

Sipping on that high ave smoky oak gets you straight baked.

M: This is sticky but gives way to a lingering dryness from the booze and the oak so it gives with one hand and takes with the other, like a skilled escort, badumtish. The dryness from the oak imparts this desire to take another sip right away so this 2 Liter was merked pretty quickly NOT JUST BY ME THIS TIME THOUGH. I enjoy the sticky sweetness that is kept in check by a domineering ass patriarch figure that is the wood, euphemisms all over the place.

D: This is strangely drinkable with a big caveat, FOR THE STYLE. I mean if you pop this open at a cookout and expect a bunch of backslapping and people chugging it in a bounce house, you are in for disappointment. And diarrhea. This is a nice sipper but you can sip A LOT OF IT. I technically COULD finish this entire growler, which is something not to be attempted with most Old Ales. It is like how I technically can eat an entire P’zone, but god damn does my body make me pay for it. Never before has dialysis been so classy and affordable.

When you pop open 2 liters of draft only Old Ale, your face be like.

Narrative: “Ok well when you step in, watch out for the drawbridge,” Mrs. Olson noted as she led the social worker into the expansive parlor. The entire framework from floorboard to crown molding was covered in complex K’Nex contraptions and devices. “Honey…the lady from Adult Protective Services is here to see you sweetie…” Mrs. Olson noted to her father and he looked up from a multicolored carousel and frowned upon being disturbed from his work. “Hello Mortimer, my name is Janice and I am here to check up on you since none of your other friends or relatives have heard from you” she trailed off as she saw a complicated network pulleys and buckets, carrying the possession of the old man from room to room. It was ingenious and colorful, pleasant and relaxing at the same time. The majestic pieces clicked in uniformity and brought Mortimer a plate of Vanilla Wafers and remained in silence, frowning at the County employee. “Mr. Olson, do you…do you want to come with me? This seems like no way for a man of your years to live.” Mortimer Olson was capricious, easy going, but more than all of that, he was complex to the core. You could enjoy a roller coaster demonstration with him while eating a Werther’s Original, or you could fuck right off.

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Congratulations: You Muled. Why Should the Rest of Us Give a Shit?

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Another installment in my continuing study of pics that beer nerds love to post brings us to this topic: Showing Off Hauls of Muled Beer.

I am not talking about taking a pic of a bunch of unopened beers you received, that is a different topic altogether. What I am discussing is when you mule a ton of bottles of someone and post a picture of a bunch of bottles that belong to other people, some shit like this:

:Hay guize, I has a car and other people put my name on list. Look at my temporary possessions.”

My favorite part of these pics is usually the humblebrag caption which is usually hyperbolic and misleading:

“32 bottles of Black Tooz to the Dome, NO BIG DEAL”
“Oh nothing to see here JUST 5 CASES OF BEATIFICATION #regularfriday”
“45 bottles of Bourbon County Vanilla, I am not circumsized.”

Shit like that. The first thing that occurs is 1) haters proceed to hate, as they are wont to do. The first wave of this is people citing your picture as to how easy the beer was to get. Then phase two is a series of people thinking that bottles of Citra are just spilling off the shelves by the case and that Black Note is some shitty shelfturd (it sat on a shelf for 3 days, FUCK THAT.)

The funniest part of this is that the majority of the bottles in the pic aren’t even usually the property of the person posting it, but that fact is always carefully omitted with some oblique gerund phrase like “running the game like a baws!”

I vote that all subsequent pics should have a caption of total deprecation like “I picked up other people’s things for them, hopefully this will benefit me in some way.” Straight HUBRIS UP IN THE CUT.

If I have done this in the past, then my prior pictures were all ironic and therefore I am exempt from this shitty criticism, no tagbacks.

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Struise Double Black Stout, 26% abv for those times when Single Blacking Out Isn’t Enough

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As my loyal readers may be aware, this site started with a compulsive desire to talk mad shit on every beer in every top 100 list, I think we are still on course. Aside from that, this beer would pop up at like 99 ever so often and I would have to whack a mole that shit constantly. Ever had Bligh’s Barleywine? I have, because it was in the top 100 for like 43 minutes. It is an amazing barleywine, I just want you to see the fucking troubles I encounter for your amusement. Anyway, this bottle was 70-100 euros and is a direct/less expensive analog to FIVE SQUARED albeit the stout version. So we ice distill the amazing Black Albert down to 26% and then drink it at Alesmith strictly for the lulz. Let’s get it.

Double Blacking out so hard on that 26% monster.

De Struise Brouwers
Belgium
American Double / Imperial Stout | 26.00% ABV

A: For a beer with a staggeringly high abv, this actually was nicely carbed, but the crazy heat and inky thick vicosity strangle the bubbles out of this potation. The sheen is just that, double black. If Huna is an 8 on the darkness scale, this is an absolute black hole, absorbing all photons without mercy. The sheeting is the only thing keeping the staining malts at bay. You bust a sick swirl and watch the khaki darkness coat and then the huge alcohol sheeting comes down wet and clear, putting that pussy in a sarcophagus.

New beer users always obsess over ABV over actual taste, it is the fucking 9GAG of the beer world. Go drink 120 Min and eat my ass, this is big boy beer shit.

S: This goes HAM on all aspects, it goes apeshit with chocolate, deep hot bourbon, cocoa, intense roasted malts, light char, and a nice vanilla and coconut to the backend. I don’t know how they did this. Seriously. After suffering through Tactical Nuclear Penguin, I expected a nightmare from this, but it is incredibly drinkable and reminds me of an…imperial…Black Tuesday. Think about that shit for a moment. I am talking about a “single” format that is 19% abv. This is a full 7% above that. Game recognize game.

T: This will light up your chest like E.T. There is a deep bourbon at the outset with smoky malts to balance it and a deep chocolate finish. After the swallow the real fun begins, since most of this beer is in the residual power that you are going 12 rounds with. While it is in your mouth, it is too viscous and complex to discern elements, but after the swallow you get the emotions in waves, like being dumped on prom. You get a deep caramel and oak from the barrel, the roast lingers for a bit, there’s coconut and vanilla, finally a full 10 seconds later, you lick your teefers and get a butterscotch aspect. Then you look at your glass and realize you have another fucking 13 ounces to deal with.

I roll hard on 240 bottle releases, drop 100 euros on bottles, have them shipped from Belgium; thugging so hard.

M: I shouldn’t have to tell you what this coats like. This has a deeper coating than Trojan Twisted Sensations. You get this deep viscosity in the mouthfeel and upon swallowing you think that the experience is over since the heat from the bourbon and abv seems to burn off the residual sugars in your mouth, then the mendicant vagrants climb out from the cracks, sweet and chocolatey in the dystopian future that is your gumline.

D: I would be remiss to say that this is drinkable, per se. Sure, unless you are Shogokawada, you probably can’t merk a bottle to yourself. No hating on Shogo, I PROBABLY COULD, but then again look at my site, I have some demons going on beyond the ambit of most people lining up Netflix queues. So it would break down like this: you could drink half of this and enjoy it, I could drink a full bottle of this and then write a review like this, Shogokawda could drink a full bottle and then decide that it is time to get to work. And the hierarchy is maintained. Unless you are on a straight Brett Favre level, or on my Aaron Rodgers tip, pool your money like poor bastards and brag about this shit on the Matt Leinart scene, smiley as fuck.

At a certain point you just flex your beer lats, and go bat wing on all the haters. If you read this site, you already powerlevelled so hard.

Narrative: The cabinet of the Killer Instinct creaked with his intense power, sweating at the brow while ironically using Glacius. Sure he was 43 years old. Yes, he had a culdesac. Hell, Janus Milkerson even reeked of 4 Roses bourbon on the regular but no one would deny his ability to chain sick combos. To face him was to cast 2 quarters into the river of Styx, a hopeless endeavor. He was the darkest most hate filled individual in the entire arcade. Most children patronizing the location were doing just that, patronizing the location. To come to a place and spend hard currency on physical machines to imbibe the slow leak of outdated graphics was a strange foreign enterprise. “AH, and from when THINE CAME, thou shalt be returned!” Janus echoed, spitting upon the joystick, scaring the 5th grade opponent. He was the darkest, most hateful participant in the building, but he was strangely calm and poised in his madness. After playing a game with him, children would stand in cool reverence and wonder whether excellence was possible and whether the fleeting reality of shortsighted hedonism was a valid outlet, before exchanging their tickets for spider rings and jolly ranchers.

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HAPPY H(ALE)OWEEN, Time for a Top Rated Quad: St. Bernardus 12, for the Pagan Ritual Haters

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Here’s a top 100 beer that has gone unreviewed for far too long. On a larger point, I have neglected the shit out of quads lately, I usually view them as a halfway house between the sweet English Barleywines and the deep dark succor of Imperial stouts, but they are a beast all unto themselves, worthy of reverence and cool reflection. Even if you have disputes with the monastic roots and don’t see the point of pious reflection and fasting to honor whatever deity that you see fit for whatever ritual rooted in pagan fealty that you happen to believe or cast cool skepticism over, you at least have to respect parsing phrases and independent clauses. And beer.

Sure I could have dropped that $8.99 to show you the 33cl bottle, but is your fucking Google finger broken? Here is what it looks like in draft you lazy ingrates.

Brouwerij St. Bernardus NV
Watou, Belgium
Quadrupel (Quad) | 10.00% ABV

A: Nice deep almost milky caramel countenance, solid lacing, tiny tiny microscopic bubbles that linger long after you drink and a mirror shine to it without any middle carbonation to speak of.

Quads this big and delicious will put your palate in overrustle, use your limit break already.

S: You can hear the groans from the anticipationists a mile away, guess what it smells like? Yes, deep boozy figs, raisins, dates, and a nice malty back bone. If it didn’t, would it really be an exceptional Quad? Maybe but do rhetorical questions still perform well in a global economy? We shall see.

T: This has a nice syrupy quality that is abated by the tiny bubbles that pump up the palate mildly. I don’t want to take deep swallows of this by any means but, it is a great beer to sip on if only a 10oz pour were provided. I don’t want to say that you can’t opt for the old 3 Liter chestnut that we have all seen, however, I will opine that you have demons that you are chasing that the public remains aware of.

You can’t photoshop a quad, no matter how hard you try, it is a tough style to pass off, dating site or otherwise.

M: Again, this has a decent coating lying somewhere between the crazy OG of an imperial stout, that hates you, and a loving DIPA that lingers for a bit too long after dinner parties. This is perfect if you want to brandish a huge corked masterpiece and impress a “boss” languidly. “CORKS IN BEER WELL I NEVER!” the Applebees hostess exclaims as a cork rickochets against a picture of a a tube filled with ice cream.

D: This, somehow, is incredibly drinkable. On paper it seems like a swimming pool in the front yard: things all out of place, problems abound; however this just works. It seems like someone dropped off their idiot savant cousin who decided not to drop a duke in my sink and instead arranged everything amiably. As thick and alcoholic as this is, I still feel this is an everyman[sic woman] beer that is simply delicious.

When you get a trappist ale this drinkable with a solid 10% left hook, someone is gonna be getting some smooches and knuckle sandwiches.

Narrative: “GOD DAMNIT IT, EVERY holiday” “Hey Steve, lower your voice” “OK, every holiday party he does this” Their eyes surveyed the Christmas party and noted several women at the beckon call of a single aged man with a clear graying cul de sac. “HOW DOES HE DO IT!” Steve exclaimed in exasperation. “Come on man, he wears a bold orange robe to parties, talks to women like he’s been drinking 12% beer all day and all night, and performs mild miracles; how do you not love him?” The two watched from their sulking position as old Abby 12 pulled a bottle of Svedka from his robe sleeve. “OK COME ON THAT ISNT EVEN GOOD VODKA!” Both guffawed in disbelief as he chastely rebuffed a woman’s advances and deftly cited passages from the book of Ruth. “RUTH! COME ON WHO KNOWS RUTH!” Steven bemoaned.