The Bruery Mango Hottenroth, A Lackluster Jaunt Down the Produce Aisle of Sighs

February 6, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Today we have a Hoarders only bottle that people were writing fanficiton about all year, just waiting for this banger to drop. All fucking year we witnessed other west coast breweries parade out reasonable ABV wild ales, fruited goses, fruited berliners, DOUBLE FRUITED sours. Each impatient dipshit in the Hoarders crew longingly shook a snowglobe and waited and waited for this beer to drop. FINALLY WORD CAME! HS ballers would get a single. bottle. with their membership. To prevent people flipping over Priuses in the streets of Placentia, another bottle was available for purchase. A single. bottle. The anticipation ran high and, with a crisp fulfilling base beer, WHAT COULD GO WRONG? Well strap yourself into that sex swing and prepare for that mango to get plenty bruised in today’s review.

Them tropical tones on blast, looking all Naked/Kerny

Them tropical tones on blast, looking all Naked/Kernsy

The Bruery, Placentia
3.2% abv, Berliner with Mango

A: This is a messy, turbid affair that wears the mango guts proudly like an ornate sash of pulp and frothy flotsam. It isn’t particularly beautiful, but regular old Hotty didnt have a pilates body either. The carb exits almost upon inception, a wry tip of the hat as if to say “we lived in the bottle for long enough as it is, good luck with this one, Mango Hotty is a hot mess.” There is no lacing, no cling, just you and this second runnings from the Jamba Juice blender. A Petite Smootheeiere`

S: The nose is undeniably mango, tropical life savers, Haribo peach rings, yes yes, that is all present. Apricot Jolly Rancher even? Sure. The problem is not within the mango funzone, it is within the dark undercurrent of odd happenings that clearly were not invited and are stretching the expanse of a +1 roster. You get a sort of lemon meringue, alright not standard but, wait is that egg? Hold on, sulphur? Detonated fireworks? WHO LET THESE INTO THIS HERETOFORE AMAZING BEVERAGE? The whole thing closes with a sort of “bottle shock” note that makes it seem like, despite waiting so long to release this bottle, the March 31 pickup date pushed this to be released too soon. And DDB, like a stupid asshole wants to have the first review up, so I opened mine far too soon. Let’s move on.

Drop molly with your pet otter, pop a bottle of this, anything goes. taste colors.

T: Things continue to get weird from here on in, theres some apricot fruit leather and a brackish spray like riding a clementine orca over a sea of Donald Duck Orange Juice EVERYTHING IS AMAZING- until you swallow. The clinging pulpy barbs leave an odd “Bubbilicious chewed way too long” sort of cling and a waxiness like those opaque candy bottles with juice inside of them. Something just seems, not quite right. It isn’t exactly sick or ropey or phenolic, none of that, but it feels kinda like I am sipping a molten mango Yankee Candle. The whole affair is circumspect and breaches the expectations of “Yeah I love Hottenroth, just put mango in that shit, alright, let’s get this done.”

M: This is crushable and drinks like an odd variant of Vitamin Water. It is crackly, crisp and dry, leaves a tannic presence along the gumline and leaves nothing to be desired in this realm. It never becomes too acidic or sweet and cloying. The weird eggy taste along the back palate is strange and I can’t come up with a reasonable explanation for it, if you like Mango Oikos Greek Yogurt, you will love this untameable Rancor.

The Bruery’s reaction when I saunter in after this review.

D: I can’t pretend to know what happened here. This seemed like a simple enough task but things just did not work out as expected. You take your Civic Si in for a new timing belt, suddenly it has a wet fogger system and isnt street legal and runs in a less than satisfactory fashion. Hottenroth is simple as shit and people love it. Adding mango to this should have been a plug and play affair but this thing has spoilers and sideskirts and all manner of shit that seems to have overly complicated the whole execution. This is by no means a bad beer, it isn’t a drainpour, and if you split it at a massive Indiana backyard share the untappd single digit reviews would rain like Phoenician arrows. It is a disappointment though, given the high hopes, delays, anticipation and fanciful imagination of beer nerds everywhere. Perhaps the promise of unbridled deliciousness were unfair from the inception, maybe Trevor put out way too many fucking tasty De Garde BU’s and people just assumed this would be the same way. I don’t know, it is Friday don’t you have better things to do than read this shit? It has to be 25 cent wing night SOMEWHERE.

SHAMELESS APOLOGIST SIGNING OFF.

I wear many hats around here.

@thebruery Port Barrel Black Tuesday, Poppin Tannins like when Postmenopausal Baes hit the club and Order Grenache

February 5, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Well it only took a solid 6 years for the Bruery to start rolling out a series of BT variants, but now we are swimming in them. We did rum, did madeira, but what about this vinous banger? This is a wildly different romp in the barrel and comes across more like the missing link between regular ass Black Tuesday and Wineification, WINUS ERECTUS. Let’s squeeze them grapes in today’s review and get lazier than a Portugese government employee

Fully turnt popping them big BALs at Kern River.

Placentaville, OC, CA
The Bruery, 18.1% abv

A: Pepper your angus, this looks exactly like 2014 BT. You know, the same nimble, clean, balanced 19.5% stout that is the best vintage since 2009. That BT. The carb is on point and gives deep dark mocha foam and jet black countenance that looks slick and more attenuated than other beers with half the abv. It drops it low in a three point stance and errybody in the brewery watching it pop them porty hips for dollars.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pcY_6t_Fhrg
WARNING: u betr b alfa as fukkkkk to enjoy this beer.

S: This takes a radical departure into a realm that is not even BT really and feels like it could be it’s own beer given how deviant it is contrasted to the normal bourbon barrel treatment. There is a massive grape and red fruit aspect to it, intense merlot oak, drunk your aunt’s kisses at Thanksgiving, this beer can run through your whole team like Jerome Bettis. There is a Welch’s grape meets muddled raspberry. It is unquestionably the most fruity execution of BT this side of straight up Wineification.

18% abv, flexing hard in the trap, no keys, push to start shit

T: The nose had the fruit and this executes in a massive port, sherry, carmelized blackberry, currant, and lingers on and on with chocolate like those cherries coated in chocolate, CORDIAL TONES. This doesn’t tread so deeply into the wine world ala Wineification itself but it sure straddles the fencepost between the two plots of land and grinds on them boards. The oak profile is the driest BT of them all, and while Madeira is the easiest to slam due to balance, this has the sheer depth and apeshit execution that would make a Sommelier start talking about degassing and floculation, running that grid all half mast.

M: This is intensely crisp and makes the regular BT seem relatively flabby by contrast, it is bone dry and leads with those grape skins. Jellys jams and dry french oak round out this chocolate desert. It is a phenomenal beer to let open up to near room temp and huff it hard. Rolling with Port BT is like pulling up with two bad bottles with you, molly and Aquafina.

Only the hardest in the game need apply.

D: This isn’t quite in the straight crushable Madeira range, but the dryness is what you receive in return. You are awarded a degree of complexity that takes that massive stout which may seem unwieldy at first blush, yet becomes drillable very quickly. For better or worse, you might drink this and buy all kinds of shit on Amazon and not remember it. Don’t act like you didn’t want the DVD collection of every season of Small Wonder. This beer just helps you achieve your latent dreams. Shotgun a pull of BCBS and then mouthkiss a Williams and Sonoma tier plastic divorcee from Santa Barbara and you just got the full Port BT experience. Oh you taking her home but you gotta move that carseat first. IT IS ALL WORTH IT.

BONUS VEDEO CONTENT: Malort blended In and Out Double Doubler Nuthuluus

February 2, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Some cicerones complained that ddb did not actually blend it, or did not taste it. SO this is the blu-ray criterion edition directors cut with behind the scenes coovie blending for posterity tones.

It was disgusting and tasted like malort, cigar butts, and oily lipid cheese notes. One of the worst blends to date.

@Darkhorsebrewco Rum Barrel 4 Elf, a glade plug-in/dryer sheet disaster of a winter warmer

January 28, 2015 | dontdrinkbeer

Oh winter warmers, what are we supposed to do with you? At any other time of the year we would just call you an old ale or a barleywine and be on our way. But every fourth quarter breweries toss fucking cardamom and allspice into perfectly respectable beers and spice things up like how Hollywood was adding gay characters into every movie in the 90s. Sometimes spice adds a layer of complexity to a hefty malt profile, more often it tastes like a bakery disaster with nutmeg secreting out your nips balefully. This is the latter. Let’s see how Dark Horse spent all that TV money in today’s review:

The vinyl is inversely amazing when contrasted to the quality of this beer, And we all know Dre Day is a classic.

Winter Warmer, Michigan,
Dark Horse Brewing, who knows the abv? You’ll see its not relevant.

A: This is a murky brown with a turbid center like lake water, frothy carb that looks lively but is secretly just runoff from Beijing factories. In the same vein as that CAPRICHO OBSCURA disaster from Cigar City, this just looks messy, but looks are sometimes deceiving.

this bae gets out of control pretty quickly

S: Smells are not often deceiving and this is a Yankee Candle nightmare. You get some sort of cinnamon meets cardamom, a sickening sweetness like egg nog sublimates into an almost floral aspect that clashes with everything else. I can’t make heads or tails as to what they were going for here: is this a malty big beer with rum underpinnings? It definitely is not that. Is this supposed to be a spice driven holiday extravaganza? It feels more like someone dropped an IKEA spice cabinet into the brite tank. Maybe its a sweet winter treat? well it isn’t really that considering the whole thing has this laundry detergent overtone to it. I don’t know who this is for, people who have a disassociative disorder with their mouths and want to render punishment perhaps. Some people said the rum barrel mellowed out the spice of the base beer, but that’s like how napalm mellows out fire by keeping it in a single area to devastate for a longer period.

Just because something is strange doesn’t mean you want it anywhere near your mouth

T: This just continues the punitive aspects of the spice and adds a sickening layer of sweetness like when someone brings you shitty candy from abroad. It is never tuned to your palate and seems grossly saccharine or has like fucking salt or licorice in it. This is all that, except wait, who is getting out of this nightmarish taste Uber? Oh it is fucking clove, here comes this asshole. You know, like those times we have all smoked a black and mild and then craved some skittles, we’ve all been there. Blegh.

M: This is thin and doesn’t linger thank god, it ruins your evening in a perfunctory manner and then does a heel turn and leaves. So I guess I am thankful for that. It doesn’t like fuck your sister and then ask for a ride home, it knows when it is not wanted and is respectful enough to be over quickly. Thanks for that, Dark Horse.

Winter Warmer fanboys repping the block hard piru set

D: If this were any less drinkable it would be a solid object. If barleywine were a super hero movie, this winter warmer would be the guy who gets pushed into a tub of toxic waste and jasmine to create the ultimate beverage villain. I cant not recommend this enough because, it isn’t even infected, they made this on purpose. It was like how the director of Birdemic was like “yup, this looks good, better offer this to people, you know, in exchange for money.” This is a total pile of wet Michigan garbage that has an entire can of FRESH LINEN Febreeze dusted over it. In other words, extra this to Florida traders, they will drink anything as long as it has been in a barrel.

@alchemistbeer Focal Banger: Better than Heady. I know this will rustle people with Certified BJ palates.

November 6, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Whoa, whoa, let’s put the pitchforks down and extinguish those torches. BOTH BEERS ARE WORLD CLASS. Focal Banger just goes hard and crushes it out of the park in a totally different and admittedly superior manner almost across the board. Let’s start oiling those cones and get back to them entry level hoppy palate roots in today’s roots.

Gemini, Focal’s Majesty

Focal Banger
The Alchemist
Vermont, United States
Style | ABV
American IPA | 7.00% ABV

WE DOING HOPPY BEER REVIEWS WITH A FULL NARRATIVE TOO, can you Digglett?

A: This has that same turbid, milky, Sunny D meets Tampico sort of radiance that the Cicerone schools gnash their teeth over: SUCH A LACK OF CLARITY. This was to be expected, as the farmhouse game is pervasive and not everyone subscribes to the crystal clear SRM of generations past. That’s chill. The carb is ample but doesn’t get in the way with excessive head or entendres connected thereto. It reminds me of how HF Double Galaxy Looks, except this shit only gots one galaxy, NEED TO UP THAT GALAXY COUNT SON.

S: This is an earth shattering limit break of olfactory delights, I am left mashing X to execute an ever expanding combo. There is of course the Citra aspects of tangerine and grapefruit zest, sure like you didn’t expect that, but HOLD UP, there is also a sort of Honeydew and a crisp watery melon profile that starts chopping up alpha rails real quick on a jewel case. This is overwhelming in scope and capacity but also adds depth to the old Bells’ hop overload formula. Balanced and excessive concurrently, a work of staggering brilliance.

You don’t always need to be massive to put in work. Str8 swole. Mad hoppy striations

T: The taste is intensely bright and nimble in a way that heady feels yeasty and sluggish by contrast. If Horny Tubbler is the Tank, this is a nimble rogue casting hoppy DPS all over the place. There is lemon cirtus, peach, apricot, a watery panache that buttresses and fires shots like Ocelot Revolver right into your bittering zones on the swallow. The intense citrus closes a touch minty and herbal with a bittering juniper mixing with the pithy juiciness. I can’t eke out punchlines when beers are this phenomenal, DDB just turns into one of those basic ticker 50 hits a day fan service pages. IT IS NOT MY FAULT.

M: This is more thin and malleable than Heady by a long shot and feels dynamic as a result, closer to Pupil or Nelson really, and those are exceptional ranks to shoulder. It sallies delicately from zone to zone on your palate and cascades crisp like an Anjou pear upon the swallow, like Deadpool backflipping and laying a trail of explosive citrus clusterbombs. UR MOUTH JUST GOT DOMED UP BY DEADPOOL.

pictured above: basic tickers become cicerones overnight after discovering hops

D: When asked how Michaelangelo created David, he replied “I looked at the marble and removed material until only David remained.” This does the same thing, except it strips down all the extraneous flabby water profiles, the excessive yeasty profiles, the overload od dry hopping, the needless crystal malt, excised honey and all the other bullshit and stripped this down like a roll-caged MR2 ready for the track. It is phenomenal without qualification and you are doing yourself a great disservice by skipping this one, even if it means dealing with rapacious Vermont traders who want Chez $4$ with cans of this, or whateverthefuck.

Narrative: Alfred Hopsdam clutched the radiant emerald amulet with trepidation as the train approached the platform, wisps of steam filling the air with wafts from the local orchards in the swing of harvest season. “Waterb…Waterburry…” Alfred stammered as he presented his entry forms to the elite Alpha Work Academy. The conductor glanced hurriedly at his pocketwatch and nodded, motioning for Alfred to pick up his forest green equipage and enter the cabin. The air inside of the Academy tram reeked of dabber oils, Jamba Juice smoothies, and herbal apertifs being decadently enjoyed by the senior members of the Hop Warriors Guild. One corpulent ranking official dropped his substantial mass onto the bench beside Alfred, “NAMES HOPSLAM, January class, BEEN AROUND HERE FOREVER, sayyyyy, you lookin a lil too thin to ride with us, you sure you on the right train bud? HAR HAR HAR!” His foul honey laden breath belied his true nature, sticky and coniferous. Alfred shook his head and gripped the amulet tightly and felt the clicking of the wheels onto adjoining rails as he watched the apricot trees buzz by with increasing celerity, he thought “they will see soon enough, I will show them all.”

PROTIP: Not everything needs to be barrel aged for you to give a fuck.

Ten Reasons Why October Is the Absolute Shittiest Beer Month for People Who Love Beer

October 24, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Every year, when autumn sets in and those leaves turn from green to whatever color leaves change where you live, every dipshit on the block decides to be interested in beer for a single month. Without fail, this month is October, every single year. For the uninitiated, October is a whimsical time of exploration, pumpkin spice and grocery store beers they can’t wait to tell everyone about. For the rest of the beer world, October is like pushing a glass rod into your dickhole and smashing it with a pumpkin. Today DDB will attempt to explain just why October is the absolute worst for people who are into beer year-round.

1) Fucking Octoberfest. Always Octoberfest.
You will start seeing Marzens, graters, fucking Roggenbiers and all other kinds of obscure German afterbirth hitting the shelves as early as August. This can mean only one thing, every asshole you are mildly associated with will be asking you to drink lukewarm lagers out of a 1 liter mug at some dumbfuck venue. Most beer nerds spend the better part of their year avoiding these styles altogether, but to everyone else YOU ARE THEIR BEER FRIEND THIS IS YOUR CHRISTMAS, RIGHT? Sure, there is a place for a clean refreshing German bier every once and again, but enjoying one with a bunch of assholes from accounting who want to ask you a hundred questions about the Reinheitsgebot over an oversized pretzel is never enjoyable.

HEY YOU LIKE BEER SURELY YOULL ENJOY HANGING OUT WITH DRUNK ASSHOLES DRINKING BEER YOU HATE RIGHT?

2) Pumpkin Infused Everything.
For the average Whole Foods baller, the changing of the seasons activates an irritating need in their DNA to consume pumpkin everything: pies, lattes, KY lube- FOR THE LOVE OF GOURD. Without fail, the average beer nerd will get swept up in this bullshit. Your stepdad will buy you some awful pumpkin English Brown or someone will ask you incessant questions about the various pumpkin beers that they JUST HAD TO TRY WHILE THEY WHIP UP SOME MACAROONS. Beer nerds hate these beers and the spike of BeerAdvocate users and forum activity centered around pumpkin beers shows the critical mass of dipshits that flock to these on an annual basis. No thanks, Jeff.

3) Lifestyle Magazines Decide They Are Experts on Beer
During the month of October, every asshole with a subscription to Food and Wine decides that they need to dust off all their extraneous kitchen gear and whip up some awful shit to bring to holiday parties and family functions. October is the coronation of this shit-crowning and publications that previously were telling you which messenger bag is the snappiest now decide to report on BREAKING NEWS LIKE THE FOUR DIFFERENT TYPES OF SOUR ALES. It wouldn’t really matter if they just spread myopic dumbass information, but instead like FoodBabe herpes, people itch these and spread them to beer lovers and we have to suffer through these jizzgargling articles and grin and be like “oh, thanks Aunt Grace, I will look into these, yeah.” The worst is when do zero fucking research and then put together pairing guides with extremely rare beers that your friends will ask you about and then you look like a massive prick explaining how to obtain that beer, “oh the article told you to pair your pecan pastry with Kaggen Stormskatporter? Oh ok, well here let me explain why you will never fucking do that-”

FOR

FUCKS

SAKE

BEER FESTZ FUK YAAAA who carez wut we drinkn ITS FUKN BEEER!!!1!!LOLOL

4) Colder Weather Makes Beta Casuals Adventurous in their Beer Selections
Usually a basement dwelling beer nerd can live in gentle repose, conforted by the sweet succor of barrel aged old ales or nuanced saisons. The above-ground population drinks adjunct lagers and witbiers and the world operates in seamless harmony. In October temperatures drop and all those Coachella assholes decide to be adventurous in the CVS and buy something that doesn’t look like a cup of clean piss you give to your parolee buddy. This would be great if these people treated this decision like any other consumer purchase instead of making it your problem the next day. Be prepared to hear all about this brand new STYLE OF BEER CALLED A PORTERS BECAUSE IT WAS MADE IN A PORT, IN PORTUGAL. Oh no problem, a 5 minute review of Young’s Banana Bread Beer? Tell me all about your palate adventures. Invariably, these assholes will need to drop weight around Valentines Day for that big one night stand they have been planning, and they forget all about beer. It’s the stretch-marked beer nerds who have to suffer through these stories day in and day out. If I just discovered football and decided to recount all of the FIRST DOWNS that I witnessed over the weekend, people would be like “this guy is a huge prick, keep it to yourself.” That’s how it feels to be asked a relentless series of questions about Blue Moon and why is LA FIN DU MONDE just so much better like seriously, its so good, have you had it? Oh you have well let me tell you WHAT I THINK ABOUT IT, please dont interrupt me-

Bro, we like beer but dont get all weird about it, hey have you tried WIDMER OR THIS HEMP ALE SO FUKN RAD

5) Outdoor Beer Festivals
I can already see the backlash to this one, “WAIT DDB WHAT’S WRONG WITH ENJOYING FALL OUTSIDE AND TRYING SOME NEW BEERS! I AM NOT EVEN CIRCUMSIZED!” To which I will remind the average beer consumer that these festivals are a fucking nightmare for your “BEER FRIEND.” You remember how all year that portly guy in the last cubicle has been going to bottleshares, events, releases, and standing in industrial parking lots on weekends for beer? That’s how much he hates beer festivals. You never wanted to go to those events, and a beer nerd wants to go to a Beerfest expoentially less. If you have a friend who is really into beer, the prospect of paying $60 to drink Asahi and Magic Hat outdoors with a bunch of redfaced undergrads is the worst idea ever. Couple that with UNLIMITED POURS of Honker ale, long lines to get a 5oz pour of beer they don’t want in the first place, and casual dipshits who usually dont get drunk and you have an unchecked Cougarfest on your hands. Toss in an 80’s band for maximum rage. As if the foregoing wasn’t enough, the average beer nerd gets nothing but expectant looks from the normal friends like “WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK OF SHIPYARD SMASHED BLUEBERRY HAVE YOU EVER HAD IT BEFORE? IT IS MINDBLOWING RIGHT? Oh…well we liked it…here let me explain to you why it is good in this 25 minute portapotty line-”

Reasons 6 through 10 are the people curmudgeonly described in a variety of ways. You get the jist.

I could go on and on but the assholes who need to read this have SearchSafe activated and won’t understand this anyway. Time to bunker down through the nutmeg and allspice disaster until after New Year’s Eve.

@voodoobrewery Tenacious Wee aged in Eagle Rare Barrels, This is not the greatest beer in the world; this is just a tribute

October 24, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

FILL THE CREVASSE.

COULDN’T REMEMBER THE RECIPE TO THE GREATEST BEER IN THE WORLD: this is just a tribute.

But in all honesty this beer is pretty tasty, you don’t always have to fuck people’s palates hard sometimes you have to make some love and give tickers some smooches too. Whenever someone offers me a regular scotch ale I am usually like “hey if I wanted the taste of pennies, stale alcohol and blood, I will just go work at the recycling center.” Somehow, through the magic of oak and time, barrel aging scotch ales makes them actually drinkable. However, unlike barleywines or old ales, they don’t have that heft to their bodies so they run the risk of being over-oaked if you try to push the wood too deep, hitting that back wall.

This beer is a shining example of a BA scotch ale that damn near shoulders with the finest BA Barleywines in complexity and sheer deliciousness. The treatment imparted a fantastic coconut and macaroon aspect and, more importantly, served to tame the metallic and bittering notes attendant to the standard pedestrian scotch ale base. Sure, you can disagree and sip on wee heavies to your heart’s delight, but you probably have your name written on the inside of your underwear and I wouldn’t want to drink with your basic ass 1996 palate anyway.

This has a deep crimson and mahogany aspect to it with a fantastic carb that subsides without lacing or much pageantry. The nose is fantastic through and through, sweet carmelized raisins, brown sugar, a touch of oaky bitter notes, and finishes like Sugar Daddies and a mineral closer. The taste is clean and highly attenuated, not leaving a flabby inefficient grain bill or residual sugar to needlessly sweeten up this tight presentation. It is distinctively a scotch ale in this regard, whereas some people might complain that Ale Smith BA Wee Heavy toes too closely to the barleywine realm. Fuck those complainers, we are talking god tier BA Scotch ales here, give those jabronis some knuckle sandwiches. The taste is a bit more bitter and malt forward than the sweet nose would belie and it kinda reminds me a of a baby version of Kuhnhenn BBBW, if you ratchet evertying back a step, and then actually carbonated it- HEYOOOOO.

The mouthfeel begs for another sip and the fusel heat is imperceptible and integrated seamlessly like those SICK TRUE RELIGION JEANS WITH THE WHITE STITCHING OH FUCK. I killed this bottle unreasonably fast while sucking shit at Rocksmith, but who wants to play POLICE covers anyway? It is highly drinkable, complex, and should be enjoyed above 60 degrees to get all them Sherwin Williams color swaps on your palate.

I would tell you to go seek it out, but I am sure this was like 300 bottles or some shit, so who cares. If nothing else it is a testament to a barrel program that, if we overlook Gran Met and Buffalo Trace BBVD, is almost beyond reproach at this point.

In other Leatherhead related news, the 1989 action figure arrived WITHOUT THE FUCKING SHOTGUN THO
Brb gonna shotgun some Voodoo instead.

@councilbrewing Nicene Saison, an incredible Gewurztraminer BA Saison that drinks like musky vintage Temptation. Delicious.

October 13, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

I know what you are thinking, “Gewurztraminer? Why are you doing this DDB. We aren’t post-menopausal homies with subscriptions to Sunset magazine.” Just stay with me here. You don’t have to be an empty nester who watches Mike and Molly to appreciate this phenomenal beer, just dig in for this farmhouse ride. It’s a bumpy, musky lil pumpkin patch, don’t fall out of the truck.

Them holofoil labels got me dusting off my Charizard

Council Brewing Co., San Diego, CA
6% abv Saison

CAPPED AND CORKED OH SHIT FANCIER THAN IGGY AZALEA

The commercial rub-down:

“650, 750ml bottles of Nicene were released on September 13, 2014. Nicene was brewed with traditional Saison ingredients to provide a rustic, bready malt backbone and paired with the tropical fruit forward wine and French oak notes achieved from the Gewurztraminer wine barrels. Over time, Brettanomyces and Lactobacillus will continue to develop the gentle sourness and earthy flavors. This Sour Saison was manually packaged with tremendous care and bottle conditioned with high carbonation for optimal enjoyment in a tulip glass.”

DONT TELL ME WHAT FUKN GLASS TO USE.

A: Whenever I pop a cap and then see a cork it’s like SORRY YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE. Once I got past the defenses, things got overridingly real. This cascades out with a silky fine carb that crackles forth like a broken washing machine and lingers with wispy frothiness not unlike those filipino foam parties you would attend in your youth. The malt profile looks like straight wheat + belgian pils, nothing too apeshit here. You have a mildly turbid creaminess to the appearance that looks like Sunny D, and everyone knows you want the D. Everyone already knows it.

It doesn’t need to make sense. It’s a sub 1000 count barrel aged saison. Ask questions later.

S: This has a phenomenal nose to it and presents a sort of riesling spilled on Berber carpet. There is a musk of leather and saddle but nectarine and a sweet Chardonnay oakiness. I had never tried a GERWERTEZMENDER barrel aged ANYTHING before and I was suspect from the outset. I didn’t know if a saison would be the based candidate just because the overridingly sweet profile from the grapes COULD TAKE SHIT OVER LIKE WHEN DRAKE DROPS A LACKLUSTER 16 BUT THAT’S THE ONLY VERSE ANYONE REMEMBERS. This just soars on the olfactory profile and presents a welcoming peach pie cooling in the barn, straw and faint acidity while you do whip its and lay in the hay bales. Things are ultra cutty.

This is odd, but unquestionably welcoming. Franch approved.

T: Again, the G-spot barrels are phenomenal and present just the right balance of sweetness for the incredibly balanced acidity to make this drink like aged Temptation. If you have opened a batch 4 large format Temptation you will have an excellent idea of what I am talking about. This doesn’t go ultra lactic, it doesn’t put its pedio foot forward, it opts for a massive drinkability and leaves your gumline unmolested. The creaminess and anjou pear leaves a sort of fondue muskiness on the gumline that is difficult to approximate. It just works so well.

M: Again the cheesy creaminess and silky carb just makes this whole thing gentle as a basket of laundry fresh out the hamper; because that musk, homie. It doesn’t wipe out your jaw or recede your bitter zones, or give you rumble guts after a 750ml. If you have had some of the more nuanced american Farmhouse beers: Florence, Bernice, Jester King Biere de Miel; you will know exactly what I mean. It doesn’t need to hit you with a throbbing blue veined shaft of acidity or his that sub 3.0 ph to make its point. The whole experience is intensely pleasant and refreshing with a faintly alkaline hardness to the water profile that is awesome, gypsum on deck throwing up B’s and C’s.

Might as well spend your time drinking rare BA saisons, there are worse ways to defend your virginity

D: This is highly crushable and a 750ml is easy to take down. If you have ever opened anything from Blaugies and then been like “where dafuq did all the ounces go?” you will know the saison sitch. Their base saison was tasty, a touch sweet and presented a pretty standard high ferm temp Dupont strain sort of profile but this takes things to a whole new realm. If this is characteristic of GERWAMSTRAINER barrels, then god damn, breweries need to start sourcing them hard, like Galoob ripping off NES code with Gamie Genie: THIS IS NO DERIVATIVE WORK.

FOR OLD TIMES SAKE, LET’S DO A NARRATIVE:

Narrative: It had been so long since the four arbiters of the canonical saison world had met. The yeast harbinger so adaptive, ever changing and immutably difficult to locate would seemingly never find time in his schedule to discuss the earthy matters and gristy concerns of the wheat delegate. Even less likely would be the union of the diplomate of Water, hard and pure, with the porous affiliate from the Barrel kingdom. Dire circomstances required a clarification of the saison creed. So many faiths and splinter sects had denatured the Wallonian teachings from the initial farmhouse apostles and the populace was crying for clarity and canonical guidance. The musky gavel rapped the wood lightly and Water brought the counsel to Order, “ggeetttnnnllleeemennn, weee neeedd too dessshcccieeddeee-” he began and was immediately interrupted by Yeast, “oh for fucks sake, can anyone but Water preside over these proceedings? Listen to him. COME ON.” The gathering had begun with a glacier paced discussion of monoculture additions to secondary fermentations, enough to put even Barrel to rest. The faith in Farmhouse Culture was dying, and people were increasingly converting to a acetic faith. Something needed to be done to restore the Wallonian truths set forth some 325 years prior. Finally, after days of grueling work, and the interjection of sweet servant grapes, the Council of Saison had developed an immutable creed for the masses to adhere to without question:

“We believe in one Saison, the Farmhouse almighty, fermenter of all things visible and insoluble
and in one strain, the Son of yeast, the essence of the Father, wheat of wheat, water of water,
housed in earthly sanctity of oak, begotten, not made, being of one substance with the first Saison.
–
By whom all saisons were made, in primary and secondary fermentation, Heaven and Earth,
who for us, Saisons were made incarnate and sent to earth for man
–
Through high fermentation temps, which would kill or denature ordinary Sacchromyeces, yeast suffered and after the 21st day, rose again
–
From thence all saisons shall come to judge the quick and the dead ales, the impure libations, those weak of spirit and character
–
and in the holy fermentation Ghost.”

Less than 60 years later brewers would again engage in sectarian violence over the meaning of “fermentation Ghost,” but that is a tale for another tome.

2004 Zima XXX Fruit Punch, The Definitive American Kriek

October 8, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Well look at what we have here, an immaculately cellared malt beverage from the mid 2000’s, that formidable period from before you shaved your pubes. I actually actively sought this out because it is historically relevant for the oft-over looked malt liquor genre. In the late 1990’s Zima was marketed initially as an “unbeer” for that HUGE segment of young men who can’t handle the aggressive profile of adjunct lagers. They later tried marketing it to women sexist manner until finally it seemed that the old HMS Zima had taken on too much water.

This was their incredible solution. They made ZIMA XXX, the hard as fucking nails version with a SKY HIGH 5.9% abv for those edgy motherfuckers who read HP Lovecraft and carry switchblade combs. Initially this was Black Cherry flavor but they did a limited run of this, the hardest variant to find, HARD PUNCH. Ultimately the brand died out shortly thereafter and this is both a precursor to the malted beverages pushed upon the XX chromosomal order. Without these trailblazing alcoholic sodas, those 13 year old kids may have not discovered their alcoholism until undergrad. Dentists and AA counselors alike salute this beer for its contributions to the “pre-consumer” market. That’s what macros like to call baby palates who can’t buy alcohol yet, but still want to fingerbang.

Let’s get to it and figure out how hard this punch is. I hope it is throbbing hard.

God if ever there were a time to dust off a “robeyy tonezzz” reference, it is now.

Zima XXX
Malt Beverage, 5.9% abv
MADE WITH NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS

A: Say what you will about this ridiculous vessel of afterbirth, but god damn is it beautiful. The carbonation still held up after a decade and cascades magenta and bright pink foam crackling against the edges like pop rocks. It almost immediately subsides and, apparently gallons or red 5 and jolly ranchers inhibit lacing. You learn something new every day. Like the Lisa Frank binders owned by the people this is marketed to, this has a fuschia radiance that honestly looks like Cable Car Kriek in a big way. Imagine the refill trolling opportunities. JUST IMAGINE THEM.

Pop open a Zima and pray that you can beat Giygas. Get 6th grade wasted.

S: You know those candy stores in the mall where all the pedophiles hang out? The ones where you take a plastic sack and fill up on a $18 of candy you would never buy separately, like GUMMY GUITARS and sea salt mexican taffy? Well this smells like those. It hits your eyes before your nose and has a waft like a malfunctioning cotton candy machine, just sugar and artificial cherry like Bubblelicious smashed with Melody Pops. The whole thing feels like an imperial Red Shasta more than an alcoholic beverage and children will hoover this up off a plate like so many wanting MyFreeCamsGirls.

Finally ticked the rarest Zima, now I can get some rest.

T: Before you open this, go ahead and schedule a dental cleaning. While you are at it, go ahead and book a colonic as well. This is so intensely sticky sweet that it tastes like if you melted down fruit by the foot and served it as a parfait to unsuspecting guests with insulin as a sidecar. I can’t imagine any self respecting adult could seriously finish one of these. It’s kinda like getting your dick sucked by a clown: a sweet, shameful event that makes for an interesting story, but no one could bring it to full completion unless you are a truly sick individual. The swallow is like the inside of those wax bottles with juice in them and closes with a highly nuanced Skittles coating along the gumline. I can only imagine how many Latter Day Saints ditched seminary to get their mouths coated bright red in clear recalcitrance to Joseph Smith. Str8 rebelz.

M: This is stick sweet and closes with a plastic waft like when you chew gum for too long. There is no alcohol, there is no grain or grist, it is simply melted HiChews in a glass. If you like Now N Laters, like I mean, you fucking love sessioning an entire pack of them, you might be able to take an entire bottle of this down. The subsequent offerings like Mikes Hard Lemonade and Hard Ciders are infintitely better in execution and drinkability. If you gave this to an 8 year old and told them this was what beer was, you can expect a lifetime of tee tolling. Your kid would be at a Frat Party like “what? You guys drink that shit? No I had beer in 3rd grade, it tasted like edible condoms and cherry astroglide, no thanks.”

The grim reaper will prevent you from earning that Zima cash

D: I need to reiterate this: I traded for this. I actively sought it out and I couldn’t finish the whole thing. You have a better chance of finishing a bag of Halloween candy that you found under the radiator in August than taking down 12 ounces of this. If the panache of regular old Robitussin isn’t doing it for you and you find that your liquid codeine needs a more refined companion, this may be your jam. Fill up a double cup of this decade old beverage and start telling people about how you are gonna open a tattoo parlor, once your parole officer gets off your fuckin back. It is a cherry disaster of Squeezit proportions and no amount of puppies could lure me into an Econoline van if I saw one of these bad boys lurkin.

Top 10 Reasons Why Basic Bitch Palates Love Adjunct Stouts

September 29, 2014 | dontdrinkbeer

Between PIRATE BOMB, and BA MEXICAN CAKE SETS and BA ABRAXAS and BIGGELESWADE DERK LERD AND STONE’S NEW CINNAMON TOAST AFTERBIRTH PLACENTA EXTRAVAGANZA: we have been perineum deep in adjunct stouts. There is something about the allure of all them ingredients on the label that drive basic tickers absolutely banana sandwich. Today I try to sum up why n00bs and sundollar nippled basement dwellers LOVE THEM ADJUNTIFIED STOUTS:

1. THE ABV
Most people attempting to stretch their anuses in the beer game go micro -> hop head -> stouts -> big barrel aged beers -> and end up as the permavirgin lambic coveter you take pity on wearing a tribly scribbling in a Moleskin, shit people should never read. Those journals look like Kevin Spacey’s from Se7en. But in the middle of this degenerative reverse evolution, pussy tickers get it into their heads that a high abv is something difficult to pull off, and they are forged from the cauldron of Hephaestus just because they can slam a 13% abv beer. If you go to any basic bitch bottle share there will always be one dude talking about taking down HUUUUGE BEERS, his swampy armpits redolent with pasta water. Adjunct stouts serve up some high abv and that is anomalously a point of pride for people who don’t know shit. They eat it up.

2. THE COLOR, BRO
If you add chocolate or black patent malt to 168 degree water, you are a fucking genius and god among men. I know most people see you as a sugar water stirring fuckup who was dishonorably discharged from the Coast Guard, but you learned HOW TO MAKE WATER DARK AS FUCK. Basic tickers love this shit. They use tired ass adjectives and sheet it on the glass to get those furrowed foreskins pull taut. To their even more basic friends, its a sign of bragadocio when they get to pop wheelies with adjunct laden dark liquids. SOMEDAY YOULL GET ON THIS LEVEL MAN “OH WOW I DONT EVEN SEE HOW YOU CAN DRINK THAT, ALSO YOUR TEETH LOOK LIKE BAKED BEANS, WOW.”

3. Flavors Any Dipshit Could Identify
If you haven’t tried that many beers, life can be a dizzying mystery of tastes and smells. NO ONE CALL TELL ME WHAT I SUBJECTIVELY TASTE IS WRONG. Is usually what someone who is completely fucking wrong will say. The basic bitch ticker loves adjunct stouts because the label says it right there. It’s like life insurance for their shitty impressions, no one can tell them that vanilla is not in there BECAUSE IT SAYS VANILLA RIGHT THERE ON THE LABEL MOM, GOD TELL ME BEFORE YOU COME DOWN HERE TO DO LAUNDRY. FUCK. Also, adding a fuck ton of an identifiable flavor makes it so they don’t need to learn about things like yeast strains, fermenting temps, or any nuances monoculture aspects. THEY JUST GET TO POINT OUT THE FUKN CINNAMEN BRUH!!!!

MFW i see someone offering up adjunct stout for an almost identical beer

4. Loose Familiarity with the Base Beer
Usually a barrel aged adjunct stout has some sibling that the local dipshit picked up at the local Binny’s. It makes them feel safe and secure knowing that not only will they have tepid observations BUT THEY GET TO MAKE OBVIOUS CONTRASTS AS WELL. While the regular stout was chocolate, the one filled with a shitload of Ancho Peppers TASTES LIKE ANCHO PEPPERS HOLY FUCK 100/100 BJCP SCORE. It is also this grounding in the pedestrian that makes these tickers want the EVEN RARERER VERSION SO MUCH MOARRRR. Sometimes the adjunct versions are even shittier, but that doesn’t matter. Just imagine the look on that Birmingham Homebrew Club’s faces when you roll up with the LIMITED VERSION of some shit they got at the grocery store. King among sleep apnea afflicted men, indeed.

5. U GET TO BE THE BIG MAN AT A BOTTLE SHAER
Most beers that you can drink by yourself don’t lend themselves exclusively to sharing it amongst your 13 closest degenerates. If someone asked me to split a Fantome Ete 13 ways I would LOL and show them where the Hennepin is located. However, if you have a 15% adjunct stout, it begs to be shared like a Burning Angel model. The guy whose personal life is in shambles get to feel special and relevant for a fleeting moment for pouring 1oz into a semi-stranger’s glass. Transitions lenses be fogging up hard when that cocoa version comes out, oh shit AND THE PEANUT BUTTER ONE TOO GUYS LETS ALWAYS INVITE THIS SOCIAL MAVEN.

6. Low Bottle Counts
Plenty of styles have low bottle counts, but who the fuck is trying to drink a SAISON AMIRITE? That’s barely a step above a hef. But when it comes to produce laden stouts, those bottle counts are gospel, regardless of what is inside of them. Often times, someone will tell you the bottle count before they even tell you what the fuck the beer is, as though that’s some MSRP necessary information. Again, we can chalk this up to two parts feelings of inadequacy and one part wanting to have the most tumescent beer pud while standing in line for, you guessed it, more fucking beer.

If you don’t know how to respect adjunct stouts, maybe you need to take a break from the trade boards until you get your shit together

7. GOTTA COMPLETE THAT FUKN SETTTT
The compulsive behavior exhibited by the mid-tier beer nerd lends itself nicely to collecting: most nerds went from pogs, to pokemon, to magic the gathering, to fake numbers from women who were repulsed by them, to setlists from bands no one gives a shit about, until finally that completionist glow of having three slightly different versions of the same beer. Beyond just letting them rot in an Ohio basement, which is sick as fuck in itself, you also get to show them off when one of your 4 friends from the bowling league comes over. Tucked in glass cases like aborginal artifacts, too esoteric for the common guzzler to wrap his mind around. NO YOU FUKN IDIOT THAT ISN’T BOURBON BARREL …that’s the RYE BARREL. I await the day that the holofoil vvariant labels are released and shit gets really real in the field.

8. Become a Master of Comparing Shit No One Cares About
If you have 5 minutes to burn while sitting in your cell on death row, ask a beer nerd which variant he liked best from the 4 versions of the recent adjunct stout. I hope you brought a blankie and some snacks, that monologue will feel endlessly long, like chain smoking Salvia end on end. If you have ever heard one of these philippics you will know that cascading waves of “bourbon had more…but brandy was a touch sweeeter…we all agreed that tequila was too…oddly I loved the malort barrel…” just whipping through the air like a gawdy baton of wasted calories. It would be like if there was a Koren War for decadent dipshits and these people enlisted HARD on those one way missions. Then they return with some stories to tell, real gourmand shit that will chill your soul, you aint heard cardinal or ordinal lists like these before motherfucker, that goateed warrior HAS TASTED SOME THINGS YOU CANT EVEN IMAGINE.

9. FOMO Immunity
If a brewery releases a limited beer that most people miss out on, you can expect that shit to be alluded to a million times over as the benchmark of human progress and palate calibration. If you never tried Southampton Black Raspberry Lambic, then you don’t know SHIT and can’t comment on anything until you do. Take that paradigm and make it tenfold worse because stout aficionados are the absolute fucking worst in this regard. If you miss out on one of the 84 BOTTLES of Apple Brandy Huna, then, why should I even fucking listen to this person, it’s like he lives in a stinky cave and subsists off of hearts of palm. Ok you had CALI BRANDY but whoa whoa, easy buddy, the adults are talking about APPLE BRANDY, why don’t you return to your duplo blocks or whatever it is you put in your mouth. Ticking rare stouts gives you an immunization from anyone being able to ever reference something YOU MAY NOT HAVE TRIED. The shield also works as a weapon in case someone is pulling rank, you just cut their asses down to size by referencing OH YOU HAVENT HAD JUST RUM BARREL HUNA? ONLY THE DOUBLE BARREL ONE EVERY TRIED? OH WELL I CANT EXPECT YOU TO UNDERSTAND. Then disappear in a cloud of black malty smoke like Altair.

with great gourmand power comes decadent responsibility

10. Insightful 1oz Blending by Drunk Assholes
If merely trying the beer wasn’t sufficient, be sure to instagram a bunch of pics of you and your 14 closest homies pouring nominal amounts from the bottom of the bottles to make THE ULTIMATE BLEND. Because then if people tried them individually, you can always piggy back on the ULTIMATE blend of adjunct stouts, to one up anyone. Basic bitch tickers love this because it makes them feel novel, like if Armand or Uli got into a severe car accident and acted like a complete asshole for the rest of his life. And the thought of being a part of that creative process is like Marcel Proust dipping his madeline into tea, a wave of bitch ticker memories wash over these pedestrian ass traders like a Remembrance of Things Past.

So there you have it. If you didn’t understand it before, now you see why the world of meaningless adjunct liquids is so meaningful to people who have little and predicate their self values upon 1%er limited consumables.

JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT THE STOUT GAME WAS SUPREME

dontdrinkbeer

Drinking beer, so you don't have to.

Category Archives: beer