This beer was fine I guess. A standard pilsner that was like if you took Pivo and randalled it through kale and THC vape oil. It didn’t adversely affect my Assassin’s Creed experience or materially contribute to it.

Pirating continued uninterrupted.

Is it possible to drink an entire growler of Live Oak hef week after week?

I am damn sure going to try.

Proof that you don’t need an ultra expensive (er $80 retail) or super aged bourbon to present a delicious bouquet of sweetness balanced with subtle oaky presence. It doesn’t linger or overpower, it offers up a humble butterscotch treat and is confident you will enjoy the one dimensional warmth and simple pleasures of candied wood.

At least that’s what I think. Who knows. This is a beer website jeez

Two Xyauyus. Who live like dis

BREAKING NEWS:

So Cigar City’s Catador Club, a motley assemblage of furious F5 refresh masters, has amazingly shattered the website for bottle sales, once again. This time is took place even for a fictional pint under pretend conditions. This group will disembowel a server for a mere pint of Tocabonga red, just imagine what they can do to your Snapchat account. It would be like the Fappening times 1500.

The page refresh abilities of these monsters cannot be reasoned with, their power is unknowable and overwhelming. Countless Templars fused to create this army of mouse clicking Archons, whose very essence is grinding websites in their ever hungering maws.

It’s like in shitty action movies where some lab engineers a super soldier and, oh fuck no way, they can’t control it, has science gone too far. Cigar City assembled an elite team of ex World of Warcraft athletes who seek massive stouts for succor. The Florida deep water Everglades has produced this mouth breathing army that will rip servers limb from limb in their hunt for liquid caloric comfort.

So their solution? Catador Lotteries for all bottle sales from now on. Cigar City simply cannot have these salami nipples pressed on their glass any further, the regular people are getting disturbed. One geriatric woman described their conduct as “a crying shame” however to be fair she expressed the same sentiment when the deli was out of rye bread.

Florida may only be second in Death Penalty executions, but they are easily #1 in page refreshing deviants. Let’s just hope the ale-based Powerball eludes their sweaty jowels. Godspeed, just leave the Orlando Nickelodeon studios in tact, for the love of all that is holy.

You only Unicum once that’s the motto of the YOUcO

I have been waiting literally, fucking, years to tick this elusive retired Golden Girl. In 2011 I had this Adam Jackson swerve where I wanted to hit all the HF offerings and no one in 2010 seemed to hang onto a Swingtop of this random saison offering. IMAGINE THAT. So I waited. Then I gave up.

So we have a dry hopped farmhouse ale, so far so good but how does this set itself apart from the litany of other Saisons in the HF lineup, longer than a list of Biblical kings. Well for starters this is probably one of the hoppiest Saisons that them Verde Mont boys have kicked out in a while. It almost reminds me of a muskier riff on Edward but with distinctively farmhouse roots.

The nose reminds me of montueka or mosaic hops, dry and earthy but a touch of romaine and lemon essence. It is hoppier on the nose than the taste would suggest and the taste follows suit with a lightly bitter opener akin to arugula or grapefruit pith, it sublimates into familiar territory with that distinctive Arthur/Anna aspect without the lemon and merengue going on. Instead it presents a sort of earthiness like doesjel or de Ranke XX bitter.

Ultimately this is a welcome refreshing entry that is like the “Herfst” to Anna’s Zomer. It isn’t as bright but feels more aserose and conifer in its panache. The carb is fantastic and the build quality of all HF Saisons is present, like when you buy a Ducati, regardless of the specs you know it is airtight engineering. This would be a fantastic gateway drug to your hophead friend who doesn’t know shit, and you want to help him to a life of fulfillment instead of ibu chasing.

Certainly worthy of your attention, particularly if you already enjoy the other entries in the series, this would be like Empire Strikes Back, some will call it their favorite and will make a compelling argument others may not agree with, but in the end it has undeniable complexity and charm.

FINAL jeopardy: it takes one of these to land Dorothy:

Ah Council brewing, these minxes continue to fly under the radar in no part due to the what, THREE THOUSAND BREWERIES, in the US today. But what of this new IPA? Anything to twist your nips over?

At the outset, This has an unusually dark srm to it which set my complaining meter abuzz. But them again this growler is a full 10 days old so maybe I am the asshole. Maybe it was radiant and beautiful at the outset. Who knows. At any rate , it’s not particularly beautiful but, people still drink Bell’s Oracle every year so nothing surprises me anymore.

The nose is a sort of bell pepper, cracked peppercorn, honey and a resinous piney finish to it the seems to lean hard on a mosaic profile but with an inclination to showcasing those top end alpha oils.

The taste is dry and presents a touch of initial sweetness that transitions to a lightly floral and arugula type of dankness like them red hairs brooooo. Sticky dabbers, that dryness is straight vaping in the airport status. It is incredibly drinkable and the abv is beautifully masked. I could see this pairing so well with Indian food or just crushing this before you ex shows up to pick up his box of shit because who does he seriously think he is anyway, you’re better off without him.

This isn’t as good as gavel drop, but it serves a less worn path, a nuanced sort of consumer who wants an imbalanced resinous IPA that drinks exceedingly clean and cuts those cones aggressively.

If nothing else, this is certainly a brewery to watch, shit it’s better to watch than your binge marathons of The Good Wife, do you really even like that shit?

15% abv for deep pump and liver failure on the big climbs n0x shred sweating heaven hill on the straights

Grinding on that wood , grind, grinding on that wood.

Side project is a brewery known more for panache in execution and excess in monoculture rather than nuanced gentle representations to style, so a soft biere de pays gave me pause knowing their bold framework of tart farmhouse ales. This did not disappoint and is executed in a strangely restrained fashion out of comport with the rest of their catalogue. The nose is pear and peach blossom, a touch of lemon zest and a faintly brackish salinity in the waft. The taste is exceptionally refreshing and evokes Carmelized pear, lemon merengue, fresh cut grass and a sort of Riesling oakiness that is soft and diaphanous on the gum line. The acidity never oversteps it’s boundaries and serves as a supporting character rather than chewing the scenery. The mouthfeel is like biting into a fresh nectarine and washes away clean with a hard alkaline profile that leaves nothing residual on the palate and begs for larger swallows.

It’s hard to beat sweet succor and jokes when something is this gentle and well done, I could go for some midget porn references or try and work up some child skin callbacks, but we shall live to yuk another day. Suffice it to say, this is a phenomenal beer and oddly the most overlooked from the Side Project releases, which is quite the travesty.