This was surprising and a simple stripped down riff on the ever clunky dipa segment. I guess it’s congruent with their marketing but this is just directly focused citra/Amarillo [?] type of citrusy refreshment, sustained carb with spun sugar lacing that pushes a bouquet of kumquat, forest air wick, and cut melon. In the Vodka world people twist their nips if the Vodka has no taste. This is the dipa equivalent where it is so well integrated that it’s noteworthy in how clean and easy it is to drink. An odd feat in itself when you look around you in the increasingly perplexing dipa subcultures swerving everywhere from baker to Miller to saisonnier. Mixed spec characters everywhere.

I love trying new things but sometimes you get too far in the deep end and realize maybe trampling isn’t your thing. Just behold that gorgeous IPA color on this one, my laughable pour notwithstanding, this is far from a pretty beer. The nose is intensely bitter and reminds me of oversaturated dry hopped cones, when things start taking a turn for the arugulaesque. There is a fruit interplay this is like a B plot further complicating things, peach hookah and and oily earthiness. It’s like if you dropped your nectarine on the ground while camping and just tried to brush some of the pine needles off before getting back up in it. The label noted some Crowdsourced aspect to this but, I don’t even want to tread that ground, this is complicated enough as is. The swallow is actually pretty nice and this beer isn’t flabby or poorly attenuated, just a bizarre malty pitted chimera. Wisconsin drinks more beer than any other state, except perhaps not this beer.

Woke up to not one but two massive donation boxes from Wisconsin. The generosity from some people amazes me considering the fact that all I do is run a janky WordPress site and make lazy fingerbanging jokes.

Thank god, a Huna heir that isn’t a fucking spicy chili driven Horchata riff. What I love about wolfs ridge is they are restrained as fuck, like the beachwood BBQ of Ohio. This beer out the gates is lightly spice and a nice round roasty stout and the coffee plays an overture that luls the malts gently. The swallow is a touch watery and drags like a chai latte froth. It was a touch better than the regular ass Huna and Mexicake, but begs for the depth and complexity of barrel aging. Nicely done but not the best in segment and this brewery excels in the weirder niches of clean runs on other styles.

Got that purpy lean in my double cup. When someone offers to hit me with something from a local spot, I always approach it with extreme derision. If I remotely appreciate anything made within a three state radius of my home draws all these wonky ass cries of Homerism. Like ddb gives a shit about yeasty geopolitics. This problem is compounded when the local brewery is actually good: there’s nothing funny about that. Who the fuck wants to dig in for some blackberry superlatives? Fuck out of here miss me with that 9min YouTube review tier shit. This is raspberry lacroix with absolutely fantastic carb, reminds me a lot of a more gentle The Purple with a smattering of Casey blackberry fruit stand: the skins buttress the minerality wih some kind of Gamay meets Rosé. I just started my period basically. Watery closer has a floral dryness like French oak and flowerbomb perfume. I don’t expect any ddb readers to have ever made it close enough to a female to know that scent. I made it through the whole bottle of lean without any Cankersores and for some acid factories fronting as American saison purveyors, not dissolving the mandible of your consumer is almost an accomplishment by default. Some GED tier dipshit here for dog memes is about to comment “to many words!!1! LOL do the pourin drain!!”

Heeeee was a meek Hand job, this is exhausting to keep lauding praise when Monkish keeps killing everyone. I know Treehouse bruhs are already having an Infinite Jest MAltdown bc their economy is expanding and collapsing. you already know how good this is because it’s the exact same shit. They spin a RNG wheel and the. Just make s other world class dipa. So fuck them, I guess. Stop being the best. If you have the time to stand in a 90 min Tuesday afternoon line then go for it. But people folding their arms indignant as fuck offering up a barrel aged stout mad that this dipa commands crazy shit is the echo chamber of sonic youth cognitive dissonance. Both are stupid as shit. Don’t be a style elitist, and please god don’t cover barleywines. I will fuck u up

Listen I don’t like typing this and I know you don’t want to hear this: this might be the most accessible to quality Beer this side of [every year except this year’s] Parabola. Say all you want and twist your areolas about macrobeer and toxic ownership, I get it. I don’t want to get into those weeds but the quality of this is undeniable, slick heft without a lack of control, a degree of waffle cone intent that never feeds into a yankee candle flatland one dimensionality. The nose doesn’t exude rye sadly and the spirit could even be neutral oak because the bean oils are so dominant, but it’s fine: the end result is Kit Kats for days. One drawback is a touch of sharp spice akin to oversteeped coffee that is likely the rye showing up at the end of the elementary school performance to tell his stupid stepson he went. We get it, you’re Joseph or whatever. The mouthfeel has lean power like that dude with a tight frame that powerlifts and if he tried to kiss you you’d like resist but not hard because you feel so safe- wait what were we talking about. Nice Vanilla, nice slice of coldstone fellatio, but not in the god tier realm of cream churners. But still like a GOLF R, damn impressive and a lot of drumstick cost to bean ratio.

I had never heard of @fortgeorgebeer before but god damn this is a dazzler of a lemon meringue IPA. Has the pnw pulled a silent little gambit where they are secretly crushing these dank cans and generating zero fanfare? This is distinctively creamy, lightly muddled mandarin, a lil eucalyptus and 7th grader backpack sticky Nugs. It’s like if a TOOL fan worked at a dispensary bakery. Low pulp like Donald Duck, but a nice residual oiliness straight out of a Holistic Medicine book store. This is one of the best hoppy beers I have ever seen out of the pnw, I sense a distinct Great Notion presence up in this bitch but the sum is greater than its components. If this is easily accessible then those seasonal affected disorder traders can hang up their fedex spurs. 

I met some hops the other day, when I asked how much I had to pay. I thoroughly enjoy what Tombstone is doing across all style guidelines, it’s a very versatile crew but their greatest skills are decidedly spec’d in hoppy dps as a rogue class summoning rhizome familiars. They seem to take the NEIPA model and then ratchet it back just a touch, feathering the throttle gently to let that gurgle of apricot, tangelo, zested grapefruit come in a low rumble out the catback manifold. It isn’t trub but it isn’t west coast 2row asceticism. It’s this weird balanced decadence where it is oddly pretty and doesn’t come across as watery as some NEIPA “all dry hop bruhhhh” but isn’t crystal to the point of sticky offputting Midwest execution. They thread the needle beautifully, and this tangerine and conifer endeavor is intensely crushable, the croosh index is as supple as the pine cones it evokes. You can step on this shit all day. The finish has a faint sweetness like a lemon danish dipped in vape oil. The whole thing is exceptionally well done and they are secretly ramping up quality with each batch. Ground Control has a solid little hookup here and I’m hoping AZ locals take a bit of stress off the already heated CA can market. Maybe even compel reverse saturation and some of CAs inland empire people leave and go embrace their true melanoma sand spirit. We can only pray, 951 lifted silverados and 909 busted ass WRX exodus.

You’ll be accepting my apology. For taking beer too seriously. So we got more hoppy upstarts coming out of the southwest with sticky resin dripping like abalone jewelry. Blue turquoise belt buckles and dream catchers abound: the beer itself is pretty legit if not a touch too sweet for my tastes. There’s a bready cornbread honey component that provides ample stage for the high alpha acid hops to strut upon. It’s the choreography that cloys. The most shows phenomenal balance and gives cut melon with Christmas wreath, but the body is too substantial and it feels like an odd dialed back TIPA. The end result is a long line drag that feels poorly tailored like JNCO jeans, or maybe this is the palate equivalent of accommodating massive pipes for those orange skin locals. Dangerously drinkable at 9% and the honey closer makes it almost like a massively hopped tripel in a way. Their decision to sell this in four pack cans means someone is gonna get a lil too aggro at the day spa and wrap a golf cart around a fake Totem. Calling it now. You only learn by not believing that the beer industry is unforgiving.