Category Archives: barrel aged

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Marin Brewing Bourbon Barrel-Aged Old Dipsea With Brett, Pop Mad Bottles and Start to Feel Dipsea

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Oh wait a second, two vintage rar barleywines in one week? Sounds about right for this site. Here’s a roaster from the Bay Area that has been tossed in a barrel and then lightly infected, to taste. Let’s see if Northern California brings anything to the table in today’s review

This was back when taking pics with, or even owning, a Blackberry was acceptable.

Marin Brewing Bourbon Barrel-Aged Old Dipsea With Brett
Marin Brewing Company
California, United States
American Barleywine | 9.00% ABV

A: The look is clearly murky brown ale or a hateful barley wine and the latter is the frontrunner by a longshot. It has a mild murkiness that doesn’t impart a ton of sediment or carbonation. It feels like this beer has had enough punishment and just wants to be consumed, like anyone on the cover of US! Weekly.

Whenever someone starts comparing barleywines to King Henry, I be all like-

S: This will not make your cranium explode: at the outset you get mild infection which creates cool funk and some hot peat notes; your boner is shortlived once the bumbling dark fruits roll into tow, feeling out of place at best.

T: There is a decent malty note that drops off precipitously into mediocre “deep fruits” but again, there are just so many other haters doing it much better. The years gave this some good mellowing time, but it still will not be winning any spelling bees. If I see this for less than $15, I will buy it absolutely. Let’s not cross streams, this is delicious, but it is. . .strange?

Brett in a barleywine seemed like a good idea, many things sound like a good idea at first.

M: The mouthfeel is a bit weird, it comes on with this cigar smoke/burnt oak which is cool for a bit and then goes ape shit and turns into a fig/plum mess for about .5 seconds, then it is a brown ale. You look out your cellar door and you say to yourself “ok, what happened?” 2009 just happened. Each drink is like this.

D: I can honestly say that 2009 mellowed it out. That being said, it did not tame it completely. I couldn’t drink an entire bomber of this, nor do I want to. Again, the caveat is that I don’t enjoy the idea of infecting barleywines but, I guess after having your dick slammed in a car door several times you are…less averse to having your…dick smashed?

I was told that barrel aging always improves beer, wait wat-

Narrative: God damnit, you are born with a huge gullet for feeding on bottom feeder fish and all of a sudden everyone assumes you are the symbol of fertility. Sure, they don’t know the difference between the old pelican and a stork but, it just strikes you to the core with hateful interpretations. You just attempt to be a mid California bird of prey and all of a sudden Napa house wives are casting their undergarments into the bay at the outset of your wake. How you wish you could tell them that it wasn’t that UC Berkeley PhD in gaelic studies that would enrich their lives. IT WAS WHISKEY. The pelican was not the paradigm of fertility, it was the bird of vice, SO DRINK MORE, he would opine.

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Ale Smith 2008 Barrel Aged Decadence, ONE OF 433 BOTTLES – .RAR status Achieved

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I was pretty Gucci Mane wasted when I merked this bottle, so no pics, but it looked like a barleywine, what do you want from me? You take the bus.

2008 Barrel Aged Decadence
AleSmith Brewing Company
California, United States
English Barleywine | 11.00% ABV

A: nice murkiness to it with some deep brown hues, the mocha foam subsides quickly and isn’t even gracious in its retreat. No lacing or after thoughts are provided. It’s like beating off to your old year books, it is over too quickly and you’re left with a lingering sadness.

Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, Martha.

S: No shocker here, you get the oaky deep wood notes, similar to Hellshire, but with more of a southern boozy bourbon twang to it. There’s some light fruit juice and nice tannins to the nose. There’s a mild tartness to it that kinda reminds me of pear, there’s a nice waft of .rar as you winzip it. My jimmies are well archived.

T: At the outset, huge tart front dominates strangely, but welcomely. It has lots of grape and bright fruits in the middle that is just confusing with all the booziness going on. The juiciness just remains steadfast with no dark fruits or caramel. I keep waiting for the barley wine aspects to kick and it just remains crisp with almost merlot notes. The middle finger extended graciously.

Look how tart this barleywine is, just look at it.

M: This has a nice crispness to it and continues to be iconoclastic in all barley wine form. It imparts this chardonnay dryness with lingering plums and stands back to watch for your reverence. It is almost just confusing all in all. I don’t know how to treat this wayward soul. It seems like an incredibly skilled magician that is also, homeless. You don’t trust it fully but you know that it has an impeccable degree of control. You wallet is gone but you love the prune taste imparted.

D: This is surprisingly drinkable, if not for the strange chimera that it presents. It straddles a ton of separate styles and executes them all well, somehow. It’s like an anti-version of Will Smith. The crispnes and light fruits make it awesome for hot weather with a nice abv booziness that blows my mind. I don’t understand it, but I like it. I GUESS.

This is my favorite beer brewed by Martin Luther King

Narrative: Professor Wallerstein was a physics professor. Well let me back this up, he is a physics professor, but he is also an avid cooper. What’s that you say, “Coopers are an antiquated trade that died in the post Victorian era?” Well then professor Wallerstein has a thing or two to say to you, captain nay sayer. “You see my dear students, the porous nature of the wood coupled with the imbibing properties make barrels the ideal surface for storing and enhacing EVERYTHING.” The student body watched in astonishment as Professor Wallerstein produced a soggy, dank, salami sandwich, clearly reeking of bourbon. “NOW YOU SEE STUDENTS;” he began “This sandwich used to be plain old delicious, now once you infused it completely with wood a bou-” Three officials burst into the corridor with menacing glances. “Put the Sammie down Professor Wallerstein” he crumpled indignantly upon the linoleum and cast his soggy bourbonwich to the awaiting masses.

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Drie Fountenein Schaerksbaek Kriek, Just Try Pronouncing That Without Sounding Like a Beer DBag (BDB)

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You’ve been to the bottle shop. You’ve seen this Belgian treat for $39.99 and you’ve always wondered if you’re worth it. Let’s pop your Sch. cherry in today’s review. You are worth it to me.

Get ready for some face melting, and I don’t mean from cat dander.

Drie Fountenein Schaerksbaek Kriek
6% abv, kriek, no shit.

A: It glows a transparent crimson hue with magenta notes at the edges. The middle carbonation is unparalleled. It looks like a red champagne, but more refined and people actually buy this. No lacing, no stickiness, just cherry sticky shurikens cast pell mell.

Poured a radioactive cherry beer, my face was like-

S: There is an intense drying of cherry skins and cabernet tannins. It feels a bit vaporous but fulfilling. It smells really dirty, like a cherry locker room, where they engage in all their tawdry cherry muskiness. You know the type, the movies are under your bed as we speak.

T: It just infiltrates and the cherry is clearly the hostage in this drying, hostile currant raid. It is incredibly crisp and it empties the vault of your palate and smashes the glass case within your bitter zones and imparts a mild hopiness that is almost imperceptible to the incredible acidity left behind. It hurts my tum tum, but it tastes like burning in a good way.

Feel that acidity light up your chest, embrace the GI problems.

M: It feels like I am being worked over by the cherry mafia, It is crisp and amazing for a moment, then I feel my gum line recede when the incredible acidic flavors impart their magic. It is worth it. Each swallow is crisp like champagne and beckons for more.

D: This is incredibly drinkable if you have a fortitude for incredibly tart hectoring. I could merk bomber after bomber, but I am not of the everyman opinion. Most will give this an offputting vinegar rating and complain about the tartness while I am shooting it all over my chest like a victorious Nascar entrant. That’s how I roll in the kriek.

Feed lambics to 95 lbs girls, observe results.

Narrative: “I love this Farmer’s Market, but I LOVE YOUR CHERRIES MOST OF ALL FARMER JOB!” he smiled wryly and handed the customer her 2 lbs of organic cherries. “I would KILL for these cherries on the east coast!” She turned on her heel and Farmer Job exhaled “she doesn’t know old boy, take a breather, relax.” He pushed past the back curtain into his back lab. The truth was that his entire cherry empire was fueled on the blood of felled cherry trees. He looked at their mangled forms, bleeding out, their saccharine juices imparting life to his super cherries. “Soon, soon my grafts will impart tartness beyond belief.” “BUT HOW MANY TREES MUST GIVE THEIR LIVES FOR YOU GOALS!” an apparition called from his potted apothecary. Farmer Job fell to his knees not unlike the character whom his name is unabashedly derived. “OH GARDENING TENANTS! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME SO!” At that moment, the most succulent cherry blossom opened in his face. It was at those times that Farmer Job was the weakest, that there was one set of footprints in the cherry soil that the super cherries carried him.

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Tired Hands Brewing Trois Enfants Lazy Feet, Strawberry Andre Meets Fantome Ragers

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This brewery is another upstart that has hit the ground running by cranking out noteworthy hop bombs and funky saisons, not unlike another certain Vermont mixmaster. This beer is only available on draft, in a reasonable 2 liter growler so today’s review is going to be very thorough, something to drown your sorrows in since you learned the Jef won the Bachelorette. Sticky sweet berry banger, Keisha smokin on Keisha.

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 5.30% ABV

A: This beer has a nice gemstone ruby red color that isn’t exactly my go-to Sherwin Williams color when I think of saisons. It reminds me of that shelf turd Fantome Noel that celebrates Christmas all year round. The spotty lacing looks promising and the growler served Fedex well by guarding this CO2 with its life. As usual, just look above, you know what this looks like. We run a pretty tight ship around here, it’s a game ship.

“Why you always gotta review rare beers I nevar has?” Pic related.

S: There a hint of ripe strawberry, some brett b funk, red Runts candy, a tart vinous profile, and yeasty wood, not the kind you need to get checked out at Planned Parenthood.

T: The taste has a light sweetness that is similar to a strawberry wine, dry oaky malty profile, a light yet heavy paradoxical malt profile that imparts some fleeting funk and wood notes and then peaces out with your Laserdisc player. This is not “on style” I guess and it could be some kind of crossover hybrid between saison, funky english mild, and a strawberry berliner, but then again I ate a shitload of Warheads as a kid, what do I know. I will leave this one up to the pre-diabetics in the audience.

This beer was quite the adventure.

M: This is exceptionally watery and punches home the strawberry and oak notes with no lingering standing in the doorway or effusive goodbyes. You get the fruit, then some oak, and this hobo saison packs up its bindle and rides the rails to another saison shantytown.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, Sean Thompson is wrong. There I said it. If you know him, tell him his opinion is bad and he should feel bad. I am coasting through this growler, mashing on the low (for this site) abv, and just enjoying my strawberry vitamins. The carbonation is good but doesn’t give a big crackly foaminess that fills me up, this allows some serious saison domestic abuse. This is the perfect beer to drink if you plan on throwing some Xbox controllers anyway, this gets it done a bit earlier. Downloading Marvel vs. Capcom doesn’t hurt either. This isn’t world class, but it shows a glimmer and foreshadowing of what this little upstart is capable of. If any of you hater PA readers have some Tired Hands to send my way, holler.

When you open a 2 Liter Growler, a truce is never an option. That is a battle to the death.

Narrative: “The raccoon came out of nowhere, Dad, I swear!” Jessica Harmssen pleaded with her fuming patriarch. He had loved and cherished his 1994 Neon Espresso since the day he drove it off the lot of the now defunct dealership. “Jess, I mean, I really don’t know what is worse, I can no longer make it to the farmers market, but, without my muscle car, I have lost my fruit sculpting passion.” Jessica lowered her head with a deep solemnity. She knew that her father had been studying to pass the Edible Arrangements proficiency exam and now he had next to zero chance of passing that daunting trial. “I am not mad at you sweetie,” Mr. Harmssen began, “but, I just don’t see how I can learn how to carve a strawberry lotus with…this. I will be the laughing stock of the communal farmers, a smashed in Espresso, the bumper is hugging my 14″ rims.” Jessica knew that she had disappointed her father, but, she was secretly glad that he would go back to his Daihatsu Charade, the weekend car, because that piece of automotive refinement was a real head turner.

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Lost Abbey Box Set Track 7 – The Devil Inside, Devil on the Inside, Clean on the Outside

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Ok, let’s give some context to this box set series since most people have more productive things to do with their time than monitor rare ass beer releases. Lost Abbey is releasing one of these beers each month, available for consumption onsite only, in limited numbers. You cannot take bottles away, don’t ask or you’ll get socked. You can enter a lottery to win a box set of all 12 tracks, to be sold at the end of the year. So, basically massive whale box is what we are looking at here. Here is July’s track: The Devil Inside.

If you have ever drank too many lambic/sours, you have felt the devil inside.

The Lost Abbey
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 8.12% ABV

Here’s what the brewery has to say:

“We went back to the well for this one. It is a remix of our classic Veritas 006 aka sangria. We have raspberry and cherry providing the bulk of the fruit texture over a sour yellow base beer. To this we also added some orange peel and freshly zested mandarin orange zest as well. The beer finishes with a nice tannic finish and is truly a refreshing riff on a Lost Abbey classic. ”

A: This is a deep crimson meets magenta look that is inviting like a Lisa Frank binder but menacing like the velvet curtains of that touchy camp counselor you remember too well. The lacing is minimal and the bubbles are light but crackly with acidic rancor. The whole thing looks and feels like a Prince concert, and the elegance is maintained.

When the server dropped off the bottle and radiant glass, I was all like-

S: This has a huge acidic and berry profile with notes of blackberry, raspberry, cherry, currant, tart plum, and a nice citrus finish. It is evident that you will need to switch to PPO dental insurance for drinks like this, because the acidity is nothing to fuck with.

T: This crackles with a juicy acrimonious burn along the gumline that brings some awesome fruits to the bouquet. There’s cherry tannins, that raspberry dryness that you remember from Framboise de Amarosa, then slinking in sheepishly is that fruit profile from V007 that we previously visited. This doesn’t feel devilish, necessarily, but it has a deeeeep burn like those cross-fit box jumps you are so sick of hearing about.

Take fruits and make amazing beer with them: FUCK YOU SCIENCE.

M: This is incredibly dry and tannic like a red wine that has been juicing and using n0x for a sick deep pump. There’s a juiciness at the outset that brings a nice sweetness to accompany the acidic profile. You might get some ulcers from this, but it’s a way cooler story than the old “oh I worked at a failing car dealership” song and dance that burns most people out.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable if you are one of those kinds of people that can play Lifeforce or Rock Band on Expert for hours on end. It is relentlessly punishing but incredibly satisfying. I recommend winning the box set and then taking this one to Jamba Juice and then just sip on this while looking at the other suckers getting fruits in their boring, traditional way.

When you have enough hardcore sours, you start to understand the nature of the universe.

Narrative: Mikayla “Raven” Collier was not adjusting well to 8th grade. Her parents had moved 4 times in the past 5 years and it had taken a toll on her frail psychological profile. As a result, she turned to the all too common practice of adolescent necromancy. The PDF Necronomicon file that she downloaded was substantial and she printed it onto parchment paper from Staples, to give it a genuine luster. She assembled her other awkward friends, the girl with the inexplicable orthopedic back brace, the large girl with a massive lisp to match, and the Samoan girl from her P.E. class. The children had no materials from which to summon the dark fugues of the past. It was almost impossible to find solid alchemy materials in a track home in Charlotte, North Carolina so they made do with what was around the house. Raven found a box of produce from the monthly fruit colelctive that her “lame ass” parents subscribed to and produced the most evil fruit of them all: the unholy durian. After crushing copious amounts of blood pulp from raspberries and cherries, Samoan girl lit the incense. She brandished a Cutco knife, uttered the scrawling script in papyrus font, and cut the foul blackness open, releasing the odious soul of the durian, crusher of mankind. The eyes of the pubescent girls watered and they nodded, this was still much less shitty than Sadie Hawkins.

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Hill Farmstead Fear and Trembling Cabernet/Bourbon Blend, Infinite Resignation is the Last Stage of Fatih

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Believe it or not, I have actually been trying to ratchet back my reviews of all these HF gems lately. No, it is not due to the confusion surrounding the Ephraim release, and no it is not due to my latent bitterness being unable to land an Ann (her?) I simply cannot forego reviewing some of these old school (relative to Hill Farmstead lifespan) treats.

This porter is suspending my universal beliefs for my individual understanding of what a porter can be.

Hill Farmstead Brewery visit their website
Vermont, United States
Baltic Porter | 9.30% ABV

A: Just like all well-done porters, this has that signature thin bodied nature to it that splashes into the glass without heft or massive sheeting. The carbonation is generous and looks like a Coffee Bean drink with khaki foam and microbubbles smaller than 3J’s role in Family Matters.

At a certain point you should at least try to mask your affection for something.

S: This is a bit smokier than I would have liked but imparts a nice char, super Charizard if you will. Then again I am not a fan of char in the first place so I guess take that with a grain of char limits. There’s chocolate, a slight red grape aspect that is more of a tannic dryness, and a bitter coffee aspect. I could have used a bit more of the refreshing porter aspects to this instead of toeing the imperial stout line but, you mess with the Baltic, you get the horns.

T: Thankfully this campfire session eschews the roasted wood and goes a ‘smore route with a deep chocolate, cocoa, vanilla and a touch of mallow foam. The dryness from the oak is present but doesn’t put both hands in your malt bowl, just enough to be noticed. There’s some plum and stone fruit aspects and a smoky finish at the verrrrry end that sneaks in like the littlest roast puppy in the litter. There’s a great complexity and it’s tough to knock any of the three variants of this beer.

If you don’t enjoy dark beer I could always serve you a baby sloth in a chalice, your decision.

M: The mouthfeel is slick and light, dead on to porter, but not quite going into an overweight stout territory. The carbonation is fine and feels like 700 thread count sheets, a sateen duvet in your mouth. But you drink beer so you probably have that Walmart all-in-one bedsheet that single moms love to tolerate. I liked this better as it warmed and the barrel characteristics became more pronounced. You want that deep dark fruit, go get it.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and masks its ABV very well. The light body and huge flavor profile is a haymaker that clears your glass pretty effortlessly. I would say the imperial porters from Hill Farmstead are improving steadily as I would rank them as follows:

Birth of Tragedy > BA Everett > Fear and Trembling

For anyone who gives a shit about bottles that are nearly impossible to obtain. Me recommending a 300 bottle run of something limited beyond belief is kinda like polishing an apple on my shirt and talking about which of my Ornithopters is my favorite.

Some people think imperial porters are just stouts in disguise, haters gonna hate.

Narrative: “And go, take your last bottle, first born in your cellar and cast it into the Fedex truck, for a return blessing shall be forthcoming.” The anonymous message seemed suspicious, yet highly credible to Mark Wallerstein. He had been trading beer online for years, but never before had he received such a divine command. “Is this some kind of LIF or someth-” he thought and suddenly a message appeared “NO, this is not a lottery it forward, only when you sacrifice your most precious bottle can you obtain that which is truly worthwhile.” This was a bit creepy but Mark began solemly wrapping his 2007 Cable Car in bubble tape, aware of the intense burden laid at his doorstep. He was to suspend all belief in bartering and give up his most precious to become elevated to a state of fear and trembling. He would exchange rationalism for hope in the ultimate gesture of beer bonhomie. Just as Mark was about to ship his final and only Cable Car, a UPS worker stopped him. “You see Mark, only by knowing that you could give up this sick wale, could you demonstrate your right to receive this:” and on that very site, his bottle was spared and he was given a bottle of Dirty Horse, unblended, 1983. A divine blessing indeed.

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Russian River Compunction, NOW AVAILABLE IN 24OZ ALUMINUM CANS

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Just kidding, this tart gem is still walez. Most people go apeshit for vintage beats, large format Russian River sours, and even that elusive over the hill geriatric sucker, Depuration. BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS OVERLOOKED GEM? This has never been in a bottle, never been growlered, rarely observed in the wild, never domesticated. Let’s let guilt set in today’s review, because you know what you DID.

Draft only, no growler, DONG so hard right now.

Russian River Brewing Company
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 5.40% ABV

A: This looks suspiciously Founey, and has the light carbonation that unsurprisingly attends this elusive beer. The lacing is minimal, the head subsides immediately, and the entire affair calms down like a Lifetime movie really quickly. However, if you somehow have a glass of this and complain about its appearance, you are doing it r0ng. The gentle light orange and deep yellow hues are inviting but they remind you of that time you backed out on a trade, and you should feel bad.

This is a perfect illustration of how it feels to sip on this romantic portrait of an amazing wild. I did not urinate on myself, that time.

S: This smells like a blend of damn near all of the Russian River gems in a fantastic way. You get that bretty funk from Sanctification, a tart apricot acidity from beatification, that oaky character from temptation, and a white grape tannic profile from that asshole, Consecration. It kinda feels like Fantome put their balls in this batch simply due to the funk ghost that haunts the glass, ain’t even mad tho.

T: Again, the funk pounds out beats in double time like Tower of Power. There’s a deep tart cheese astringency, old saddle musk, nice apricot and peach aspects to the tartness with old gam gam’s sweet pies. There’s a backend that is similar to a biscuity chewy finish and somehow the dryness gets along with it amiably. The whole thing is kinda like a kumquat shortbread cookie, since who hasn’t baked up a fresh batch of those?

When I am mashing out on rare sours, bother me nevermore, I don’t care if it is my sweet love Anabelle Lee.

M: There’s some breadiness and the pastries are kept in check by a hateful acidity that lingers, knowing of your past transgressions. No one saw that traffic accident, no one except this beer. Now light malty clues are arriving with strange alacrity. Who placed those flaky biscuits on the windowsill? Someone who KNOWS.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and serves as a venerable Megazord of Russian River’s finest offerings in a united, powerful form. I wish this was available in bottles as it might be the best nominalization from Russian River, gives me a nice -tion in my heart. Then again, I am glad this isn’t available in bottles because then people would just wipe it out and trade it for Allagash wares, or something.

The things I would do to try this beer again are numerous and shameful.

Narrative: “Ayla, this simply is not possible!” Taeyler gasped as she found a badly worn Tamagotchi sitting on her doorstep. “Taytay, no one saw what we did that day in Claires.” Even Ayla knew deep down, her pangs of conscience were tart and cold. “No one could have foreseen that stealing those magnet earrings and scrunchies would have resulted in that hemophiliac girl bleeding to death in the piercing chair. WE COULDN’T HAVE KNOWN!” But someone did know, someone with a deep acidic disposition and an affinity for children’s hair care products. They booted up the Tamagotchi and reeled in horror to find a dead gigapet, fed constantly but never allowed to use the bathroom. “What kind of sick-” Taytay exclaimed and noticed, on the dead girl’s electronic pet, an attached magnetic earring. The deep sting of regret and tart shame.

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Alpine GREAT Barleywine, For Those Times When Good Barleywine Just Wont Cut It

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Mad props to DJ Butters for this one, a long time wanter, first time drinker. I had this the night I got engaged, I was feeling GREAT. This beer calls back to fonder days of Alpine Brewing’s barrel aging program when it wasn’t managed by the Stone BA IRS oversight committee, too soon? Anyway, let’s start feeling hella GREAT so we can keep on dancing.

This beer is GREAT. The coffee in the background was just good.

Alpine Beer Company
California, United States
American Barleywine | 14.00% ABV

A: This is a turbid but milky little beast that lazily pours out of the bottle with low carbonation and zero fucks to be given. The hazy brown stares back at you and makes a nice little constellation of bubbles that foretell your impending doom. The lacing has a tough time sticking to edges because of the nice sheeting of clear alcohol on the edges pushing the malt crabs back down to the bucket.

This may originally be an English style, but ‘Merica be doing it more better.

S: This has a great smell to it, despite the age and the nose bump set spikes vanilla, caramel malts, oak, macaroom, light coconut and a hint of booziness that has been running the yard inside the bottle for years making people hold its malty pocket.

T: This beer is an automatic DUI machine. The taste has a slight hint of booze but imparts a generous amount of caramello, plum, dark fruits, and bourbon like a massive quad with a sweet entourage. I can see things getting dangerous real quickly with this beer, ex-girlfriends will be texted, the entry way will be soaking wet, these are all side effects of drinking Great.

This is a panacea for all that ales you.

M: Think of all the 14% beers that you have enjoyed over the years AND SHATTER THOSE CONCEPTIONS OF REALITY. This beer is exceedingly still and tepid but the dryness from the oak and malts balances out the sweetness amiably. It isn’t overly sticky, nor is it astringently drying, it comes off like a hug that lasts a little too long from a co-worker, but you’re ok with it because it smells like Rolos.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and will wrap that Nissan Sentra around a telephone pole for you. Life upgrades thanks to Great. This bottle is small and so is your tolerance, even if you don’t think it is. Kuhnhenn BBBW could chill with this dude all day and they could tell mercenary tales about the core ass 14%+ antics they’ve gotten into. Again, this beer is a bitch to land so “drinkability” is relative to your Scrooge McDuck vault. Then again, if you still have several of these laying around, maybe you aren’t a Great person.

People may judge you for drinking an entire bottle of 14% beer to yourself, but hey, that’s your thing, you can be into it in the privacy of your home and it’s nobody’s GOSH DARNED BZNSS.

Narrative: Ian Ziering never thought that it would come to this. Just two decades ago he was riding high on life, starring in Beverly Hills 90210, loving the jocular stardom and all the pitfalls that Hollywood could bring. “Direct me to the excavation site Mrs. Gower-“ he commanded as a strode through the track home and into the lush backyard. A Labrador sat tied to a tree visibly curious about what had been uncovered. “Sweet Jesus” Ian Ziering gasped and fell to his knees “this is a seriously rare specimen, Yuban coffee can case, aging looks from the late 80’s potentially the golden Nickelodeon era.” Ian had become obsessed with unearthing time capsules. At first blush, it did not make any sense, and his small business model had several holes that warranted fiscal explanation. “You have quite the find here, notebook paper contracts from 11 year olds with what appears to be an agreement to always be best friends, Vanilla Ice cassette tape, Dino Riders toys. . .yes ma’am this is quite the gem.” Mrs. Gower was entirely unsure about what was so Great about unearthing these old gems, but standing in the presence of Steve Sanders in his aged glory held a special resonance.

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Odell Saboteur, Someone Straight Sabotaged My Wild Ale

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Odell makes some great gems. Colorado beers at large are on the come up like a Tibetan dice game. Sometimes however, wild ales get a little unruly and you gotta bring in the sour stick to get them back under control. Let’s see what exactly is Sabotaged in today’s review.

This pic be ode. No pour photos, fire up that imagination.

Odell Brewing Company
Colorado, United States
American Wild Ale | 10.00% ABV

A: The appearnce comes off as a brown muddiness with light lacing and some ruby tones at the edges. This is a strange base for a wild ale but it looks good, all things considered. I am always wary of dark sours because sometimes the complexity makes it trip over its own bacterial shoelaces, but this one looks pretty legit so far.

It’s like Consecration, but not. Like Rodenbach, but er…something is a bit amiss here.

S: There is a weird hybrid smell to this beer. You get two different worlds colliding at once. The first smell wafts of cherry, dark fruits similar to a quad, and some acidity. The second part is similar to almond with hazelnut and toffee. The smell is simply too busy to figure out what is going on for my feeble mind and nose. It’s like when someone puts on Godspeed You Black Emperor and nods approvingly, expecting you to love it at first blush.

T: There is a mild sourness at the outset that isn’t overly puckering. There is some smokiness but overall it doesn’t overpower or assert itself. It feels like it got pushed into a locker a Sour High School. It is mild mannered and enjoyable, if not forgetable. Again, the whole litany of things going on here makes it tough to pin down for either deficiency or innovation. You remember that dude in Mary Poppins who played all the instruments at once in the park? This beer is kinda like that, his music might suck, but what an undertaking.

This beer is interesting, but not exactly a Nightmare.

M: This isn’t overly drying but it isn’t exactly savory either. It is silky smooth but it also has some spikes and brambles to it as well. It reminds me of Rodenbach Grand Cru, but with a goatee and an eye patch. Just slightly different. It is the nuances that makes all the difference between Friends with Benefits and No Strings Attached.

D: This is incredibly drinkable and I wish that I had more of it, however, the availability and types of things I would have to give up to land this beer again make it less desirable. I could drink this beer all day, and not simply because it is my favorite style. Its complete failure to assert itself is a winning trait that makes it more likeable. Everyone needs a whipping sour you can beat up from time to time. It seems to have only Sabotaged its own chances to making it a truly memorable beer, and those Thundercat episodes aren’t gonna watch themselves.

I am not recommending death, but I would certainly say a solid 25 to life would benefit this wayward wild ale.

Narrative: The flashlight clanked and banged down 34 stories of the central air duct, setting off several alarms. Agent 301x wasn’t the best Saboteur that the Covenant had, but he was the only one currently available. 301x forgot his gloves at home and instead fashioned crude plastic mittens from discarded grocery bags. “I THROW MY HANDS UP IN THE AIR SOME TIMES SINGING AYYY OHHH” his cell phone began to clamor and resound echoing through the halls. He was memorable in his faults and impressive in his victories. The soles of his nonstick shoes squeaked loudly through the halls alerting everyone nearby of his presence. “ACHOOO!” he sneezed and accented the final noise so loudly that a janitor looked at his conspicuous face. “You again? God damnit, agent 301x, you forgot your keys again?” the janitor let him back into his own office; and the grand heist was complete.

1

Avery Brewing Oud Floris, For those times When Yung Floris Just Will Not Do

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What can I say about Avery that hasn’t been said before by myself and then retweeted and reposted, to myself and then forwarded as a PDF to Avery marketing? For those who care and are keeping score, from Avery’s sour program we have received 4 amazing sours and a single misfire. I will let you examine the wicks to determine which one that was, but let’s look at this geriatric flower in today’s review.

I knew a Floris once, she worked at a diner and, in the words of the inimitable Soulja Boi, she “ode.”

Avery Brewing Company
Colorado, United States

Style | ABV
Flanders Oud Bruin | 9.39% ABV

Alright enough of that “oud” joke, here’s the stats on this 237 case release (.rar.)

67% aged in Cab Sauv Barrels
17% aged in Bourbon Barrels
8% aged in Rum Barrels
8% aged in Chardonnay Barrels

You got that mathematicians? Alright, let’s get down to business.

A: This is dark, for a brown sour and even in the realm of the Oud Bruin, this has a deep murky pallor that hates me from the get go, the glass can barely attend to the billowing carbonation and sour genie that I just released. My first wish with ironic consequences is for a strong olfactory profile.

This beer is bad ass in a manner beyond my palate’s comprehension. Unleash the barrel Kraken.

S: Well wish fucking granted. This is granny smith apple tart with acidity that leaps up to your corneas and starts drying with tiny ph1 ice picks. There’s a tart caramel note, red grapes, sour molasses, and strange sweet tobacco smell to it. This is like if Consecration was mutated in a lab with Supplication and we got this Tyrant hybrid, a boss you totally did not level your character enough to face.

T: Wow, this is com-plex unlike a certain magazine by the same monicre. You get a strangely sweet nuttiness at the inception with a deep cranberry infused with merlot grapes. Don’t worry, this is not wine, I won’t flame Avery a second time for treading that ground. This is unmistakeably beer, and very good beer at that. If you have ever wanted your Rodenbach with more balls but Abbey St. Bon Chien is a bit weird to you, then this hybrid addresses your concerns amiably. I must say, as this warms, the astringency becomes more and more apparent, but unlike that complete failure Allagash Vagabond, this beer nails it without going to a fusel nail polish remover route.

brown ale, wine, rum, red grapes…I…I dont know what’s going on guize.

M: The mouthfeel almost hurts. The tartness is like eating a ton of movie candy, but you cannot stop popping in Skittles. The mouthfeel dries like the first time I tasted Temptation but in retrospect, this thing socks plenty of other wild ales in the face and sets to excoriating the first layer of the inside of my mouth like I just got a vintage can of Surge.

D: This is a great beer, complex, but seriously fuck you if you think you can power through several of these in a night. As usual, I drank the entire bottle to myself and that was plenty. It wasn’t that it was necessarily bad, but I felt like small birds could house themselves in the deep holes in my teeth after having this. Cankersores aren’t what most people set out to obtain but it’s certainly a possibility with something this acidity and complex at the same time. How about I use the throwaway word “complex” again. Shadow “complex” is an excellent Xbox Live game. There you go.

“Hey guys I got this little 12oz bottle from Colorado, I think it is sou-“

Narrative: The six heads of the synthetic beast fell to the lab floor with complete exhaustion. Test C734052 had been completed and it was apparent that this entity was capable of learning patterns. “Psshhifffsss” one tail that appeared to be a ream of grapes hissed at the lab monitor, busrting acidic juice on the walls. “Sir, do you feel we have tested the limits of what Napa barrels are capable of? I mean, this just feels like an abuse of our science grant,” Walmsly pleaded pointing at sciencey things on an oversized notepad. “GOD DAMNIT WALMSLY, I will tell you when our barrel experiments have gone too far, WHEN THE UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO BOULDER TELLS US SO-” Professor Vinos exclaimed with terse anger. It was his pet project, technically he was hired to teach viticulturist majors the ropes, but this flailing anomalous being was his chef-d’oeuvre. Who would suspect while the Buffalos were losing game after game in the Pac 12, his lab was pumping deep underground with new acidic life.