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Cascade Apricot Ale 2009, If You Don’t Have Dental Insurance, Don’t Even Bother With This Facemelter.

Oh Cascade, you have been the boon of my orthodontist since 2008. Bottles of pure delight and gumline destruction, you couple that with my love of sweet stouts and rampant caffeine and my teeth look like a frag grenade went off in my bitter zones. Not tripping on my grill though, got sick platinum veneers coming so got my sours on lock. Let’s see what apricots taste like, I don’t eat fruit.

Keep drinking beers like this, enjoy drinking beer out of a hole in your neck. Don’t be like me.

Cascade 2009 Apricot Ale, 9% abv

A: This has deep gold hues with huge abundant carbonation. The head is light and has huge co2 bubbles that provides middle carbonation throughout. There is no lacing but this is still as pretty as a sunrise in an orphanage. The best kind, you know right before they begin that forced labor making your iphone and they still have the dew of night in their eyes.

mmm I see you made a sour there, yeah, that’s nice, sours are nice, I will just smack my lips over here, sours are tart, I KNOWWWWWWW

S: I don’t get a lot of apricot or even much citrus, it comes off like a Brettanomyces bomb with wafty notes of playgrounds, crushed leaves, and hay musk. My eyes also pick up some dryness in the “danger, that is acid, keep away from your face” sort of way. Instincts you learn in biochem.

T: The apricot must be lost on me because I taste a huge tart sourness that truly, could be anything I suppose. It tastes like crushed up sweet tarts and a type of extreme B vitamin heavy energy drink. It has a distinct chardonnay and white wine character to it that is disturbing and acerbic. It’s like a UFC hold when it grips my jaw and presses it forward in a deeply tart character that “stings…the nostrils.”

RIddle me this Cascade! What’s sour and, oh fuck, I am Joker? I dunno, make the bottles explode or, god damnit why didn’t I even shave my moustache for this role?

M: The mouthfeel is dry and I can imagine the citric acid molecules looking all like those Mucinex guys just tearing apart my gumline. This is the type of acidic drink that canker sores and cavities are made of. Sugar and spice and everything nice. They each have a pickaxe and work the bicsupids hard but, work hard play hard. Some people do lines of blow and have janky ass chompers, mine looks weathered from a hatred for my gastrointestinal system. This shit is monster sour and if you see a homeless person on the street smelling like fruit tannins, don’t contribute to his high class ass habits.

D: For the aforementioned faults, it is very drinkable. It comes off to me like Temptation’s fuck up brother. The one who is really good at math but “just doesn’t apply himself.” It is crisp, tart, and refreshing; no problems there. The problems kick in when there’s just a lack of direction and clarity to the experience. There are no real apricots, no real fruits either. It is as though they were like “we used fruits, it’s sour, what do you want from us? We’re clocking out.”

Cascade knows how I feel about them. They can just search my order history, they just shut up and take all my feels. So many feels.

Narrative: “Red wire to the, orange, this one attaches to the acidic base.” Cornelius Mitchley wasn’t the best chemist, and for terms of clarity, he wasn’t the best bank robber either. “Ok, got it, the apricot battery charge is complete, now time to blow the safe!” he flipped an analog detonator and a slight hum generated from the pitted fruit. “A complete dud? I don’t get it, I presented the apricot, the explosive catalyst, all elements are present!!!” The whir and blaring announcement from the police sirens made him drop his mushy produce in his lap. “Oh sure, mistreat the Wawona workers Cornelius, make them sort peaches in double time, and now this! THIS!”The door burst open and three uniformed officers stood in the foyer, marveling at his intricate apricot battery. “Officers, don’t be rash” he opened his lab coat to reveal a dummy trigger connected to a heart rate monitor. “Look on the screen!” he cried and slid a monitoring device over the to the police officers across the slick bank floor. “What is this? Are these bombs strapped to unsorted produce?” “APRICOTS TO BE EXACT MY GOOD OFFICER! And if you don’t let me walk out of here alive, I will blow them all UP! Every last yield from the Wawona farm destroyed, NO FRESH LOCAL APRICOTS FOR A TRISTATE AREA!” The officers looked at one another and drew their firearms. “Wait. . .what?”

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Re-up the flows

Alright I have been slacking, I will pump out some hot new yeastbeats soon, in the interim peep out what I have been sippin on lately, don’t worry, unlike Judy Winslow in season 3 of Family Matters, I won’t abruptly disappear.

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Barrel aged partridge with the Louis Vuitton belt buckle when it is keeping all the heat strapped.

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Bourbon barrel hunaphu, for when you want that cinnamon ancho to rock some BALs.

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Hill Farmstead Norma, next level lactic maneuver.

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Stone QM Virgin Oak El Camino Unreal, No peppercorn stems no fig seeds no sticks. Put your BALs on the 78 freeway for an Unreal experience.

Enough beer porn, reviews will be back soon, cancel that Welbutrin prescription and flip that to some Valtrex instead because DDB is about to make it nasty.

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Johnathon Wakefield Fruit Berliner MASHUPS, For Beer Drinkers with Scurvy and Dental Insurance

Alright so let me see if I have my facts straight here, renegade brewer Johnathon Wakefield from Florida has been cooking up crazy new sours/Berliners/wilds for some time now. Cigar City had him come on as a hired gun to make Dragon Fruit Passion Fruit Berliner for Hunahpu Day and people’s jimmies were rustled so hard. Anyway, I have 4 of his fruited berliners for todays mega-mashup review, FOUR TIMES THE REVIEW FOR YOUR ZERO DOLLAR INVESTMENT.

Well let’s start this off with the titleholder for Ratebeer #1 Berlinerweiss, Dragon Fruit Passion Fruit Berliner

DFPF, hot sticky sour action, NSFW, 18+ only.

Just look at that beer, god damn. It looks like someone at the Juicy Juice factory decided that toddlers needed to sip on some purple drank. This wheat beer has some serious purple hues, majestic magenta, and radiant pink hues at the edges. The smell is like a bag of tropical jolly ranchers, all the obscure fruits kids know only in sucrose and high fructose corn syrup form: guava, mango, passion fruit, durian. The taste is sharp with a high and tight acidity that hits my bicuspids first and starts tearing shit up like a meth addict on Christmas morning in a tropical rehabilitation facility. There’s notes of tropical starburst, Welch’s grape/passion fruit blends, and things girls order when white sand beaches are within a 5 mile radius.

When I poured this out of the growler and saw girly purple drank, I was like-

Verdict: Probably the second best berliner that I have ever tasted, which bring me to MIAMI MADNESSSSSS

The original name for this was Cleveland Madness, but that beer was bitter, full of depressing riverwater, and unemployment.

This beer finally addresses that old conflict I always seem to be running into: drink juice or beer for breakfast? Well, now you get the best of both worlds, seriously, there is so much juice and fruit exploding from this beer I hesitate to state that it is technically “on style” but Funky Buddha’s berliners weren’t on style either but god damn are these beers delicious. The smell has a shipwrecked aspect to it of apricot, huge pineapple, and not in an alpha acid hop way, I mean like acidic juice in your eyes pineapple. The waft continues with some tangelo and a brackish aspect to it that somehow works in this beer. The taste reminds me of an ultra classy greyhound or top shelf jungle juice with huge citrus and tropical acidity like a mai tai. I can’t stress this enough, the fruit is overwhelming and casts a lunar eclipse over the wheat base beer toiling below like a Morlock. The finish has a thick coating of juicy pulpiness.

Juicey acidity, tropical fruits, and a german weissbier? I don’t even know what this site is about anymore.

I love this beer, despite the overload of nutrition presented, but then A NEW CHALLENGER APPEARS-

In collaboration with Jamba Juice, the chunkiest wheat beer this side of Nordstrom Rack.

Holy chunkadunk. This beer has coating in a realm usually reserved for Abyss, but in an entirely different manner: STRAWBERRY RHUBARB. Part of rhubarb will kill you if you eat the wrong part. First we get juice, now straight up vegetables on this site? I know, this isn’t a Jillian Michaels crossfit nutrition guilt trip, just a chunky thick berliner to sip on while you shop for size 42 jeans online. The smell is straight up strawberry, tart jolly rancher, red skittles, and a light raspberry. The taste flips the shit switch and goes into a strawberry voltron that packs a light milky lactose aspect, yogurt, and jamba juice vitamin C boost. Again, the fruit just serves as overlord to the wheat aspect of this beer. SPAWN MORE OVERLORDS.

Four amazing Berliners in one night? Damn, I gotta prep for this one.

So we have seen the tropics, jamba juice, and the inside of an alcoholic crossfit studio, now we wander to latin america and taste some sticky watermelon sex-

Holy murky Prussian mouthgasms. Not sure if this is the dregs of a Cuban fruit cart or a tart treat from Florida: TRICK QUESTION THOSE ARE THE SAME THING.

MORAL IMPERATIVE WATERMELON BERLINER.

Well, this may not be the prettiest beer in the world, but I am sure saltwater aquarium enthusiasts will be on board for this one. The murky nature just lets me know what this berliner is hiding underneathe, like those M.A.S.K. toys where a boring ass gas station turns into a battle station, this beer mobilizes for war like El Salvador. The smell is water watermelon pulp, O BANG, Mexican restaurant refreshments, light vegetal aspect, white seeds, and a sharp acidity on the back end. The taste follows the nose like Toucan Sam and takes you to a seedy burrito spot in the Mission almost instantly. The pulp and murkiness just serves as a vessel to the D-Day fruit war that is your back palate, the heavy artillery shells with sour bombs on the bitter zones throughout and several fruity purple hearts are awarded to all. YOU MADE IT SOLDIER. The vegetal aspect is the only “authentic” aspect I have a real complain with, the white rind seems out of place but adds authenticity to the brew. “Tell…tell my mom I died honorably, not juicing watermelons for an esoteric ::COUGH::: weisssss-”

This was my least favorite of the four, but it was still pretty cool, Mr. Heisenberg.

So there you have it, all four done in one review, and NO ONE SAID IT COULDN’T NOT BE DONE! And let me allay your concerns, no narrative today you greedy cocks, I can’t assemble these four beers into a fruit Voltron to- wait…that’s a brilliant premise. Maybe with the next Wakefield series you can see the chilling conclusion of what happens to Fruitron: Protector of Dade County.

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Cantillon Classic Gueuze, Tippin Backwards in the Belgian Chair on fo fo’s

Ah old Classic Cantillon, the gateway drug for many, sought by even more. I always love seeing this gem in boxes that I receive, yet surprisingly, I have never broke my back to seek it out. Just good fortune I guess, or Belgians are just making sure my tastebuds rally so hard. Either way, let’s see what this tart gem has to offer in classic style.

Man this site really took a dive in the old beer picture quality the last few days, oh well, you get what you pay for up in this HTML wasteland. At least I dont have pop under ads trying to lengthen your penis and refinance your home….OR DO I?

Cantillon classic 100% lambic, Gueuze 5.0%

A: It has a murky hay color to it with wispy tiny bubbles that make generous lacing. The glass seems to radiate the yellow 5 looking color throughout the body of the beer. It’s like a dirty lambic lemonade with a murky radiant desert lakewater aspect to it. The bubbles are wispy and dime out instantly, with nothing to contribute to the lengthy tastes presented.

Each time I have this, it hits hard, and is all over too quickly.

S: There is a mild apple and wet carpet smell to it. There’s white grapes and the smell of a coat after someone walks in from the rain. It is different, but still very appealing. I enjoy this but, after having St. Lam, fou foune, Blabaer and all the other cast of characters it is tough to go too nuts over this simple gem. It’s like the Impreza is bad ass, but if you have driven an STi on the reg, it doesn’t blow your mind anymore.

T: The funk is very present in the initial taste with a granny smith apple middle. The notes exhibit a mild sourness of grape skin with a lemony zest to it. This isn’t a tart bomb like some other Cantillon’s but I would say this is their consistent Honda Civic in the wheelhouse. It never seems to disappoint, I can say it’s a permaISO for sures, but there are some others that are similar and less of a pain in the ass to lock down.

Almost everyone I know is a whore for Cantillon, not everyone shows it off so readily.

M: The mouthfeel is crisp and light with minimal coating that tosses some acidic flavors like ninja stars in rapid succession and then peaces out just as rapidly. There is much peacing taking place.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable if you have a glass of water to cleanse the palate every once and again. It imparts a ton of dryness for the sweet notes it gives off. You end up with that movie theater “ate too many sour patch kids” sort of raw mouth. That sort of “Craig list has all kinds of deals” bitterness on the palate. That kind of bitterness. “Show the jury where this beer touched your palate on the doll” bitterness.

This beer trips all kinds of alarms, but in a good way, not 5am before a final sort of way.

Narrative: “Please…just let me go free…I won’t talk to anyone about this hidden Acai berry farm!” the covert agent pleaded dutifully with the farm hand, Brouwerj. “Well, I think the boss’d be pretty sore if he knew I was letting people go free all higgledy piggl-” “Ok cut! Everyone take 5. Mike, can I talk to you for a second?” The two left the set of the farmhouse and walked over to the confectionary table. “listen mike, I know that you know that I know you only got this role because I am dating your cousin. That is fine. But you have to listen to my direction notes ok? This is a Belgian farmhouse, in every single scene you come out with this Appalachian drawl. What is that?” “Weeeeell shucks I-” “YES, see that, don’t do that, you don’t even have to have a decent Belgian accent, just be yourself, ok?” The two went back to their places and the scene began a new. This time Mike’s radiance outshone even the lead roles as he eloquently delivered tart and cunning ad libbed barbs and pleaded in the wet hay with the title character. Not a single eye was left dry on that soundstage that dry. The boom mic bobbed mournfully between the sobs of the grip. In the end, the movie was cut to a single monoscene due to his riveting improvised speech while gathering apples and issuing a tearful goodbye to the secret agent. “CUT! That’s a wrap!” “Weeelllll shucks I-”

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Founder’s Cerise, Would a Cherry by any other name pop juice like this?

Ok so let’s get one thing straight, Founders does stouts like no one’s business. Their IPA program is also very good. However, once the rough road of sours and wilds present acidic gravel, my limited slip palate differential just gets rocked so hard. So is this the best cherry beer I have ever tasted? Let me save the suspense, unless this is Cable Car Kriek, then fuck no, but my point is, this might not even come close to the mark…OR DOES IT?

If you walk into this expecting some majestic kriek experience, check your high hopes at the door and go meet the grenadine escort.

Founders, Cerise, Fruit Beer,
Michigan dropping elbows, 6.5% abv

A: This has a hue akin to a ruby red grapefruit juice, it is translucent with light reddish orange luminescence. The carbonation is swift and exits quickly, not unlike the time I went to see Pootie Tang, starring the inimitable Chris Rock.

This is a refreshing blast you might want to avoid.

S: This smells similar to a white zinfandel with cherry notes added to it. There are sweet sticky grenadine notes and a dryness that pangs of oakiness. I have my fingers crossed that this doesn’t go all ape shit and hit that fruit juice and cider tone. Often times, the fruit shoes are illfitting and they readily follow the Toucan Sam maxim of following one’s nose.

T: It begins with a sweet juicy note, cherries of course but with a lingering acidic sweetness similar to a grape juice. It is a bit too sweet for my tastes, not as oppressive as the New Glarus Belgian Red train wreck, but this is a currant fender bender. The dryness and wine notes offer a wine cooler reminiscence that reminds me a bit of red champagne. This is strange, but you enjoy it if only for the innovation, not unlike going to see a Ray Romano stand up comedy show.

The elements are all in place but the execution leaves something to be desired like a stupid fucking 15 year old with a $700 camera who posts shit on instagram.

M: The mouthfeel is dry but the overbearing sweetness just submarines the gains that the innovation and tartness makes. It is difficult to focus on the coating and mouthfeel when there’s this din of sticky madness going on. Sure I can try and write the next great American novel at Boomers! But it just seems wildly inefficient. This shit is just too wacky, cherries all up in my dome piece.

D: This is light and has pleasant carbonation but, the sweetness just pangs the conscience and I feel like I am drinking fruit roll ups and melted starburst. It doesn’t go so far as being as saccharine as the energy drink fold, but it is still cloying. As a result, this remains sticky icky ooh wee, the likes of which I do not wish to put into the air.

The moral that I learned is that you need to prepare for disappointment from your greatest hero.

Narrative: “I just can’t do this anymore, I’m…I’m so sorry.” Ted Langston hung his head in shame. “What do you mean you CAN’T DO IT? It’s the 1990’s, get with it TED! People are on board, SMALL WONDER IS A HUGE SUCCESS!” Ted spun small circles with the toe of his shoe and shook his head in a recalcitrant fashion. “No, V.I.C.I just doesn’t make any damn sense. You’ve taken my science fiction sit com and turned it into a sticky sweet mess. I mean, have you watch the intro? The father is sitting on the grass laughing, that’s not the face of a man who just developed a fully functioning android daughter.” The FOX board official wiped his face with the utmost solemnity. “We have so much riding on this, the love triangle, the adopted asian robot brother that we were going to integrate, you’re…you’re just gonna give up on Small Wonder, just like that?” Ted rubbed his palms together and stared at the plaque on the wall “Young Artist Award.” “I’ve vested too much in this, it began as something amazing, a great institution, but here we are, 4 seasons deep, things are just sticky sweet and messy, there’s a what, what are we doing now a CLONE robot who talks in non-monotone? This doesn’t make any damn sense, there’s too much goddamn nonsense in this show!” He banged his fist on the mahogany table and delivered the absolute shall to the executives. “Alright Ted, but how about in season five we don’t add the alternate dimension, the adopted kid, the prohibition timeline time machine, the love interest for every main character, or the very special episode where V.IC.I. learns about sexually transmitted diseases, will that make you stay?” Ted was not a tart berry to be picked and pressed, besides, he had a new project, Clarissa Explains it All, through which to expound his existential views.

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Lost Abbey Veritas V009, Those Hot Crushes Start Out So Well, Then Turn Into a Sour Mess

Here’s a great beer, er, a beer that was great when I had it last July, but recently people have been going apeshit about how it has fallen off. Oh boo hoo, that size 0 rare girl you met in a club isn’t working out 10 months later? Well guess what, take your $35 and fuck right off because I am reviewing this old school, yeah, waving the Lost Abbey flag and letting people know that if you want a legit experience, drink it fresh. Lesson learned. Thank you Tomme Arthur. Anyway, let’s review this size zero beauty.

Maybe this was the bottle for v007, who knows, don’t act like you give a shit.

The Lost Abbey
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Murky muddy brown ale with a mucky thick edging that I initially misunderstood as malt until I understood that it was deep currant sediment and grape skins and then shut myself right the fuck up.

So everyone was expecting Yellow Bus meets V007, what is this? haters gonna something something.

S: Wow, where to begin, this has a huge bourbon character, then the figs and currant set in, jumping into the game is an apple/citrus apples aspect before the wood notes close it out. Ultimately it feels like a Thomas Pynchon Novel: the most complicated beer ever made that ultimately leaves you confused and wanting more.

T: It seriously is the most complicated beer ever made. Ok so at the outset you taste a deep caramel with some cherry that subsides into a deep heat that lingers into a sour cranberry. I have no idea how that they pulled this off but it is amazing.

This is tough to explain, it is robustly complex but after only 8 ounce of this, the diversity becomes redundant, like a college admissions pamphlet.

M: Here is how your life will proceed, in succession: deep chocolate cherries oh wait, who is that? Vinegar, wait that’s cool come on in, who else? balsamic fine but don’t be a-? Ok cool, she’s cool too, blackberries welcome, welcome uh sure, oh more dark fruits? Fine, I will just set out more placemats.

D: Well, drink ability reduces down to the operator, but I don’t want to call out the old chestnut that can drink a lot, or drink a few. What I am looking for would be the type of person who would literally drink an entire 32 oz serving of POM or grapefruit juice. He would pass my test. Put simply, this beer is so limited and so complex that if you were to take on an entire 24oz to your dome piece, you are an asshole.

Sure, in retrospect, this might not have been the best idea, but it was bad ass at the time.

Narrative: “Oh I am sorry Guillermo? Do you think something is funny about the plastic bag regulation?” He was berated by his superiors but deep down, Guillermo had an innate sense of humor. He grasped desperately at his job at the Marina Del Rey Sheritan but notwithstanding he had a latent skill that his superiors could not stand. “OH IM SORRY GUILLERMO? SOMEHOW THE KOI POND OVER FLOWING IS FUNNY TO YOU?” His face was beet crimson with this prospect. Guillermo took a sly pull of 23 year pappy van winkel and cooled out for a moment. “Wait, maybe you are operating on cultural stereotypes, maybe you are racist?” The group nodded in accordance and each in turn attempted to determine who was in fact racist. Guillermo secretly was a completely literate and inventive individual who simply enjoyed the fulfilling work of maintaining the grounds of a three star resort. “WELL I CAN’T..ehh…no…nooo…” his accent kicked back in and he looked off into the distance longingly. He was perhaps the most complex grounds keeper that the Sheritan had ever encountered.

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Monk’s Cafe Flemish Sour Ale, An Old Review for Old Souls

Hot damn, I wrote this review so long ago, I think I enjoyed this beer while watching the L.A. Rams crush the Los Angeles Raiders while listening to Spin Doctors on cas- you get the jist. A while ago. How my sour tastes have migrated, but this old gem is still a solid standby that deserves some mild affection, get you some.

Expert beer photos. Hire me for your wedding, bris, whatever.

Brouwerij Van Steenberge N.V.
Belgium
Flanders Oud Bruin | 5.50% ABV

A: Pours from the bottle with a mild head, no lacing, white with fast dissipation, thin and offwhite, eggshell even, the beer itself is a deep ruby brown, I enjoy it in the way that you want an Airhead when you haven’t had one in a while. It’s not like you pick up Airheads at the grocery store on the reg. but you know, a once in a while treat.

Ah a sweet nostalgic treat to remind you of days passed, a dead era of satisfaction with normal, readily accessible sours, back when you were cool but rude.

S: The smell makes you aware that fruit tannins and dark grapes and or currants and awaiting, and they are angry, they storm up your nostril not unlike an Al-Jazeera mob, giving your palate a warning shot for the tartness that they seek to impart

T: The front has a mild candy apple taste, not granny smith, sweet cherry flavor which mellows out to a sweeter candy finish, not tart, a bit like a lukewarm sour patch kid, only not in a disparaging way, like a high class sour patch kid with a monocle and a aplomb for references to Marcel Proust.

I am sure if you had enough of these, you could get into some crazy shit, look at me, i started with these gentle sours, now I huff paint down by the overpass.

M: the carbonation doesnt distract from the sweetness, the sour patch kid lets the bubbles pass like an elevator with unsavory folks exiting, then it is all sweet business. The sour is a secondary effect, the sweet is much more pronounced, it is more “bake sale mom” than “competitive track home housewife.”

D: Well what do you want from your beer? you want to be classy? pull out 11 oz bottles and show people your refined tastes? Ok well, this will do that but I cant seriously see anyone drinking a solid 4 pack of these. It’s kinda like a Lambic’s older brother who got a crew cut and a bomber jacket. You know deep down he’s still sweet, but that Tears for Fears patch just shows you he has more bite than he lets on.

This beer gives me so many feels of old times.

Narrative: These internet dating mixers are so lame, I am above this, but, if they only would give me a chance. I know on the outside I look like a beer, same old amber bottle they are used to, but inside i have so much character and personality, I am downright sweet. Oh great, look, they go for a strong DIRTY martini, I am here for them, my Jdate account get no hits…I TASTE LIKE CHERRY AND GIVE SWEET KISSES. Nice beers finish last, even my outside just says SOUR SOUR SOUR, great, now my belgium mom is gonna be all on my case about this, first my Kriek brother, now I just will sit around reading about all these other lowbrow Belgium strong ales who pull all the chicks. I dont need this, I need a girl who likes ME FOR ME, not because I look like Leona- OH HEY I DO WATCH DEXTER! No, don’t pick up that ZIMA fuuuu-

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Cantillon St. Lamvinus, One Hell of a Lambic, God Dambic.

People go loony for loonz. Cantillon is a hot button for beer nerds and European kids alike. A few of these bottles made it to the U.S. but if this was ever on a shelf in California, that shelf would only be found in the store manager’s house. So yeah, this beer is amazing and a complete pain in the ass to acquire. What else is new.

Dorothy Lamvinus was a saint.

Brasserie Cantillon
Belgium
Lambic – Fruit | 6.00% ABV

A: Nice ruby huge to a light magenta. It has micro bubbles with wispy lacing. It looks like a majestic wine cooler. If bartels and james won the lottery and went all high brow, this would be the result. Actually, if anyone won the lottery I would expect plenty of this all up in their house. This is about the closest that I get to wine, which is not very.

S: Huge tart notes with great strawberry, cherries, sour currants, and bitter grapes. Granny smith apple skins are there as well. This smells incredible. There’s that classic Cantillon musk, laundry hamper, Audi leather on a rainy day.

I cannot chill when loonz are involved. I need more, perpetually.

T: It has a crisp raspberry tartness that mellows into a smooth sweetness like a melted fruit rollup. It has a sour finish to it that imparts an incredibly refreshing dryness. This is one of the best Cantillon that I have had to date and it is one of the best Lambics that I have ever had. The vintage helped mellow it incredibly, even if it was only 2 years. The fruits interplay with the tart notes perfectly.

A little taste of Belgium, this beer is straight up showing me the world without Vanessa Williams.

M: It is incredibly light and juicy with minimal coating and chardonnay dryness that just stings and crackles in a fantastic way. The carbonation is like an army of diligent effervesence that makes sure the bitter notes are imparted with incredible efficacy. Again, just amazing balance all around. These reviews are hard to write and interject any levity because I am usually all half chub off the grapes and muskiness so I can’t focus on ways to talk shit on it. Serious problems.

D: This makes Consecration look like an imperial stout and Lindeman’s look like candy syrup. It is leagues above all other sours and lambics that I am familiar with. I could drink this in a boat, with a goat, green eggs and ham; etc. You could drink this with any food, at any location and it would be well suited. I feel that this could give white and red wine equal competition with pairings because it is so original and dynamic. I can’t imagine how blaeber could improve on this model but I am anxious to try [editors note, I tried Blabaer since I tried this and, it does improve on that model, not by a landslide but, blabbies gonna blab.]

Damn, grapes and musk, this loon can have all my digletts.

Narrative: Vitus Tanneen had been in some sticky jams before but this time, this time certainly was noteworthy. The walls of the trash compactor closed slowly, pressing the wine refuse closer into the chamber. The aluminum walls reeked of sweet grape skins and sticky notes. If not for the impending death, this would be an almost pleasant situation. “Well Sir Knuckles, looks like we are in a PRESSING SITUATION!” His friendly companion, Sir Knuckles, was an astute howler monkey with no penchant for puns. “WREE EE EE EEEK!” Sir Knuckles gestured imposingly to a hatch covered in sticky grape residue. “Well Sir Knuckles, this is one top that I have no hesitation to pop.” Using a wine opener, Vitus deftly unsealed the hatch and emerged into the bay area sunshine. “NOT TODAY KENDAL JACKSON! NOT TODAY!” He spun and his velvet tails swung after this athletic frame with the poise of a man, a man almost killed by grapes.

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Lost Abbey Framboise De Amarosa, Farmboise De Omarosa REEEMIXXXX 2012 CLUE CLUE DJ KAYSLAY THE DRAMA KING fee fee feenn feeennn.

Alright, so I don’t usually drop the beat and bring the track back unless there’s not enough snare in my headphones. In the case of last year’s Framboise De Amarosa, there was too much acidic tinny snare rankling my jimmies. I was straight rustled. So I figured I would give this a chopped and screwed 2012 flow for the masses.

Some people complain that there are too many sour reviews up in the cut like what these days. Don't worry, the days of shitty adjunct lagers and Solo cups is almost among us. The air is redolent with bluebell and azalea.

Lost Abbey Framboise de Amarosa
American Wild Ale 7.0% abv

Let me kick off this slow jam by noting that this is largely different from last year’s batch in that the acidity has been ratcheted in, they install some sick fruit forward headers, and catback raspberry exhaust. If you like a more subtle approach, you will enjoy it more, if you have dental insurance, you might like the old acidic approach, hey, whatever chases your Valtrex is cool with me homie.

Old craft beer enthusiasts are tough to impress.

A: There are deep ruby hues with some nice light carbonation and light red lacing. It’s like Hypnotiq’s baller ass raspberry flavor to be all sipping on while you’re cruising in your triple black Challenger. It looks a lil more murky than last year but on the Cuvee De Tomme tip, just a lil juicy juice.

This beer is confusing but strangely fulfilling. The mystery continues further this year. Uncel Doland appreves.

S: The smell presents an intense cranberry and acidic dryness with raspberry on the nose. The oak is present in the smell and it is has a juicy wine profile to it. It’s like Andre Rose Champagne but with leather seats and a cutty ass Gucci interior. The skins and crispness of the berries is more present and there’s less of a harshness on the low ph scale to this, and it is more approachable as a result.

T: The taste is still drying but doesn’t go balls out on the oak, it has more of a refined and balanced approach to the berry and interplay with the base beer. If last year was a caustic Fox news, this would be…The Raspberry Science Monitor? As it warms you get a jammy preserve sort of interplay that works well with the skins and wild ale base.

This is a sweet sassy gem with a sticky sense of shameful reproach when the glass is gone.

M: Again, there is an intense, huge crisp dryness. The mouthfeel seems like it’s an intense merlot with oak to round it out. It’s tough to determine exactly how thin or thick this beer is because the coating is so acrimonious. IT’S SUCH A DEEP BURN, OHHH DEEP SQUATS WITH SICK BOUNCING BETTIES, SICK DEAD LIFT FINISH BROMOROSA.

Raspberry deliciousness. TARGETS ACQUIRED.

D: This is an incredible experience with crazy highs and low to it. This is not a figure of balance, nor does it do anything in moderation. It is impossible not to recommend this exceptional beer to others. Clearly, it is not meant to be enjoyed as a sesssion beer and should be treated accordingly. The taste is so amazing that it is hard to knock it for adhering to a certain style so well. Overall it is incredibly bitter and juicy and I am left wanting more.

This amazing raspberry gem is a sign of cognition and awareness to come. FUCKING BREADCATS PEOPLE.

Narrative: The train of her ostentatious gown dragged upon the split staircase with wanton disregard for anyone walking near her. After all, there were plenty of tailors within her Parlor and weekly soirees that would readily repair any damage. Somehow Countess Brioche sought more than just the exploitation of the endearing faces of the working classes. She sought their unending love. Notwithstanding, her acerbic parents brought her up to speak her mind truthfully and freely at all times, no matter how scathing. “Oh-oh-oh!” The Duchess of Piedmont fell down two stairs to her knees upon the rich velvet of Countess Briochess’s train. “Your steps lack precision due to the mass pressed upon them.” Mme. Brioche commented and felt a slight pang at her ejaculation. It wasn’t fair to cut others so deeply with such a bitter acerbic purity. Somehow, in this acidic repartee, others saw themselves, and their own shortcomings, despite the caustic burns they received. Countess Brioche looked upon a bustling courtyard of servants who despised her, but respected her stinging candor.

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Funky Buddha Raspberry Berliner, For those days when actually eating fruit seems like too much of a hassle.

First and foremost, map props to my buddy Diego for making this little Florida dream come true. He sent me one of these gems as an apology for something that really wasn’t even his fault, so WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND THAT ONE. Funky Buddha knows how to whip up demand and turn out amazing beers, but today lets see if this juicy gem can take things to a Gushers level.

One of 23 bottles, people in Florida know the rules of supply and demand and cetacean farming.

The Funky Buddha Lounge & Brewery
Florida, United States
Berliner Weissbier | 5.00% ABV

First and foremost, look at that shit. It is damn near radioactive in its radiance. That is the look of something that you absolutely would never let you kids have and then they would go apeshit on at a sleepover, much to your chagrin. The thin body and light coating just lets those raspberry tannins ignite and light up the sky. Plus, I drank this in a bar so it looks like you are some lowbrow asshole who likes his Sprite easter pink (read: sizurp.) Anyway, the look is amazing but hands down, the most amazing part of this beer is the smell. Once it was opened it was like all those days spent in the everglade fields harvesting raspberries with Peruvian hired hands. Except, in my case I wasn’t being drastically underpaid and denied health care by- oh shit my soapbox broke. It is like taking DMSO and becoming one with a raspberry. The smell is so fresh and bright that you have a hard time discerning anything but fragrant tannins, mild bitterness from the fruit and a light juiciness.

This beer is unlike anything you are accustomed to, and you are likely never to see anything like it again. Drink it in.

I am talking about real raspberries, not like eating a Ring pop. This is one of the most fragrant beers ever and it’s like giving a hug to a 3rd grader but in a way THAT IS SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE AT SOCCER GAMES OK. The taste is light and a bit heavy on the body and imparts the bitter fruit tannin with a tart juiciness that is fantastic through and through. It technically isn’t on style but, not a single fuck was given, I shared this beer with like 55 people and everyone received a single molar unit so that all could espouse from the hilltops the glory of Floridians at large. I think between the readers of this site, we could literally track down every single bottle released. CONSIDER THAT A CHALLENGE.

Oh so you drank your only bottle of this rare ass beer? Well that sucks, eel with it.

I look back on raspberries past and think of sweet Lenore and out special place in the cave. People came by to take pics with the empty bottle, if that gives you any idea of the type of canonization that this juicy beast imparted, and all were unified. Straight up Edict of Nantes in this bitch.