AC Golden Ctayt Whiskey Barrel Aged Stout, Beer Nerds Have Nice Manctayts

April 1, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Happy April Fool’s Day, I put Kvass in your fleshlight.

Psyche.

Put your pitchfork down and shut the fuck up for a moment. The second I posted a picture of this beer all these prediabetic beer nerds started sweating through their screen print tee’s in anger. Yes, I know this beer is made by a company that is a subsidiary of MillerCoors, but it is also fucking delicious. Beer assholes get all up in arms about corporate responsibility and turn beer into a watered down punk rock movement not realizing they are arguing about fucking sugar water. The same people who lambast awesome breweries like AC Golden take InBev into their mouths until completion and stroke Goose Island on the reg. So today, let’s talk about a fucking GABF medal winning, amazing stout, OK?

With enough whiskey, you can feel some Ctaytties

AC Golden Brewing Company
Colorado, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This pours a deep mahogany that is black at the center with that deep mocha foam that I love to see in all my Barista snuff films. The lacing is substantial and abated by the generous legs and clear sheeting on the glass. The ABV is not listed but given the residual sugars and how they get the shit womped out of them by the coating on the alcohol, I would peg this somewhere in the 12 to 13% range. It looks like if Stone IRS boned Huna, and theiy beautiful whiskey baby came out already swearing.

Whenever people write beers off before even trying them I be like

S: This is unmistakably whiskey forward with barrel tossing haymakers, making some sweet chin music. There is a baker’s chocolate, confectioner’s sugar, nestle chips, and basically an entire bakery up in my nose just nasal fucking me senseless. But in a good way, that brownie batter is welcomed. The barrel closes this out with a bit of astringency that is often found in those aggressive ass whiskey treatments. Rye on Rye is one of the biggest offenders in this regard. Nice blend of the sweet and the domestic violence, like beating someone’s ass in a candy shop drinking Johnny Walker.

T: This leads with the sweet cocoa and that dry roast first and almost reminds me of some kind of a Darkness variant with the bitterness to the malts and the deep char that serves as the floorboards for that barrel treatment to go apeshit on. The whiskey aspects round out the experience with a bit of vanilla and a scratchy crackle that those who have had Hangar 24 Hammerhead or Pugachev’s Cobra will be familiar with. This isn’t overly fusel, if only because of the generous sweetness at the outset that helps daddy take his medicine.

I don’t care if this beer was made in Jacob Schueler’s basement, I would still drink it on the reg and hit strip clubs like a madman.

M: This coats like Behr and leaves a bukkake coat of chocolate goodness on the inside of your mouth. The whiskey aspects linger a bit longer than I would have liked but adds a layer of complexity that is welcome, particularly in a world of 3-4 month barrel treatments. You gotta keep it inside longer if you want beer nerds to drop their loads. The mouthfeel has this incredibly fine carbonation that reminds me of a UK style nitro stout, but I know that’s not the case, just being baller as fuck in this regard.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the only real aspect that slows down unabashed alcoholism is the whiskey profile clubbing people and keeping you in check. That mouthfeel and the smooth sweetness make this staggeringly drinkable, especially if you have this around 50 degrees, at higher temps, whiskey staggers forward and starts grabbing asses and slapping titties. Some people are into that though.

“I AM HELLA INTO CRAFT BEER, LIKE HENNEPIN” do you even fucking row?

Narrative: Little Nauru wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. To be more accurate it was the least visited country on the face of the entire planet. They had amazing confections and an admirable local spirit program going on, especially for being a little island people of 8,000 souls. “NO ONE GIVES US A FUCKING CHANCE!” Mayor Jayurbi exclaimed while sipping an exotic, amazing liqueur while looking out over the huge sulfate mines. “People just stigmatize Little Naru as some 8.1 square mile strip mine and don’t see that we have artistry, we aren’t a hand of an impersonal corporation!” The chocolates were delicious and arranged at the visitor center next to an array of ambrosial treats. “PEOPLE VISIT BANGUI MORE THAN OUR COUNTRY! And they are in the middle of a fucking CIVIL WAR,” the mayor fumed and looked out upon the abundant, promiscuous local women. “I guess if those closeminded assholes wont give us a try, we can remain in Little Naru enjoying delicious things and fuck all to the rest of them!” Mayor Jayurbi exclaimed and took a deep pull of whiskey, organically distilled and completely amazing.

Cascade Bottleworks XIV, The Barret .50 cal of the American Wild Ale world, dropping shells in that chiquita

March 27, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright let’s knock out some more of the recent walez that have been clogging up the trade boards recently. This one is a glorious return from the complete Bottleworks nonsense that Stone offered up as last year’s anniversary beer. Every other year was like “hey let’s take our time and make a limited, amazing sour with almost zero distribution” and Stone was all like “how about we make a hoppy belgian strong with that same yeast strain that no one is stoked about? Ok now we will ship this to 34 states. Good.” So this was a breath of relief to see things getting back to normal. Let’s pound on this 14 year old in today’s review

You read that label correctly, almost 12% abv. Dropping more Lane Bryant panties than a Chris Brown record.

Cascade Brewing / Raccoon Lodge & Brewpub
Oregon, United States
American Wild Ale | 11.95% ABV

A: This is an outright beautiful beer with minimal lacing but substantial carbonation at the outset that sits in a sticky white cap (EUPHEMISM DETECTED) on the rim of a golden hue. Look at that, looking all like Nana’s broach, that sort of beauty you only see in your girlfriend’s eyes when she says “we lost the baby” or something like that. Tragic yet life altering. The sheeting is present in thick clear legs running down the glass like a Sir Mix A Lot video, NSFW stuff.

It is tough to imagine that massive 12% abv could have the fruits and grace of a complex american wild ale, but it pulls it off straight up Manticore style.

S: Holy hell, the traditional super lactic Cascade ultra acid bomb is present here, but he brought some ass beating friends to the school dance. In tow is Pineapple dipped in bourbon, Rum with some vanilla numchucks, and finally a Navel Orange with oak ninja stars. It is a formal fighting force that kicks ass on both tart and savory fronts.

This is a powerful hybrid of two things I love, maintaining power and beauty at the same time.

T: This maintains at the outset the incredibly tart apricot and juicy tangerine acidity but languishes into this really strange sitting chair of caramel and mallow kisses. The rum aspects kinda remind me of 5 Golden Rings or a super lactic Belgian tripel. This is complex almost to a fault because right when you get grounded with all the tart characters, shit turns into some crazy old ale realm where you can’t follow the plot of this beer. Supporting characters be popping up all pell mell, offering handjobs and kicking out barrel aged secrets.

M: This is a heavy double barrel heater all up in your oralfacehole. The residual sugars roll around like substrate in a lava lamp and the heat is decidedly present for a strangely distracting beer. You’d think this beer would have plenty of other aspects to focus on with the sour and crazy barrel properties, but the alcohol burn is still there and at higher temps it is the femme fatale of the film noir that’s going on in your mouth.

D: This is just too heavy, too hot, too everything to enjoy on long stretches. That coupled with the fact that this is a 12% beast with tons of beeetus inducing final gravities, makes it a tough one to take down solo. If you went deep on this 750ml, keep it in the fridge between pours because the complexity it gains at the high 50 temps is not what you are seeking. These are not the flavor droids that you are seeking. The carb makes this easy to drink and unless you let this open up to room temps, it will be tame and treat you right. At colder temps that 12% abv is kept in tow like a Korean wife, but behind closed doors, makes you its bitch.

I LOVE BIG WILD ALES THEY BE SO BAD. Oscar Wilde bad.

Narrative: Elvis Dumervil tossed his keys onto the rick mahogany table and lowered his head cautiously and skulked into the home, hoping that no one was awake. “SO GLAD YOU DECIDED TO COME HOME AT 2:34 in the morning, Elvis,” Latosha Dumervil remonstrated and flipped the light on in clear agitation. His massive frame shifted on his sore quads and he quickly set the bag in his arms down on the dark teak floor. “Baby please, you know it ain’t gotta be like that-” he pleaded and watched her pace back and forth shaking her head in disappointment. “Oh it aint gotta be like that? How it gotta be Elvis? You leave the Broncos and start living this double life, putting on more and more weight, more power, lifting barrels, eating strictly acidic fruits? WHO DO THAT? WHO BE DOING THAT ELVIS?” Elvis clenched his jaw and stared at her. “OH SO 63.5 SACKS WASNT GOOD ENOUGH HUH? NOW I GOTTA ANSWER TO THIS SHIT?” He kicked his duffle bag and horticulture equipment rolled out, among gardening supplies. “Oh so you WEREN’T AT RAVENS PRACTICE WAS YOU!” He turned crimson and gathered the items up. “I swear to God Elvis if you have been working on that orchard again and barreling preserves…WE JUST CAN’T GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN.” Just then his phone lit up with a text from Dink Martindale “YO ELVIS WE NEED THAT BRLED FRUITS NAO!!!” His wife began packing a suitcase.

Lost Abbey Acquires Dozens of Tequila Barrels With Hopes to Get People To “Absolutely Fucking Quit Buying Beer.”

March 26, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

SAN MARCOS, CA

Exciting new developments are abuzz at the Lost Abbey brewing facility today as workers feverishly stack newly sourced Tequila barrels from Tequila 30-30, a local distillery. Avid beer connoisseurs have been coming by the brewery regularly to watch a filthy potation go into even-more wretched barrels. “We are hoping to brew a strong ale on agave aged in Tequila barrels. The intent here was to put something together that would cripple the beer buying industry for years to come and release a landmark brew that no one could seriously agree was worth a vial of dog shit,” Tomme Arthur declared as he poured gallons of agave nectar right into the boil.

Local beer enthusiasts were still reeling from the recent Sede Vacante release and expressed even more excitement about the forthcoming release. “I hope that it is horrible, like worse than undrinkable,” San Marcos local, Chase Eddinger, declared. “I was kinda unsure after paying $35 for a bottle of a dead flat barleywine last weekend, but, I am hoping this next beer will make me hate all beer altogether.” The Lost Abbey staff met Thursday to discuss potential options to completely halt the sale of high end beverages and drew the conclusion that the fusion of a horrible tepid base beer aged on Tequila oak would be just the right path for the second fiscal quarter.

“We have been working tirelessly to make sure people stop buying not just our beer, but completely quit beer in general,” marketing manager, William Koning noted, “after releasing a $450 Guitar Center box filled with questionable blends, we alienated our poorest customers, now 2013 is dedicated almost entirely to ‘Operation Palate Genocide’ and this new Tequila blend looks to be entirely on mark for our goals.” The elaborate marketing plan was enacted in early 2012 to cut down on the number of customers entering the craft beer hobby and to ensure a viable future for reviewers and collectors alike.

“We said to ourselves, ‘Hey people love Duck Duck Gooze, they really liked Cable Car Kriek, we really gotta amp down quality, raise prices and get rid of some of these would-be consumers,” William Koning noted while demonstrating the anomalously soaring profits on a white board. “We want craft beer to be around for a long time, we can’t expand to meet demand, so making people think craft beer is a complete joke and/or waste of time was really the only viable option for the industry.”

Lost Abbey employees were seen hollowing out ripe gourds at press time and filling them with Riunite Lambrusco for an upcoming $50/bottle, 24 per person limit beer, release date to be announced. “We really stopped asking questions sometime around 2011, they know what’s best for the industry,” assistant brewer Michael Wilkerson commented while washing inexpensive Italian wine off of his forearms, “I don’t even drink beer anymore, and hopefully other people will be able to share that joy when they taste the fruits of our hard labor.”

Kuhnhenn Blueberry Eisbock, If Someone Says “Lagers Are Boring” Show them this shit

March 25, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

I love reading beer forums when some is like “lagers are all boring, why do they make them” and I just LOL myself and jump in my Scrooge McDuck vault of crazy ass lagers. I thought that I reviewed the 2007 Raspberry Eisbock for you assholes, but upon further reflection, after drinking at 15.5% abv tiny penis bottle I somehow forgot to type up a 900 word review. Imagine that. Anyway, this is even better and I cannot thank SurlytheDuff enough for this massive hookup. This was a 215 bottle release, $30 a bottle, 1 per person. Now add the midwest factor and we are talking shitstorm of the century,

Just my berries, no twigs. No stems no seeds no sticks. Put it in the air.

Kuhnhenn Brewing Company
Michigan, United States
Eisbock | 15.50% ABV

A: This looks like hardcore IHOP blueberry syrup and you wouldn’t be totally out of line drizzling this over some bread pudding or a stack of hot cakes. Look at that deep purple, regal in Imperial garb, deep violet tones coupled with a plum darkness. If you want carbonation, maybe you fucking forgot that we are dealing with Kuhnhenn here. If you signed up to this beer expecting massive head or sheeting, maybe you work QC for Hair of the Dog or something. Nobody got time for that.

Slaying 200 bottle releases and 12oz bottles that are 1 per person AND $30 a piece? berry thuggish.

S: This smells like a fresh jar of smuckers. Srs. You get this deep blackberry, plum, blueberry, jam, straight preserves to the dome spot. Again, imagine blueberry syrup with a light fusel aspect on the backend that some assholes would liken to Grape Robitussin, but I wouldn’t cast that dark a pallor on it. If you have ever had a huge American Cabernet and it comes across like boysenberries, that is how this is. Fucking massive.

T: This is exceedingly sweet and is seriously like taking jams and jellies straight to the dome piece in a blueberry factorial manner. You ever read that book “Blueberries for Sal” and wish that everyone was super wasted and that the bears ate the children? Well Kuhnhenn can make that happen for you. This has an incredible fresh produce taste to it way beyond the adjunct berry tastes that often occur in other beers. I can imagine that this cost a shitload of money to brew and the massive waft of alcohol on the backend makes it clear that this is not for the uninitiated. Some people might be like “wahhh this tastes like cough syrup” or complain that they have to take insulin before drinking this, but it’s like, grow a pair and get berry wasted. AMIRITE?

This beer may seem sweet and crude at first blush, but maybe it is way ahead of its time? Think about that shit.

M: This is as heavy as the cast of Designing Women and just lays around the palate like a viscous syrup, painting your tongue blue and purple. As it warms the fusel notes become more evident and the alcoholic waft loses that restraint but with that territory comes a deeper jamminess from the berries so it gives with one berry and plucks from the pail with another. Some would say that these Eisbocks are too saccharine and sweet but the light tannins and the huge juiciness to them keep this from being a Blueberries for Sal journey into the Candy Cane forest.

D: I am in the absolute minority here, and I know it, but I feel that these beers have far more utility than a mere 3 ounce pour that most people adhere to. If you take the time to let this beer open up and you drink some of it EIS CODE and then let it warm to the high 50’s you will go on a wonderful drunken journey that will likely be documented in the Police Report the next morning. Grip your twig and berries and lock this bitch down. Tag team it, film yourselves tag teaming it, put it on you tube, lick your fingers and talk about how sweet it was. Fucking weirdos.

The produce in this beer is taunting, strangely seductive.

Narrative: Jacob Lowbush was in quite the dilemma. He walked up the entryway in a dapper azure suit with a sweet DKNY cologne wafting through the air. “WELL THERE YOU ARE JACOB!” Keira’s mother exclaimed and accepted his bouquet of blue hibiscii flowers. Jacob’s lavender patent leather shoes creaked on the dark teak floor and he wrung his handkerchief sweetly and stammered out his wild confession. “Ms. Coccoros, you see, I am sweet on you, well no, that’s not how it is, see, I like you, and painting your fence violet and picking all your wild berries on your property, that was right aimed at getting closer to you, not….not Keira.” As he pushed out this confession the portly Keira was rounding the banister and the frame creaked from her indulgent corpulence. “BUH HUH HUH BAHHH” she sobbed and pounded steps back up to her room. Ms. Coccoros threw the basket of freshly picked blackberries onto the ground and stamped them in a sweetly controlled rage. “NOW YOU SEE HERE MR. LOWBUSH-” she began and took a deep pull of boysenberry liqueur “I am a distinguished women, whose daughter happens to have a glandural problem. You sir can take your sweet nothings and cast off.” Jacob picked a stray seed from his navy blue cumberbun and lowered his head sweetly. He would return after she drained the contents of the berry liqueur and get up in those jammy jams.

Central Waters Fifteen, Because Sometimes that 14 month barrel aging just isn’t enough, you need older.

March 22, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Some of you may remember way back in the day when I slayed Fourteen14fouRteeeen and may be wondering “why the fuck even bother? Isn’t this just the same beer aged in barrels for a little bit longer?” And yes, you would be correct in that picayune, but here at DDB we have a completionist mentality. If there is some tan wale out there making wavez, I am going to slay it even if it only slightly rocks my boat. This was a 1800 bottle release, but people be acting like this is some Hill Farmstead 180 bottle release.

If you ever want to land a midwest wale, just use this simple formula:

Take your current beer, multiply the bottle count by 10, cut the cost in half, and pretend you bought it at a BevMo. You now will be in the correct mindstate to trade with someone from Illinois.

For example, you want this 1800 bottle, 15$ banger?

Hill Farmstead Norma would be a 7500 bottle release, $10, available off the shelf, so you better add something to land this midwest wale.

About to John 3:16 the fuck out of a midwest hypemachine.

Enough pontificating about hypothetical shit, let’s see if this is worth the hype.

Just laying there all flaccid not giving a shit, no foam or sticky lacing.

Central Waters Brewing Company
Wisconsin, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.00% ABV

A: This looks basically the same at 1414, I mean, you aren’t taking this beer out to a sea food dinner. It is all murky and exhibits that classic Central Waters “why the fuck is this so thin” sort of ambivalence that you have come to expect from their BB Stout and BB Barleywine, so why should their anniversary beer be any different? This looks a lot like Parabola, if Parabola had a defective cap and let the carb out and had way less residual coating to it. You know, just shittier really.

Barrels make most beers better so more time makes good beers better unless it is this beer, hmmm. Paradox detected.

S: This comes out swinging with a bourbon haymaker that almost dominates all other aspects of this beer. It has that sticky sweet caramel sort of vanilla overload in its presentation that some older vintages of Four Roses seem to exhibit and this beer is all barrel. I don’t say that in the Kuhnhenn way, I mean that the base beer is so thin that it is like when Persian people put huge ass ionic/doric/neoclassical columns in front of their tiny houses and the complete lack of balance is evident. This also has a melted tootsie roll, milk chocolate, whoppers, and movie candy sort of backend to it that is really pleasant, yet toes the line of the beetus that Dark Lord loves to serve up. Note, this beer is worlds better than DERK LERD so don’t get it twisted.

After all the hype, tasted this beer and my face be all like

T: This is so heavy on the barrel that you wonder what the base beer even tasted like at this point. It goes heat, caramel, marshmallow, cadburry creme egg, chocolate, rolo, sixlet, and finishes with a huge blast of Buffalo Trace sort of candy dryness to it. Again, the lack of balance just kinda makes you long for a Parabola, since they seem so comparable in theory. This would be right in the world class leagues with that accessible ass Parabola, if not for its lack of char, roast, tobacco, or complexity beyond cocoa sweetness and straight up bourbon. This is still a great beer, but a huge caveat is warranted before I go getting people all throbbing at the shaft to trade for this.

M: This is exceedingly thin and perhaps the lengthy barrel treatment mellowed out some of the residual sugars or the complexity. The sheeting is minimal and thankfully, the heat from the bourbon is not as hot as the flavor profile, otherwise you would have some crazy Chevy Nova II with a big ass engine and no stability to balance this beast out. There was a stickiness on the backend like you ate a shitload of Hershey’s bars, but again it wasn’t a diabetic bomb in sum.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable in the way that the Pacers are exceedingly watchable, but you dont exactly fall in love with either. If this were more accessible, I would probably give it high marks for the ambitious barrel time and bourbon forward character, but this elusive beast is like the opposite of the Foothill Brewing “4 months in a barrel” philosophy and suffers as a result. I think in this instance the time in the barrel hardened this stout into a straight lifer, spending time in the SHU, shanking other stouts in the shower. Shit like that. If Foothill and Central Waters did a collabo, shit would turn out JUUUUUSTTT RIGHT, straight Goldilocks style.

Put a beer in a barrel for long and it gets worse? Pic related.

Put a beer in a barrel for longer and it gets worse? Pic related.

Narrative: I was going to put together a narrative about a guy who took too long to graduate from undergrad and parallel it to his inability to function in society, i.e. referencing barrel time and shit, but oh well, here is a list of my favorite things beer nerds say on forums, feel free to add your own in the comments section of my webzone:

“It isn’t the bottle count, it’s how many traders bought it that creates the value, that being said, can I interest you in a BA Abraxas?”

“Yeah, b1 was better, i feel like at release this beer had fallen off”

“GREAT TRADER ALERT< Hopmolester69 sent me all the agreed upon beers AND SOME EXTRAS!"

"hey guize, let's compare this hoppy red ale and this borderline triple IPA, WHICH ONE DO YOU LIKE MORE THOUGH?"

"Lol I don't even need Citra when I can just buy Lagunitas Maximus off the shelf! You traders are suckers!"

"This King Henry has notes of chocolate, char, roast, tobacco, and leather. I don't drink barleywines but I am confident that this is a perfect example of an english barleywine."

"WHAT WAS THE BEER THAT STARTED YOUR LOVE FOR CRAFT BEER? also how do i use the search function?"

"This waiter/server/bartender did not even know the alkaline properties of the water profile of a beer they were serving HAS ANYONE ELSE ENCOUNTERED REALLY IGNORANT SERVICE WHILE ORDERING A BEER????"

"I know this beer was sent to 13 states and had a 13,000 bottle count, but my section 8 liquor store only got 2 cases, SO IT IS RARE TO ME! ISO: Ann"

"Anyone had this 2 year old coffee stout, CBS, IT IS DRINKING AMAZING RIGHT NOW, coffee and bourbon are finally gone!"

Perennial Abraxas SHOOTOUT: REGULAR versus BARREL AGED, My Body Is Ready

March 20, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Ever since this god damned barrel aged Abraxas came out, beer nerds have not shut the fuck up about this beer. It was released in the midwest, which made shit even worse because it is not NASCAR season and people living in the freezing cold dont have shit else to do but wonder what those size 11 women look like under those North Face jackets. So today let’s just economize a bit: no narrative, no bullshit, just direct and to the point, WHICH ABRAXAS IS BEST? Someone from Florida will probably chime in with a tired ass joke like “HUNA IS THE BEST ABRAXAS!1!!” and we all nod and he sits back in his desk and goes back to learning his times tables and shit.

Let’s get this stupid ass review over with already.

REGULAR ASS VERSION:
Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.00% ABV

BALLER ASS 564 BOTTLE RELEASE INSTAWHALE GIMMIE ALL YOUR CHURCHILLS VERSION:
Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.00% ABV

Technically only 500 bottles were really released since one dude went and scooped up like 80 bottles, but, we all know about that story. I will leave the rest to conjecture/autoeroticism.

Regular on the left, BA on the right, zero fucks given in the middle.

Appearance:

I am not even doing this, they look almost exactly the fucking same. Seriously. It is like when people ask about the look of Goose Island Rare versus BCBS, I want to be like, are you fucking kidding? Ok for some reason, barrel aged version has a little bit more carbonation, but we are talking minimal amounts to begin with. This beer isn’t winning any beauty contests on either front. It is flaccid, lays there all dark and calculating. If you did a cuvee of Abyss and Huna you’d get the idea. Dark ass mocha foam, looking all like a coffee drink you drop $4.75 on. The sheeting is massive and if you are a wine asshole, “THE LEGS ON BOTH ARE SPLENDID!”

ALL MY TRADING PARTNERS ARE DEAD.

Smell:

Regular Ass: This is kinda vegetal, deep roast, some kinda bell pepper and ancho thing going on with no cinnamon to speak of, or really any spices up in that moshpit of roast and char. Go dice up some onion and toss it into a Surly Darkness, boom, you have smelled regular Abraxas. Perfect beer to drink at a Quincinera.

Baller tits: This is like a bowl of fucking Cinnamon Toast Crunch, it is sweet with no real peppers going on, no real bourbon going on either. It smells like what I imagine that Bimbo factory smells like, you know that place that makes all the treats that our migrant workers eat? That place. It is sugar and cinnamon and there should be a cartoon Frog on the front of the bottle talking about whole grains. It is straight up cereal beer. Cut up some rails of State Fair churros and snort those bitches, you just smelled Baller Tits Abraxas.

Taste:

Pedestrian Ass: This carries that roast in a serious way and gives a deep char with some drying smoked malts, bakers chocolate, faint hints of clove in the middle and it finishes with this vegetable/pepper/mole sauce sort of thing that is interesting, but not especially inviting. I mean, most escorts can probably tell some crazy stories about trips to the clinic, but you dont want to spend more than an hour with them.

Rainmaker Version: Again, this is like a completely different beer. This is not like the Baldwins where one is kinda good and the other is totally shitty, it’s like Ron Howard and his weird ass brother, you can’t even believe these two beers are related. There is no real bourbon presence on this beer, but the cinnamon and sweet brown sugar comes raging in, there is a crackle to the spices and maybe that is the peppers in the subterfuge, it is hard to say. If you like Horchata and use a prepaid cell phone, you will probably like drinking this. The perfect beer to drink while standing in line for your EBT benefits.

Just sit in waiting, be patient, they will make more, if people have sense next year’s release will not be like this. PATIENCE MY PREDATORS.

Mouthfeelings:

Approachable Version: This is a pretty standard affair with the exception of a tingly heat on the backend from the peppers that gives the beer a sort of deadening sensation to the gumline and bottom lip, but nothing too insane across the board. This beer seriously reminds me of a Darkness variant, like if they gave it a spoiler or packed in some breadsticks to jazz it up. Ultimately, this is nothing too earth shattering and I would not trade for this again, not as long as Parabola is sitting on a shelf for way less urethra stretching.

Juicy J version: The mouthfeel has none of that peppery complexity and just keeps it hard in the paint with cinnabon stickiness, girl from the mall kiosk be peeping on your palate and your khaki stained teeth, wanting to flatiron your hair. There is no alcoholic heat on this, but there’s also no bourbon either. Maybe they adhere to the Foothill Brewing school of barrel aging where 16 weeks is PLENTY of time for that beer to get those complex nuances. At any rate, it made the cinnamon more pronounced. Some assholes will probably come in here like “THAT WAS THE VANILLA AND OAK INTEGRATION THAT MADE THE CINNAMON POSSIBLE-” or some shit, don’t care, it tastes like a bear claw. Fucking donut beer, Rogue eat your buttholes out.

Overall/Drinkability:

EBT Version: This is certainly more drinkable than the cinnamon monster, but at what cost? SimCity is a more “playable” game than Assassin’s Creed 3, but spending 8 hours of my life doing menial shit isn’t exactly a mark of greatness. Sure I could drink more of the regular version, but the BA version is interesting for the limited time I would want to have it. Crazy Parking Lot Sex versus Latter Day Saint Stability. Which do you want out of your bell pepper beer?

Gucci Mane Stacks: This version is heavier, stickier, has this inertia of spices and Big Red gum, and is overall not as approachable but if I had to take a pour of either, I would go for the BA version simply because I would be able to remember it more, point it out in a lineup, tell the jury where on the doll that it touched me. That sorta shit.

WINRAR: Barrel Aged Version is the overall winner.

You look at these bottles and think you are on some epic Golem shit, then you realize it was just steam the midwest blew into your lower colon

You know who the overall losers are? The people giving up shit like Norma, Churchills Finest Hour, and Nooner for bottles of BA Abraxas. If you have had Mexican Cake or Huna, you seriously don’t need to chase this one down, and def. dont give up any Loonz for it. It is my suspicion that the people who OMG FUCKING LOVED THIS BEEER!!1!! are the ones who had a 2oz pour while standing in line, checking into Untappd, or some other shit. If you sit down and drink a solid 10+oz of this beer, you will not want more. I LIVED THROUGH THIS.

Oh Great, Another Fucking Ancient Recipe Beer.

March 19, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

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

More stupid fucking rebrews of ancient ales

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

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

God.

Fucking.

Damnit.

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

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

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

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

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

GUEST REVIEW: Three Floyds Topless Wytch, Pagan worshippers straight stacked

March 18, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

HOW CAN I BE ANY FUCKING LAZIER? This site is already the post-bike ride taint of the beer world, but now I am farming out my own shitty beer reviews to legitimately talented writers? You get what you pay for on this site OKAY. Today’s guest review is the same contributor from the Lawsons Kiwi Double IPA Review aka Hevvymetalhippie. Thank you for your work, now I can chase down diabetes in peace. I will give him the floor:

How apropos to be reviewing this beer during one of the last snowfalls of the winter, it doesn’t get more metal than this beer. Not only are there a pentagram, an inverted cross, and an axe on the “death metal band font” label, but…titties! Besides, what is best in life? Answer: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women. I’ve been waiting to drink this beer for months; this Wytch isn’t topless, say the titties is out.

Tatties straight blasting harder than the Four Play label. NSFW beer.

Three Floyds Brewing
Munster, IN
Baltic Porter || 9.00%

Appearance: Even a hard pour couldn’t get a head to form on this godless harlot. If anything there’s a thin and tight ring of bubbles, that quickly vanish to a scant ring around a mysterious coffee black body. Why you gotta be so triflin’! When I set a burning bible behind the glass, looking through the darkness to the other side, deep shades of burgundy and garnet reflect from the glass…robey tones braj…robey tones. And for the record, no lacing, this wytch is topless remember
guise!? CWUTIDIDTHAR?

I looked closer at that label and wuz all lyke-

Smell: On the initial pour bakers chocolate, bitter coffee and sweet malt are as
obvious, but much like the letter art on the label, not all is what it seems. To qualify
as a Baltic Porter, a higher ABV must be created to withstand travel to the “Baltic”
regions, as well as being bottom fermented at lower temperatures. A slight vinous
character emerges from the briny deep as well, perhaps an unholy note of satanic
raisns.

Taste: If it smells like a wytch, looks like a wytch, then its PROBABLY A FUCKING
WITCH! This beer is awesome, straight up. A lot translates over from the nose,
but richer and sweeter as it warms. It’s probably sucking my soul out Dementor
style like a golf ball through a garden hose…yeah think about that. If 3 Floyds ever
decided to barrel age these, or better yet do barrel aged variants of this, they’d have
a line down the street of beer geeks willing to sell their souls for this potential insta-
Whale. I see bourbon barrel, port, or even cognac going over very well.

This beer might be deemed sexually offensive and offputting to women, but ladies be loving dem imperial porters tho.

Mouthfeel: While thinking of how to make a joke about doing body shots of Topless
Wytch off a topless witch and how hedonistically aristocratic I felt sitting amongst
a pile of recently traded beers, I couldn’t help but notice how badly I wanted this
to be a thick witch. If only it had gone further down the road into stoutsville; well
I guess it’d just be a barrel aged imperial stout; fuck me right? Some people like
their women like they like their stouts: thick and fudgy. AMIRITE? Hey where’s
everybody going?

Drinkability/Overall: I accidently a whole Topless Wytch…is this bad? Over a
prolonged and more civilized drinking session; like a respectable adult would have,
not some college frat bro drink-a-thon shit show, where I’m sucking down beer like
a man-titted bridge troll whose life depended on it; I realize that my beer nerd rage
wants, and rash judgments might be a tad hasty. This is an excellent beer, another
world-class offering from 3 Floyds. I have come to the realization that drinking
amazing beer regularly has clouded my judgment on what is actually a good beer
and what is a phenomenal beer. It’s tough isn’t it? #firstworldproblems. It could
be enhanced if they bumped the ABV up, tossed that topless bitch in a barrel like
she deserves and let her out some months later, but it’s also excellent all on its
own. Satanic imagery, evil letter art, tits, a Norwegian Black Metal album, and one
amazing beer later, I’m ready to sign my name into the black book of death, if this is
any predicator of things to come.

Ultimately it is a porter, it is a non-imperial stout, black ale, fuck if I can explain what this is.

Narrative: It had been three weeks since Lydia had seen the sun. Her skin, pallid and
milky had been untouched by the light of day, her purple blue veins read like a map,
roads down her arms and into her hands. Inside the cemetery catacombs, the need
for clothes had become moot; the temperature often soared leaving the mausoleum
sweltering in the mid-day Louisiana sun, causing her to venture deeper into the
dark vaults, bereft of clothes. Further she walked, blindly and topless into the earth,
hand upon the wall, beyond the oldest portions of the grave until she reached the
terminus of the pit. There upon the roughly hewn ledge lay her prize, the Black
Book! It had taken her years to find its final resting place, but here it was and here
she was. Warm to the touch, the book was waiting for her, to inscribe her name into
it, and cast it from the book of life. Perhaps now she would feel the satisfaction, the
comeuppance in unlife that she so desperately desired in life. Lydia was becoming a
witch.

@tiredhandsbeer Hophands, for when you done working at the dispensery and your hands be smelling all like sticky cones

March 15, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Tired Hands week is wrapping up and we have seen all kinds of things in the interim, oyster stouts, saisons, pale ales, so how do we close this one out? We go to the old hoppy wheelhouse and consult a draft only classic: NOW TOGETHER IN ONE CONVENIENT PACKAGE. Some naysayers hate on the hoppy saison genre and say that it betrays the musk and nuanced Belgian profile. Other hop heads feel that the base of a saison is too substantial and interferes with the hop oil experience. FUCK BOTH OF THOSE GUYS. Today we are going cones deep into some fertile soil with a straight up hoppy American Pale Ale.

EDIT TO MY PRIOR POST: I did not review this shit previously, I am a drunk pre-diabetic idiot. The cage match was between Singel Hop and Regular FARMHANDS.

Oh shit, picking all these juniper berries and then wiping petrulli oil on myself, hands be all hoppy.

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Pale Ale (APA) | 5.20% ABV

A: The beer pours with nice carbonation albeit very little lacing, a turbid deep orange and almost amber color. The beer has generous big bubbles and eschews the microfine carbonation that you might anticipate in a bottle conditioned beer. It kinda reminds me of a mix of pineapple and orange juice with the yellow and orange blend look to it.

The interplay between the resin and the citrus aspects of this beer shows some serious fucking hop team work.

S: Holy hell, if Entropic was the gentle APA brother who spends time in his room working on interpretive dance, this is the jock asshole hop brother who rolls in an IROC Camaro and socks nerds. This is incredibly resinous and hits the familiar APA zones of pine, lupulin, orange zest i.e. the white part, there is a Jamba Juice wheatgrass aspect to this and closes with a citrus tangelo REREREREREEEEMIXXXX on the backend. There is a ton of feels packed into the smell, if you know what I mean.

T: This imparts more of the citrus than I was expecting from the nose but carries itself confidently through the halls of lupus gaiety. You get a pineapple and tangerine sweetness at the front which fades into a deeper pinecone and dry finish with the oils leaving you both satisfied but wanting another sip because that sweet citrus opener is a hard act to follow. It’s like when AFI opened for Blink 182 in the late 90’s and you were all like “what, how did this. wait.”

At a certain point, taking a simple beer like a pale ale to these heights is borderline obsessive.

M: This is incredibly light and shines as an APA and does not toe that questionable ass genre crossing line like Zombie Dust does. This is hoppy to def with fishtanks in the Civic because Tired Hands pimped their ride with hop cones in the rims. I love the interplay between straight up water and intense hops, the malts are like an abused child getting transferred back and forth in custody battles. The real victim is your bitter zones, you can smoke one of these growlers with a quickness and wonder why your Fedex bills are so high. If that is a drawback, THEN SIGN ME UP.

D: This is not quite as drinkable as Entropic, but strong in different ways. I wouldn’t say this is one of the crowning achievements of the APA realm like Hoppy Birthday or Zombie Dust, but it maintains an exceptional character of residual hops, drinkability, and just straight up vibrant citrus tones that I have not had in any bottle pale ale, to say the absolute least. This is incredibly drinkable and makes me have so many sads that I can’t just go drain this on the regular like Beachwood Alphamaster or something local and amazing. This APA fills an amazing void in the world of resctum stretching stouts and acidic sours always raping your mouthhole. This APA is like a gentle hand holding sessions, blowing dandelions in a field, a light hoppy kiss on the cheek that anyone would be down for.

Drink pale ales once in a while, you dont need to be a tiny dicked bad ass all the time.

Narrative: Trent Kim had a problem that not many could associate with: his banter was too damn pleasant. He had seen several sociolinguists as a child and, during the testing phases he had affected them in such a genial way that they simply dismissed him as playful. It was a clear disability though, Trent had inadvertently coasted through elementary school accidentally coaxing all of his teachers and beguiling all officials with his Godlike gift of bonhomie. Once, when he was 14 Trent came home after driving his parents car to a liquor store, to purchase crack cocaine. He lowered his head in shame when his mother asked “TRENT WHERE DID YOU-” “I know mother, I know exactly what I did wrong, I can’t justify my actions and-” suddenly his mom began peeling a ripe orange and bit into it and exclaimed “oh WHATS A LITTLE CRACK COCAINE FOR A GROWING BOY! I can’t stay mad at you Trent!” The haggard companion in a vinyl skirt was both in awe, and clearly a cheap prostitute that Trent had plied into giving him a handjob for free. Being this likable would be his downfall someday, but for now Trent bit into an orange slice and tossed his back of crack on the kitchen counter.

@tiredhandsbeer Artisnale Oyster Stout brewed with Escargot shells, THIS IS MAKING MY SNAIL COME OUT OF ITS SHELL

March 14, 2013 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright stay with me here, I know this is a little crazy, oyster stout brewed with snail shells? I guess I should preface this entire review by saying 1) I don’t like oyster stouts in general and 2) I don’t eat snails, unless I am in a third world country and I am doing it for the lulz to show them I am just like thems. That being said, I will skull any beer and have zero regrets, well ok maybe SOME REGRETS.

But let’s bust these shells wide open and suck out the juices in today’s review.

snails poppin slugs at those haterzzz

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Stout | 7.80% ABV

A: The carbonation on this beer is legendary and even the slightest agitation takes it to pre-menstrual levels of anger. I know it looks like I poured this like an asshole, but srs, I was pediatrician gentle with it and it still was all rustled. The slick “light black” inkiness of the beer seems almost deep brown in a way, compared to most imperial stouts that are darker than Satan’s magic. The head is absurd and straight out of a Juicy J video, all dark and excessive.

if you drink this stout, chances are you aren’t a complete piece of shit. Pic related.

S: This has a really sweet tootsie roll sort of waft to the smell, light roast, baker’s chocolate, and a sort of milk chocolate aspect to it on the nose. The hops are really restrained an almost seem to be well integrated with the char of the malts. I will say at the very back end there is this sort of longshoreman brine meets salts sea captain sort of thing going on that almost reminds me of a jar of nickels. It is not all up in the spotlight but the imperial oyster aspects are in the background, spinning salty jams for everyone to rage to.

T: The foregoing is continued and sustained with a sweetness at the outset that is at first almost offputting like some “imperial” stouts from England where you just lul at them for trying, being all turbinado and sticky. But then out of nowhere off the high ropes fucking brine and this metallic aspect comes in and drops ‘bows and puts the roast in a figure four. You think the ref is gonna call it, but oh shit, the snail shell aspect just smashed him with a folding chair. Things get out of hand really quick, but strangely, I had a hard time putting it down because I was fascinated by it.

if you are drinking imperial oyster stouts, chances are you aren’t a complete beta bitch in the permafriend zone. pic related.

M: This has one of the craziest mouthfeels from a stout that I have experienced in a long time. I am assuming that the inclusion of the escargot shells imparted a huge calcium and alkaline boost to the water profile because the water is super hard in this mix. After you swallow, the sugars dont even linger on your teeth and you get this sort of lip smacking aspect that is strange from a stout. This too reminds me of those UK stouts with a really gentle mouthfeel and dainty carbonation, this paired with the crazy sweet meets salty aspects leave me perplexed and straight draining the bottle.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable with the caveat that you must be able to tolerate some sweetness, hard water, and a light brackishness to your stouts. This might be a deal breaker for most people, but I was intrigued by it and finished this with celerity. For not liking the style itself, I would wager that this is about as awesome as this genre can get while still being on style. It’s like having the world’s fastest hybrid in a way, certain concessions will be inherently present within the confined of the category.

for an 8% beer, you hit this beer and this beer hits back.

Narrative: Penelope Brigston slid lazily across the wet concrete and soaked in the misty Seattle morning. The dew from last night gave a nice moisture profile to Vicksburg street and her stomachfoot embraced the pavement with calculating execution. She slowly passed the smashed earthworms, those annelida too ambitious to restrain themselves from walking right into traffic. Penelope felt a small disconnect with the suburban street and thought about all of her taxonomic brethren, such diversity in her family and yet she was alienated from all of them. Hell, she hardly ever wrote to her sea mollusk family anymore and the better part of her days were consumed in either eating fescue or licking Tootsie Roll wrappers. Busy days all around. Her radula worked assiduously tearing apart a discarded piece of romaine lettuce and she savored the metallic taste of the sardines and salt in the dressing. It was a hazy morning but Penelope would face life with both antennae forward, living life out of her shell as much as possible.

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Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

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