Category Archives: beer

3

Green Flash Silva Stout, Double Stout Got Thinner and Got All Into Red Wine, Like a Recent Divorcee

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Back when I set out to complete the top 100, this beer gave me a ton of trouble to lock down for some reason. Perhaps it was the fact that I was trading with people in SD and they didn’t want any of my petty wares, maybe it was because it hasn’t been released in a while. Who knows, either way, MrHrschybar finally make my boyish dreams come true by hooking me up with this.

Just illegally enjoying a beer right in front of Bruery Provisions. NBD. DDB – 1, City of Orange – 0.

Green Flash Brewing Co.
California, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.10% ABV

A: This has a slick but light cola sheen to it with a light mahogany resonance at the edges. The carbonation was generous and the lacing was nothing really too insane, but mild levels of anxiety are elicited. It looks like a pretty standard affair and borderline imperial porter in appearance if you are all into those kinds of exploits.

Classic beer, historically revered.

S: There is a light coffee and bourbon aspect to the nose, but I also get a tannic presence, not like an infection, more like a merlot grape or something from the oak. You get the base beer coming through in a big way, which is good because Double Stout is pretty solid on its own, but the added leather seats and sunroof really pushes this beer over the top. I wouldn’t say it is as memorable as Parabola, but it is in the same vein and execution.

T: This follows the nose pretty well and imparts cocoa, vanilla, chocolate, and light char. Char so cutty. Again, that port character rears its head for a moment and seems like a Kate the Great sort of throwback, but it is more muted in this beer than in KtG. Everyone gets what they wanted.

Take amazing stout, make it harder to find and more delcious…and thinner. Wat.

M: This is incredibly light and thin on the palate, so much so that it almost distracts from the experience. I could have used a little more heft in the coating, but, complainers gonna complain. I feel like this went the Sexual Chocolate route and got thinner with time aging on oak, strange twists of chemistry.

D: The same reasons that I complained above push this section to alluring new heights. This is an incredibly drinkable beer and the thin nature imparts a slick drinakbility with a huge lingering presence, making you want to drain your wallet and an entire 4 pack. I recommend this, but given my problems landing this earlier, I would say that you could stick to Parabola and/or Abyss and not be slighted in the least.

This beer upgrades regular old Double Stout with sick new nanotech.

Narrative: Narrative: Robert Chalmers wasn’t a jock exactly, he played water polo but didn’t make his life about it. Sure, he was on academic decathelon but he was far from the best on that team either. Ultimately he was a place filling integer, just a cog within the social framework. Ultimately he would meet a normal girl with middle of the road asprirations and purchase a track home. It was his destiny, but he always felt that lingering itch for something beyond formica tile and a kitchen hutch. Alas, ten years have passed and here Robert is, plating rhododendron bulbs and wondering what could have been. He longed for those days on the vineyard soil, running through the loose soil, drinking strong cups of coffee and enjoying deep dark chocolate. Sadly, he could not return and this life of mild obscurity was his remaining fate.

0

Russian River Row 2/Hill 56, Off The Charts Drinkability, Despite Those Annoying Simcoe Hops

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SIMCOE FOR THE HATERS.

Russian River Brewing Company
California, United States
American Pale Ale (APA) | 5.80% ABV

A: It appears like a watered down pliny the elder with a sort of muted yellow and milder golden disposition, everything just feels like spinning a record at 33 rpm instead of 45 rpm. Muted but relaxing.

I am not a good at beer review but I know good pale ale when inside my mouth face.

S: The smell is a vaporous fog of well balanced hops, straight simcoe to the domepiece, but nothing worth writing home about, some mild lemon elements akin to the Bowser Jr. of Pliny the Elder, the misplaced child of Blind Pig. There is a light pine resonance on the backend.

T: the taste is more refreshing but less fulfilling than Bling Pig. It was like they phoned it in to attract a bigger audience or in an attempt to loop catch the hop loving swing state. That doesn’t make sense though because this is incredibly limited. It seems like they made this as a loophole to attract beerlovers only to bait and switch them with a tame product. Maybe some people want tame, fuck if I know, I beat Chrono Trigger and got most of the endings.

This doesn’t flip pale ales inside out, but it is pretty refreshing.

M: Again, save the journal and the bic pen, this will be forgettable if for nothing else than its balance. Ok, if you enjoyed the movie SERENDIPITY and you love plot arcs that are confusing but immediately resolve. Well here is your beer. I felt it shallow and judged it exceedingly hard due to my strict Russian River standards. It’s like shaking your head at a mathlete due to not being able to postulate non-euclidian geometry. It is still good, but not good as I anticipated. There are some interesting peppery notes, but ultimately yawntastic.

D: This is where this beer shines, which always feels like a consolation prize. Drinkability is the “Best Sense of Humor” of the technical awards. While it is amazing and drinkable, this is hard to find, relatively expensive, and forgettable.

pic unrelated.

Narrative: Life as a cummulous cloud is not as glamorous as it seems. Sure you get to cascade across the sky buouyantly, impressing everyone with your majestic airs but ultimately you just end up as Iowa hail or Arizona drinking water. A fleeting life of gliding above the masses with condescending shapes is brought to task quickly with a wamr front or an affront from a mountain range. A world of Bourbon excellence comes crashing down immediately when the chinks in the armor are revealed. Upon further relfection, the cloud is only as majestic as its lasting quality. What previously looked like a flowing turtle now is a malignant sky tumor, descending in both strength and majesty. A child in a stroller looked up at the descending fog and felt it wet her face with a dew of what could have been.

4

Struise 1983 Unblended Dirty Horse, The Whale to End All Horses

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Well it has finally come to this, wales of a certain age. It is not necessarily the whitest whale in the world like say SdM, Dave, or M, but, suffice it to say, it is up there. Let’s just get this out of the way: I received this in a vacuum sealed vial. Everyone was up in arms and the balls tripped were substantial. Second, yes it is a 4 ounce pour. I know I usually give other beer sites a mouthful of shit for small pours and shitty reviews but, I am giving myself an executive pardon, because fuck you. You….you ride the bus. Anyway, let’s get elbows deep in blubber in today’s review:

I was so faded after killing this massive pour, couldn’t drive, couldn’t function.

De Struise Brouwers
Belgium
Lambic – Unblended | 7.00% ABV

What makes this fucking beer so rare and sought out, other than the fact that it is almost 30 years old? Well, Starting with a Lambic grist bill composed of 70% barley malt and 30% unmalted wheat. No yeast was artificially added to the wort, but was exposed for two days to the open air in one of Struise’s plastic tunnels at the Noordhoek Ostrich Farm. First fermentation took place in second hand sherry oak casks for six weeks. 200 grams of Northern cherries per litre and the Roeseleire yeast strain were added after six months, provoking a new fermentation process. Eight months later, we pumped over the young ale to oak casks and let it mature for another 3 years. This project was realized after a tasting of the same recipe Urbain once made 20 years ago and was barrel aging in his garage in De Panne eversince and while he was in Africa and forgot all about it. This version is the original version that he completely forgot about, not the blended version. Gangster.

A: Just look at how beautiful this beer looks. There is a huge garnet meets translucent ruby quality to it. Some people lose their shit when I use “ruby” as an adjective, let’s call him Eric, anyway, that is exactly what it is. Amazingly, it still had a tiny wispy crackle of carbonation that sustained nicely. There was no lacing to speak of but, come on, this beer is 30 years old you perfectionist. This has a look of a framboise meets kriek in the best way possible, like pulling two two lambics at the at the same same damn time (time).

S: This has an amazing raspberry and ripe strawberry aspect to the nose that leans towards fresh Farmers’ Market than the simple juicy acidity that some fruited lambics embrace. There is a deep acidity but the stage that all of this takes place on is a huge musk like the depths of a dog grooming salon. There is this intense attic meets old yearbook funkiness to it that reminds me of the way that Brabantiae took me back to the past. “Comparing one wale to another whale, thanks a lot asshole.” Sorry, that’s the most adept way that I can describe it, beer harder or GTFO.

OPERATION: JIMMY RUSTLING was a complete success.

T: This follows the nose identically and presents a tart cherry acidity at the outset that sublimates into a nice tannic profile and that funky musk follows with an incredible dryness. The pour was so small that I essentially got 5 swallows of this before it was gone, so take all of this as a shittier than usual standard of my other reviews but, that being said, this is easily one of the best lambics that I have ever had, it is more complex than Hommage and more drinkable than Blabaer. This is like the Mechazord of fruited lambics and haters always tryna watch the throne.

M: This is incredibly dry but the light sweetness of the fruit provides relief with the same hand that takes it away. The cobweb and stale dustiness of the backend looks onward from a cherry podium compelling the acidity to push onward, through the annals of time.

whalez in the trap
wale whalez in the trap
wealz in the trap
slaying whalez in the trap

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the funk interplay with the acidity balances this sweet nectar like a Hatori Hanzo sword and this shit will dice you up. I feel like a douchewaffle recommending this or calling it drinkable because if you 1) find a bottle of this and 2) drink it to yourself, you are a dick. Hopefully this review made the pants of beer nerds a lil tighter, if not, I will beer harder.

This beer is mind blowing, wrap your palate around that.

Narrative: The brackish spray of the Caspian Sea blew wispy clouds of mist around the hull of the S.S. ISO:FT$4$IP. Captain Brock Wellington looked out upon the vast expanse of the horizon, ever scanning for the beast that had eluded him so many times before. “Captain! THIS MAKES NO SENSE! We have been searching for over 29 years for this beast in what amounts to the world’s largest lake. There is no way that a whale would still reside here.” Captain Wellington expectorated upon the deck and turned swiftly upon his false leg crudely constructed out of an empty Jereboam bottle. “YOU THINK THIS IS ABOUT A SIMPLE ANIMAL! No Jerves, you misunderstand why we have set out day after day, we are seeking not an animal, but a mythical 30 year old beast, an underwater sea unicorn, FOR HER TEARS ARE THE CHERRY SOBS OF SERAPHIM.” Jerves clutched the round robin in his pocket and knew at that moment that his captain has gone full on batshit. Just then a deep spray gurgled over the starboard side and the air was redolent with raspberries. “THAR SHE BE!” Captain Wellington cried out and watched a mythical filthy horse raise from the depths, flying on dirty ostrich wings, sobbing mournfully with a menacing howl. “MAN THE MAGNUMS! CATCH EVERY LAST DROP!” The crew steered the Manowar deftly and caught the red mist, inhaling liquid magnificence. For a small moment, it was not about the hunt, it was the satisfaction of conquests fulfilled. They pooled together a total of 4 ounces and presented it to their jubilant captain. He slowly sipped the vial to completion and then jumped into the salty depths below. No round robin was necessary, for having tasted the sweet tears of unicorn angels, his life was complete. walesbro.

0

Goose Island Bourbon County Vanilla Brand Stout: PART 3 – Revenge of the Midwest Shelfwales

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Ah those old 13,000 bottle release shelfwales, they have entered our fair community with panache and aplomb that would make even Balzac blush. This has been a noticeable oversight for quite some time and beer nerds have often asked me why this beer of all the variants was so scornfully cast out of the house like a coffee drinking Latter Day Saint. The simple answer is: this is the worst of the BCBS variants. Now it is still BCBS at heart so that is like saying that the Gallardo is the shittiest lambo; it will still get you some lackluster handjobs. Let’s look at what kinda beans this beer is grinding in today’s review:

Oh shit, the elusive non-standard toaster shot. This is like the BCBVS rookie card up in this mix.

Goose Island Beer Co.
Illinois, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 13.00% ABV

A: Get ready for some serious Hitchcock twist to this review: IT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE BCBS. There are no raw pieces of vanilla or flecks of artisnal beans up in this medium. It is just deep dark murky blackness with minimal lacing, light sheeting and carbonation that phones it in harder than the Miami Dolphins. Not a particularly beautiful beer but, whatever, I AM JUST LOOKING TO LAND A BOOS WITH THIS ALRIGHT.

I feel bad for anyone who drops crazy bottles on this in a trade, you know that feel.

S: This is overridingly sweet, not in that Bruery White Chocolate fashion where you give it a playful shove, like so sweet that you ask it to pull over so you can get out. This has the roast and charming marshmallow meets oak profile with coy little chocolate peeking downstairs at mama bourbon wrapping presents, then holy fuck, Papa Vanilla comes home and starts making declarative statements about how he pays that bills and no one respects him. This is just sweet sticky vanilla extract overload that ends up coming across less like an Oreo/Coffee/Chocolate treat, and more like the lipsmackers lip balm from all those chicks you weren’t making out with in 9th grade.

T: This starts out pretty awesome as BCBS is wont to do, then vanilla jumps with its sweet cloying claws like the T1000 getting dragged behind what would have been a pleasant stout journey to Skynet. There’s a chocolate and coffee presence and vanilla adds this Torani syrup quality like drinks from Starbucks that prevents everyone from getting laid, just beanblocking. This beer seriously makes me just want a regular old BCBS and to leave this sticky sweet interloper out of things, a boy can dream.

This beer tries too hard and ends up coming out as a lesser product as a result. JUST BE YOURSELF BCBS, WE LIKE YOU FOR YOU.

M: This has a generous coating and leaves a deep lingering roast, char, sweet milk chocolate and guess who is riding shotgunning, fucking Vanilla, messing with the radio controls making you listen to Static X and other shit you don’t need or want. I am not saying this is worlds worse than even ::gasp:: BRAMBLE, but what I am saying is that, it would have been better if what makes it so desired was left out. No one is pining after megan Fox because she has toe thumbs, its just something you put up with for the rest of the package.

D: This is less drinkable than every other variant and as it warmed I wish I shared this with someone. Again, this is not a bad beer, it is still BCBS at heart, but you just wish it would cool it with the Baskin Robbins sticky sweet overload. The vanilla is distracting and the types of things that this beer is commanding at this point is downright confusing to me, but then again, toottoot shelfwalez only get more rarerer and not less rare, no walez on the train, mixed metaphor leaving the station. vrroooooom.

Disagree with the midwest cadre about one of their crown jewels? Fuck the police.

Narrative: “Ok here he comes, he’s walking up the drivewa- oh no, his cousin Nigel Beansington is with him, everyone get down get ready to yell surprise!” All of Mark’s friends hid in his small one bedroom apartment and could smell Nigel’s sickeningly sweet DKNY APPLE cologne as he entered the room. “AND SO I TOLD THEM IT WOULD BE OBVIOUS TO YOU THAT THEY WERE PLANNING A SURPRISE PART-” “SURPRISE!” the crowd groaned in unison. Nigel had ruined things again. He was sweet enough and it was hard to fault his blissful ignorance but he just always ended up in places that he did not belong. “Ya see? Told ya, surprise party, obvious right?” Nigel quipped and pushed a finger into the uncut birthday cake and ate a dab of frosting. “EWW BUTTERSCOTCH frosting, what is this a COSTCO, oh KIRKLAND, ya KIRKLAND means Costco cake.” The party universally exhaled and reflected how this overpowering asshole ruined what would have been an incredible affair.

3

St. Bernardus Tripel, Last Week Fucked Around Got a Tripel Dubbel

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Here’s a style that doesn’t get enough love from this site, or people in general I feel. For some reason, restaurants always seem to stock this, but rarely quads and even more rarely dubbels. I would trade all the tripels in the world for an army of saisons, but it’s still a legit experience nonetheless. Westmalle is usually the go to for this style, but why not bring old Bernardus up in this bitch, get some diversity going, you damn intolerants.

Last week fucked around and got a tripel dubbel. Today was a good day.

St Bernardus
tripel 8% abv

A: There is a glowing mild gold meets light amber hue to it with some interesting tangerine notes at the edges. It looks good with the carbonation, full lacing and body. The head is relentless, but some people appreciate that obvious euphemism. I am too old for this shit.

You bring up tripels to most beer nerds, their faces be like

S: There are some fruit notes similar to a crisp pear and pineapple. It just feels like someone chopped a granny smith apple in your kitchen while grinding coriander. You know how often that happens. There’s a bready cornbread with honey note to it like a souped up belgian golden.

T: This has a great apple sweetness at the outset that fades into some sticky turbinado sugar and finishes with light hop notes. It is very refreshing and begins to take the Rhineland back for the Tripel as my forgotten favorite. There’s a great biscuit malt quality and light muskiness to it, with a sort of light plastic finish, but it isn’t bothersome.

I drink beers, say things, sometimes I get free boxes from people.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on anymore.

M: I usually neglect this style for quads but this shows me what I have been missing. Most people love their Saisons, love their Gueuze, love their quads, yet this is a great example of the style. It is not quite any of the foregoing, but it is so much more as a result. Very thin but just presents a bevy of experience like an overstated 8th grade science fair exhibit: your suspicions of parental involvement are present but unconfirmed.

D: This has a crisp light body with a pineapple juiciness. Additionally, there are some apple juice notes and very refreshing grapefruit character that resulted in the genre standard ten percent. If I could forgo deep dark fruits, I would return to the old tripel from the quad chestnut. It is great but I can’t place if it is great within the style or just a reminiscent return to an old favorite. Just second to Westmalle, I would say this is the iconic flavor that you think of, that belgian clove and spice underpinning with a golden frothiness.

This is an exceptional beer that is strange, yet familiar at the same time.

Narrative; No one buys these old YOUTH PROGRESSIVE FICTION TITLES. “I knew when I started,” Albert Ranking thought to himself, “if only I had written a self help book, or a book on mild economics, a memoir, or even a self aware survey of publishers’ rights, I would have been swooped up immediately.” The Avion Newsprint stand couldn’t move his books out of O’Hare Airport but by a parable. Albert stared at his books just sitting there, unthumbed, unmolested by the general public. “Why oh why would they prefer the less salacious books about Dragon Tattoos and Hungry Gamers?” He couldn’t understand why his book about an internal revolution of the metamorphic versus the igneous beds of rock was not selling. “Kids love geology, kids love revolution with their anarchy signs, how did these old stables get overlooked?” He folded his arms knowing that one day, the public would come around and his sigh simultaneously aligned with Thomas Pynchon in his resolve awaiting the return of post-modernism.

0

Founder’s Backwoods Bastard, A brewery I love meets a style that I hate

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I enjoy almost all of Founder’s releases, so long as no one brings up Cerise. I figured I would grind the stones of one of the most reputable breweries and review a style that is completely offputting to me for maximum lulz. If you are one of those shitstains that actually loves scotch ales, maybe you won’t empathize with today’s review, hey, even I was misguided enough to love amber ales at one point. No one is perfect.

Torani syrup be creepin, tempting me to make a vanilla variant all up in this bitch.

Founders Brewing Company
Michigan, United States
Scotch Ale / Wee Heavy | 10.20% ABV

A: dark caramel color with hues of deep blood red amber, moderatee carbonation, one finger head with light lacing. If you like the color of pennies in a coinstar machine, this beer is for you. Maybe it is just my distrust of the Wee Heavy empire, but something about this style just looks dull and unappealing to me. Shine up that armor Daedalus, show a lil scottish luster.

You go into this expecting one thing, and confusion ensues.

S: there’s an intense cherry and alcoholic sweetness, very sweet on the nose, lots of turbinado sugar with notes of caramel, no surprise here you get some bourbon, caramel sweetness, and oak dominates as this thing warms up. Again, this is certainly its own style but it makes me long for an English Barleywine or even a light old ale.

T: in the front of the beer is a slightly smoky sweetness, caramel notes, hops are understated but well done, just enough to balance out the sugar blast of the malt, again, this may be a problem with the style, but it just feels like candy water, with not enough complexity to justify it. Definitive beet sugar and slight boozy note that gives a little warmth on the palate, the oak is pervasive throughout with vanilla and bourbon notes on the backend. I once knew a dude who physically cut the top of his Oldsmobile Cutlass off, it’s bold moves like that that some people love, this is a bold move into dubious territory.

Ultimately, this offering might be a bit too strange for me, despite the grounding in novel territory

M: for all the bourbon, oak, vanilla, and caramel cherry notes, youd figure that it would have a malty chewiness to it, but that is not the case, it is surprisingly thin. A noteworthy hybrid between a belgian quad and an amber, with the boring effect that a cross-section of those two would produce. It’s Punnett’s square, recessive edition. Again, if you love this style, it is dead on for the style and pretty much as good as it gets for this genre, no alerections inspired by this offering.

D: Very drinkable and boasts a ton of diversity. I could give this to plenty of friends in a lot of different situations, illegal timbering, amateur meth lab creation, ice road trucking, all kinds of stuff. Does something being diverse make it good? Well I guess in the way your tomboy girlfriend can feel at home in a summer dress or equally gangly in wrangler cutoff jean shorts: diversity.

It’s like a blend of two familiar things, with strange results.

Narrative: You could feel the idle particles of dust drape upon you bit by bit, your unused glass with a wanting pallor for the warm touch of active paper. They knew what you were when they took you home from Staples: An All In One. Sure you’re not not exceptional at scanning, what with your plastic internal parts, but YOU CAN DO IT. Sure you may not print the best photos with your blotchy low quality ink, but IT CAN BE DONE. Faxing? You’ve got that covered, in a halfhearted, paper jam, off-contrast sorta way. But it is still faxing. The perfect package for a man who needs to a variety of things, very little of the time. Oh, here comes a formidible 5th grade sciene projec- oh I see, they just opted to take a picture with their camera phone and email it to themselves instead of your very capable scanning parts. Perhaps variety is the spice of life, but boring needless diversity, that’s more like UC Davis.

0

Russian River Supplication BATCH ONE REVIEW, For those times when you need to prove you straight whaling.

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Here’s a top 100 that I have lovingly overlooked for a while, like that sweet middle child whom you neglect the shit out of. Anyway, I am sure all of my readers have had this beer so I decided to bust a straight up GALEN OLD SCIENCE TWIST ON YOU: BATCH 1. That’s right, we dusted off the genie bottle for today’s review. You are welcome.

I hope you enjoy my instagramme` photo. I have had Supplication plenty of times, but I washed out this photo to show that I had it before it was cool. Back then wild ales were just called beers, you wouldn’t understand their early work

Russian River Supplication
American Wild Ale – 7% abv

A: Thick three finger head wit a red character to it, light amber with plenty of carbonation, well at first, then it reduces down to nothing. Age has not treated the beauty of this beer favorably and the saggy lactic malt tits are in need of a lift. There is sediment bouncing lazily throughout the glass, but it’s like old salty grandma from the 2008’s, you just nod and smile.

Berries be banging. Just wanna get my face all up in it.

S: There are tart sour notes of bitter cherry and merlot. there’s a funk to it, a bit of wet dog, but a sweet wet dog, in taste, not disposition. There is a nice lactic backbone to this but it has obviously mellowed quite a bit into a gentle juiciness with light oxidation on the nose. There is a bit of oxidation, but not straight up breakdancer levels. I can only imagine how fucking geriatric Depuration is at this point if this beer smells like this. Send me a bottle, be a homie.

T: Sweet introductory flavor with a strong wave of bitter tartness that is resonant of a sour patch kid, but refined with an aged pinot noir, the taste moves swift with incredible balance, the hops are so minor that they serve more as an escort to serperate the flavors than to impart authority, again the main perk is the incredible balance of sour with the underlying sweet. Above when I mentioned the hops, understand that to mean the straight up poltergeist of where the hops used to be. It is like their presence is the shattered shell of tame wild ale tempered in Hephaestus’s cool cauldron of time. This is incredibly gentle and subtle. It reminds me of muted elder vintages of Rodenbach that have funny stories to tell about the depression and when gas used to cost $1.45.

I popped this old ass vintage at Beer Revolution in Oakland and just straight posted up like a boss. I later opened Behemoth and BA Behemoth and people started taking pics of my trash. Fucking casuals.

M: The mouthfeel is just malty enough to carry the sediment and sweet dryness of the beer, any more and it would become a decadent fruit overload, any less and it would travel to a forgettable cider, the perfect balances makes this beer fantastic without overstaying its welcome. The taste imparts a swift jab of sour notes and then quickly resides, like a berry sniper. Compared to fresh Supplication, this is downright neighborly.

D: Some people may feel that the sweet notes are not high enough and the sour creates a poor man’s wine experience, I couldn’t disagree more. This is incredibly drinkable, not in the power hour sense, in a strictly delightful sense, the type that makes you wish for a couple bombers of, or a huge wallet to acquire these gems. This would find itself equally at home on a boat in the sun, or after a ski trip in the lodge. Incredibly drinkable. Then again, finding several bottles of this batch 1 gem would be a feat in itself. When this was sitting on shelves you were still perfecting your fingerbanging technique. At least Russian River got somewhere with their discipline.

Some vintage beverages are too dank for forget.

Narrative: The clicking roll and an L2 against an L3 vertebrae makes a percussive click clack with a certain panache that only Briscoe Wellingstone, berryspy extraordinaire can evoke. Some errant sour juice dribbles from the guard’s mouth, but Kiwis weren’t fit to guard a hostile embassy. He was hired as a young tart currant, trained in the most hostile vineyards, and was raised a pedigree in solitude for 15 months. Only this sour aging could create an agent of such brackish authority, such swiftly petulany candor, bitterly imparting a smooth sourness to the political fruit world. He rounds the foyer of the Tropicanaria, resolute to steal the famed cherry pit of Largesse. A hardened fruit son of a bitch, but with a slippery smoothe discountenance, lovable, yet stern in his demeanor. Mr. Wellingstone peppers the security cameras during an arching slide across the marble flooring. The pit was obtained, a sour finish left in the museum curator’s mouth.

0

Halfacre Brewing Company Daisy Cutter Pale Ale, NOW WE ARE TALKING SRS MIDWEST WALEZ

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I hate this beer. Well, that isn’t accurate, the beer is pretty decent and mildly refreshing. But the Chicago hype machine made me hate this canned asshole before I even tried it. Day in and day out on the trading forums I used to see insane trade requests for this beer and its IPA brother, Double Daisy Cutter. It is like, you know how Tool is an amazing band, but their fans are largely mouthbreathing gun enthusiasts? That’s how it is with this beer. I like the product itself, just not the annoying cadre that follows it around. Anyway, let’s do this shit.

inb4 “NICE COFFEE MAEKER” Beer nerds love to play the “what’s in the background” game.

Half Acre Beer Company
Illinois, United States
American Pale Ale (APA) | 5.20% ABV

A: very expansive carbonation that subsides quickly to a limited head. The carbonation is the tip of the iceberg for this frustrating beer, gutting all your schooners from the outset. I want a refreshing NASCAR beer, this is some gaseous burpy mess that takes longer than a Feminine Studies major to get its shit together. It is light yellow, pale urine gold with a nice transparency.

just a gentle romp in the weeds with our uncomfortable ass friend, Daisy Cutter.

S: a cloying sweetness with notes of rice and sugary malt, the watery profile is noteworthy and smells crisp and light with a pronounce hop presence, but again, this isn’t something that you could pick out of a crowd from say another midwest WALE like Finch’s Cutthroat Pale Ale or 8-bit. They are all solid, refreshing beers, no you cannot trade them for a Cable Car, douchewaffle.

T: This is difficult to define because it is almost non-existent. You taste it and within a second it imparts a mild sweetness, a hint of biscuit and is gone. The water is the predominate flavor on the palate. Slight tartness for a fleeting moment is the most noteworthy aspect of the beer and it is gone as soon as it begins, welcoming another sip almost antagonistically. The flower is certainly present as well but it feels like a strange sidecar to the whole experience, it clips along like some unwelcome ass sidekick with vegetal notes slowing down my good times. I don’t need the bark and huge bouquet on the backend, just man up and become a full on IPA already. This beer has Zombie Dust identity problems, except Zombie Dust is amazing, this just feels like an awkward attempt to remove my bra.

After having so many beers, maybe I don’t even know what a good pale ale is.

M: The mouthfeel is amongst the lightest I have ever experienced, as soon as it initiates it shuts down like a computer with boot sector problems, there is no coating, no maltiness imparted on the palate. you could brush your teeth and then drink this with little reprocussions. A forgettable experience if not for the huge hoppy dryness at the conclusion.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable in the way that Entourage is a very watchable show. The elements that draw you in at first become predictible and off-putting shortly thereafter. Maybe living in California and having access to Row2 and Hoppy Birthday has made me a spoiled ass hopbaby, but I like my cones just so, and this just didnt caress them in a lovingly affectionate manner.

Pop open some pale ale and get ready for a huge watery mess.

Narrative: Oh great, he’s going to continue on this subject “And the funny thing about arthoropoda is most people think phylum is defined by the phonemes in the” jesus, how long can one date last. Well at least this is memorable, not like my last date off of Jdate.com, the water salesman.
What was his name? John? James? Jerem- I can’t even recall. It was as though that trip to the generic predictable restaurant didn’t even happen. I think I had the ahi tuna, no, well there was that one moment when he…what was it? I was something mildly sweet and interesting, for a fleeting second. Oh he made a small crane out of the bill. Totally forgettable.

“-and so most gastropods stomachs aren’t technically their FOOT as the latin name would connote” Oh shit, he is still going, I dont know what is worse, a memorable date for the wrong reasons or a forgettable date for the right reasons. “Check please.”

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I am not dead

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I have received some messages speculating that I drank myself to death over the weekend. Rumors of my demise have been largely exaggerated. I went to SF over the weekend and forgot to set up reviews to auto post. I figured the beer porn would tithe some people over, but there is that dark cadre of beerdophiles who crave that narrative for succor. Succor is coming.

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Rodenbach Caractère Rouge, Taking Regular Old Rodenbach to Baller New Levels

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Thanks to Anthony for hooking me up with this Belgian beast. The regular old Rodenbach is a solid standby for the uninitiated. I love dropping that or some Duchess Du B. on a normal person not completely obsessed with beer, and then watching their worlds completely change like giving a pack of Parliaments to a 6th grader. This beer takes that old formula and puts me back in the n00b seat with a whole new delicious spin on those oaky/cherry/jolly rancher flavors that I seem to take for granted now. Let’s bust some cherries open in today’s review.

I need a beer that is red in the cheeks and a bruin in the sheets.

Brouwerij Rodenbach N.V.
Belgium
Flanders Red Ale | 7.00% ABV

A: this has nice gentle carbonation, and a one inch head that climbs and subsides gradually, dark red, dried blood with orange amber hues at the edges, head sits with hold like a rootbeer float and then immediately crackles away.

This beer destroys the inside of your mouth but it is so gosh darn gentle, you don’t really mind.

S: sour cherries, sweet nose, a bit of a funkiness, a bit of the cork with a woodiness, and finally a tannic raspberry aspect follows the cherry bride, holding the train.

T: the sour cherry is very pronounced, it is very light on the palate with a bittering grape skin flavor, flavor passes quickly with intense layers, tart pomegranate sweetness to it, the sweetness is like a cherry jolly rancher for a moment and the bitterness overtake quickly. You get a bit of acetone but not to the vinegar status levels, the whole affair is very fruit forward, much like that Fruit Picking Summer Camp your parents sent you to. But then you later found out it was just a Honduran guy’s house.

I will obtain more bottles of this………..eventually….

M: This is very thin and refreshing, easy to drink for any occasion, if not price prohibitive, an excellent session beer that doesnt over dry the palate despite all the tart notes, taste hits hard on the front end and leaves with little resides or coating in the mouth. The fruits help to calm down the acidic character and a light fruit roll up aspect is left lingering. It puts a body kit and cold air intake on regular old Rodenbach and pulls far more Philipino chicks as a result.

D: This is very drinkable, perhaps session is a bit strong but certainly 2 or 3 would be reasonable, if you enjoy the tartness and wild ale character, you could drink this all day given the abv and the lack of weight to the beer. The average consumer might not be on board with this style but I find it to be refreshing with bright notes. My wallet is definitely not on board with the death hammer price though. I think shipped from Belgium this beer ends up being, what $60 a bottle? Oh well, haters gonna hate.

This is a strange beer, worthy of cool reverence. Comforting but uncomfortable at the same time.

Narrative: They huddled in the cold dark holding cell, awaiting release “You number 34724?” A tense overseer inquires. He nodded with trepidation, awaiting the release, and at just that moment the cork gateway was opened, releasing him and his cherry bretheren, sour and full of misgivings upon the awaiting masses. “DONT GET CAUGHT ON THE FRONT LINE, WE ARENT HERE FOR SWEET” He had been told this many times, the initial sweet sentry tastebuds fell effortlessly under his tart scimitar. With an aerialists grace he imparted sweet blood on the front gates of the toungegrounds, charging directly to the back. This smash and grab had been rehearsed time and time again within the confines of his 6 month conditions, directly to the bitter, hit the sour and escape. With rote skill and a pike jump the bitter taste faction was seamlessly integrated, their sensory necks broken, neurons lithely hitting the ground as the tary cherry warrior continued his flay into the dark abyss. His job was done. The tart was communicated and his purpose was served.