Category Archives: eisbock

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

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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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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2007 Michelob Cherry Lager, I’ll Take You To The Cherry Shop, Let You Lick the Lager Pop

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Well Saints alive, what rare vintage have we been blessed with today? You read the foregoing correctly, a delicious Michelob Cherry Lager, aged for 5 years in a lava lamp. Shit is getting real in an around the field.

Some things age gracefully, like a sweet persian cat whos- ok I can't do it, this ages about as well as a Bolivian coal miner.

Michelob Celebrate Cherry Lager, Fruit Beer, 8.5% abv

A: I think it is ironic that they call this beer Celebrate because usually “Michelob” and “2007 lager” are not the things I would begin whipping up the cake batter for. This thing looks like the type of thing that savvy professional bowlers buy for their harem of harlots. It’s like if Sonic Burger started selling alcoholic drinks and their first foray was in ornate packaging. The bottle itself looks like a depleted uranium shell or a marital aid, depending on how freaky you like your shit. No lacing, no sheeting, mild carbonation: drink a cup of grenadine for the haters.

I just don't trust this beer after seeing the bottle and smelling what it is up to.

S: This smells like cherry lime aide and gives a distinct waft of bubble bath. If you you’ve ever chewed a piece of (yipes stripes) Fruit Stripe gum, you’ll know exactly what is going on here. The amount of hating upon the player that is your olfactory system is staggering. The finish is like if an escort spit a Sucrets into your nose holes and gave you a deep Fruit by the Foot smooch.

T: Alright well, you ever have an awkward hook up that shouldn’t have happened, and you regret it, but at least you get breakfast afterwards? Well this is like that except you don’t get breakfast. This tastes like some old fruit roll-ups left in the sun, or perhaps a blowpop dipped in 4Loko, which by all accounts, is far too many Lokos. It reminds me of those sour ropes in the lingering distaste in my mouth that I usually associate with Jody Foster movies.

Just from its appearance alone, you know your mouth is about to get violated.

M: This was a fleeting experience, but I found myself pointing out on the cherry doll in court where the bad man touched my palate. No matter how much imperial stout I drank afterwards, it still hung around like a vengeful roommate, taking all my Crate and Barrel catelogs. Shit was not bitches. I could see Lil B the Based God loving something like this, sipping it judiciously through his well appointed gem-laden grill. But for the rest of us, I can just snort Mountain Dew Code Red and be done with it.

D: Spoiler Alert: I did not want to drink a lot of this shit. It was juicy juice nightmare and I can’t recommend a return forary into this western theater. The cherries were sickening and the lager base didn’t help matter much with a malt complexity. It just shirked there in the courner shaking awaiting for the cherry domestic violence to stop. I can thank my good friend Eric Hammond for this gem. I gave him Funky Buddha Raspberry Berliner, and this is the fruit treat that I received in return. Equitable exchanges.

This should have been obvious from the start, a 2007 vintage lager from Michelob? Shitstorm from the inception.

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Kuhnhenn Raspberry Eisbock, Rocking So Much Eisbock in the Club, So Eised Out, Yo Eisenberg, Bock Up.

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haha holy shit. i found this draft of a review from 2011. here you go:

By this point, you prolly are all like, “DAMN HOW MANY MORE TOP 100 beers did he review? Why do I even care tho? Am I clearly a rhetorical device?” yes. you are. So this angry little 7oz bottle of rage is a sticky raspberry euthanizer. It is a messy job but someone has to do it to keep you from seeking out these beers, I don’t relish my yoke, es un yoke.

Sticky icky oooo weee, put it in the air. The wash aint just soaps and suds, you a fool for this one Kuhnhennnnnnn- RASPBERRY REEEEMIXXXXX

Kuhnhenn Raspberry Eisbock, 13.5% abv

A: This beer has a deep ruby tone to it with mild maroon tones at the edges. The whole thing has a sticky murkiness to it like a decadent muddy quad, but with more of a feminine glow to it. The carbonation is almost non-existent and mild tiny bubbles form at the surface but like the laughs in an Adam Sandler movie, they are faint and gone far too soon.

This beer is very sweet, but at 13.5% abv, it creeps me out.

S: This is a huge raspberry bomb similar to Framboise De Amarosa. There is a citric acidity and a deep fruit tone on the backend of this beer. The abv shines through and lets it be known that some serious booziness is about to go down. The 7oz bottle is a perfect serving size for a beer that is this violent. At the finish there’s a deep chocolate smell to it that seems almost uninvited, but welcome nonetheless. What was I wearing? Why is that relevant to this complaint, this beer raped my mouth ok?

T: This has a sharp tartness to the front of it that quickly subsides into a deep grape juice flavor. It reminds me of the deep purple Juicy Juice that I had as a kid, or maybe my parents just served me 13.5% abv Eisbock, WE MAY NEVER KNOW. Notwithstanding, all of these fruit notes should be interpreted on the canvas of a deep chocolate and malty base beer that presents a strange scaffolding from which the raspberry bodies are buried. At the finality of the deep maltiness the raspberries come back for a moment just to give you a quick sour shot to the stones. A very enjoyable beer, albeit incredibly strange.

I am not sure what this beer is exactly FOR, but I enjoy it, SORTA.

M: This has a thick malty mouthfeel to it like a chocolately quad but without the big dark fruits getting all pitted up in the mix. It expands and coats impressively like some cough syrup from a negligent ass pediatrician. The lack of carbonation makes this feel sticky and medicinal, which strangely feels appropriate.

D: This suffers in this category simply because this beer is too big for its own raspberry britches. The abv monster, coupled with the crazy acidity, with the lack of carbonation makes this feel like more of a serum to be administered judiciously rather than casually knocked back. Even working through the baleful wax was a task in itself. Again, this isn’t an average beer, it is exceptional, but not one that I would keep in full rotation. This is the type of beer that non-craft people will point to and say “Look at the type of stuff this guy is into!: with derision. Their jeers will resound through the hallways. YOU WILL GET YOUR RASPBERRY REVENGE ON THEM ALL.

This beer tests my patience, but results in a mild treat.

Narrative: The school bell of the gulag had a strange E minor tone to it. It underscored the deep darkness of the work camp that had been deemed an educational institute. “Svedsky! Join us for lunch!” the other children cried and motioned for him to sit with them amongst some dilapidated industrial equipment. “What do you have in your abiEt sack bubushka?” Svedsky resented the other children’s ironic names for him and clenched his jaw and slowly opened his abiet sack. He knew what he would have, so did all of the other little Oliver Twists in the lunch circle. Sevdsky had the same lunch as he had always had. He poured the contents into a silk handkerchief and the children resounded with laughter. “OLD SVEDSKY HAS THE MALINA AGAIN! ALWAYS THE MALINA!” It was indeed malina, an entire pound of raspberries. It was garnished with a piece of hard tack bread but, it was malina all the way through. His brow lowered and his palate was bitter as was his soul as the deep ridicule that he was subjected to. “Hey Sevdsky? Why so quiet? Care to trade for my shuba? JUST KIDDING FOR I WANT NONE OF YOUR MALINAS!” Oh how they rejoiced at his tart pain. The fire burned in his chest and his hatred went unrequited.