0

McKenzie Brew House Saison Du Bois, Blanche Dubois Relying on the Courtesy of Strangers

|

SAISON MARATHON HAS TO REVIEW RARE SAISONS SOMETIMES TOO.

This rare ass saison practically fell into my lap and I completely lucked out being able to trade for this. I had zero hopes of landing something like this with a bottle count in the magical sub-400 level. I have found that landing these ambrosial treats, no matter how whaleish, is almost always easier than dealing with that pesky BA Stout and BA Barleywine territory. I am also fucking things up for those of us covert saison lovers with all of these reviews but, anything is possible if 50 fucked Vivica.

Straight up BIC pen on the label, 372 bottles .rars to the fullest, monster monster tickers I got it.

McKenzie Brew House
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.00% ABV

A: This has a beautiful aspect to it and just the right amount of carbonation and overall this saison hits the aristotelian mean on all fronts, not too spicey, not too dry, not too over carbed, just a solid Mario ass saison. The result is an exceptional exercise in moderation that is noteworthy for that very reason. This looks like a apricot juice and has a cumulus nimbus fluffy white crown to it.

400 bottle release? I would hit that shit.

S: This goes for an incredibly herbal aspect to it that lays out the sod first and seeds up some beds of wet turf, finally closing with a sort of lemon zest meets yearbook musk for the noscope headshot. I really enjoy it, despite the fact that it doesn’t lean entirely towards the light acidity that I enjoy out of my saisons. If every saison were the same they would be IPAs and what is the fun in that shit? Let hopheads initiate beer n00bs, I don’t have time for that shit. This is big boy beer bangers, more snare in my headphones.

The saison is a graceful, award winning style that is always a bit funky.

T: This follows the nose with a dryness and herbal aspect to it that reminds me almost of an herbal fernet branca sort of vibe that immediately gives way to that acidic aspect that I was looking for IN THE FIRST PLACE. The lactic aspects were not pronounced on the nose but then they lazily show up with oranges and tangelo in tow, imparting a post menopausal dryness that only Glenn Close could replicate. This finishes with a sort of chamomille aspect to it that is refreshing and relaxing at the same time.

M: No shocker here, you can’t snort rails of Earl Grey all day and not expect some dryness. Hell, if you rub darjeeling on your eurethra and go to town, you will last for hours. This saison is much the same way, herbal but provides that refreshing blast to keep your coming back for another drying sip. The light acidity gives this a finish like biting into an Anjou pear, straight up revitalizing.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, but you should have already picked that up from the foregoing. There’s this sort of clarity to the complicated elements that is united under the wheat and brett character. This is another one of those reviews where I tell you to seek out a 300 bottle release and end up looking like a twatwaffle, but, seek it out. Get on that grizzy.

Saisons might not be the most desired style of beer, but they are amazing on the inside.

Narrative: Dig, oxidize, seed, cover, aerate, hydrate, harvest; it was the same thing day in and day out at Sodtech Inc. The contingency of scientists and resident honduran lawn technicians worked away busily harvesting new strains of lusher and lusher grasses. The recent strain of fescue was redolent with bluebell and felt like those velour tracksuits that Persian housewives are wont to wear. Somehow, Adam Walters felt that this existence left something to be desired. Sure he patented an azure seedling that was hydroefficient, but ever since Claire left the lab, he felt a deep dryness in his heart. He was the head of his Botany class and revolutionized his hydroponics seminar but he could not forget her flaxen locks, the way she would add ammonium nitrate to the bedding solution. She was pure grace with gloves that smelled of Barefoot Chardonnay. Alas, perhaps being a grass lab provocatuer was not the most efficient way to court the ladies, knee deep in animal dung, thinking about fertilization that could have been.

0

Fantome Dark White BBB Saison, Black Hat, Black Shades, Dark White Ghost, Oh Behave.

|

Dany Prignon kills it in the saison scene and spares no hides when it comes to strange new takes on what was almost a completely lost style. This is my favorite style of beer from one of my absolute favorite breweries. I try to swing things around from brewery to brewery, but this particular beer was so damn strange and phenomenal that I had to give props to the ghosthunters in Soy and tell the haters to count those funky spokes. Bring your flashlight, we are telling ghost stories.

The BBB stands for Better Business Bureau, which is srs bzness in Belgium.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 4.00% ABV

A: This does not look like your typical saison outing and it looks more like a biere de garde in execution but aint nobody complaining. The carbonation is actually ratcheted back from the usual “cork hitting the ceiling levels that this crazy ghost loves to present. These bottles can be dangerous. There is a deep copper meets watery bronze look to this that goes off the beaten hay/golden/orange juice look of many other saisons, but ain’t nobody complaining. I enjoy the light lacing, little spotty foam like a jacuzzi that has too many people in it.

If you open this at a tasting, you instantly become the pimp of the year

S: This has a light lactic tartness on the nose that is faint and reminds me of Fuji Appleas, you get a little bit of musk like puppy fur, and there’s some hay and faint herbal aspects to this. Everything feels like it has been turned down a couple notches. It is a gentle Fantome, the most chill of the ghosts, timid but sweet in execution.

T: This has an incredible musk meets light tartness to it like lightly salted hawaiian rolls. The mild honey pokes its head through the curtains and sees that its stepdad, lemon peel, has attended the rehearsal. All is well. This is simple but incredibly refreshing in the sweet meets light funk and light tart. Everything is just gentler and drapes a bretty shoulder over your shoulders to comfort you.

If you plan on getting into Fantomes, say goodbye to your expensable income. srs.

M: This is incredibly light and crisp as the same time. The watery aspects wash away clean, leaving you no time to ruminate over that should have been. The splishy splashy aspects make this on the Hill Farmstead Clara level of refreshing drinkable. If this bottle wasn’t $15.99, it might actually be sessionable, but I don’t know how hard you ball. I could drink this all day while watching a Night Court marathon, but that is how I roll.

D: Again, just exceptional in the way that it is present and memorable but doesn’t make the entire date about itself. It lets you tell canned anecdotes and nods lovingly in a refreshing manner. I love how the crisp tartness washes away immediately and the light funk gives it a solid backbone to lean its ghostly ass upon. My only complaint is that a beer this refreshing and simple should COST LESS, but that is hardly a fair criticism to lay upon the beer itself. Beer don’t know about no economics.

This is a little darker than I expected, but no one is disappointed.

Narrative: Construction of the trebuchet was not going as planned. Despite Leonardo’s assurances of improved design, the siege would invariably take longer than anticipated and the fields of Milan would remain in Ducal control. Salvatorri doffed his cap and kicked a rock in front of him and looked out upon the Palazzo. “We-a never-a gonna finish this-a siege!” he bemoaned in what could only be deemed a completely racist dialect. The counter balance was all off and the projectiles wouldn’t make it over the dominating granite walls, design to repel Papal control. Just then, a fantasm appeared out of the olive groves, glowing a deep golden hay color, wearing an anachronistic bowler cap. “Weeeeell hey fellas! Plannin a castle takeover? THAT SURE SOUNDS SWELL!” the ghost smiled and draped his ethereal arms around the 15th century soldiers. “mio Dio!” Salvatorri exclaimed, but was instantly put at ease by the gentle approach and amiable smile of this old ghost. Some would call him, Booberryesque. The lazy approach to things and finesse put all of the Romagna troops at ease and soon enough, the old catapult was as good as new. Later, while impressing Milanese people into forced servitude and accepting plenary indulgences for killing traitors, that old easy going ghost showed up again, wearing a pair of overalls and a straw hat. Salvatorri continued pushing a dirk into a wailing serf and winked back and that old trickster ghost.

1

Surly CynicAle, For All The Sophists, Cynics, Epicureans, and Stoics

|

SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS SAISONS IN CANS.

I figured for saison week, we have to have something relatively NORMAL up in the mix so that people don’t think that Saisons are exclusively for pretentious assholes. This saison is not only 1) amazing and 2) off the shelf but it also 3) comes in a can. That means you can slam this shit at the lake, while installing that body kit on your 1997 Eclipse GST, or while watching your kid play teeball. This is a rough and tumble sessionable saison that is ready for combat at all times. This may not have a huge funk or wild aspect to it, but god damn it if this isn’t a refreshing example of the style. Let’s pop open some cans in today’s review:

Being Cynicale can make you emotional.

Surly Brewing Company
Minnesota, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.70% ABV

A: This has a radiant gold color to it with an incredible amount of carbonation that rises to the occasion. There is a moderate amount of lacing and the whole affair is bright and uplifting like a Michael Bay movie where you know that the saison hero is going to come out on top. There isn’t a ton of cling or thickness to the carbonation and it subsides like the emotions of a teenage girl, pretty quickly.

Kill a 4 pack of this, wake up in the morning like “the fuq we do?”

S: This is the most straightforward telling of the saison story that I have had in a while. Since it is pasteurized you obviously don’t get any musk or funk or wild characteristics. However, what is lacks in the wild, it makes up for in the decadent sweet treat department. There’s a deep honey and clove and bubblegum smell to this beer and a cornbread backend like pies cooling on old timey windowsills. There’s also a light peach/pear aspect going on but it is like the background vocals in a Coheed song, you hardly notice them at all.

T: This is incredibly refreshing from the outset with a nice punch of clove and pepper with some bisquik biscuits and some bubblegum that has lost its flavor. It is tough to describe that lingering waxiness but it is delicious and washes away clean. There are some light fruits and a sort of buttery biscuit finish. Again, this isn’t the most ambitious example of the style but at least it doesn’t go on some Surly hop rampage.

This is a strange beer, but totally enjoyable.

M: This is incredibly light and makes you wonder why anyone tries to session any other type of beer when this has the abv, the finish, the look, and the YM charm that gets those teenagers so feided. The whole affair is a flavor bomb with minimal effort. The 16oz can is appropriate and I wish I would get these as extras more often because I rarely want to go out of my way to seek this out on its own because it never seems to last long in my house. BigLobo sent me a 4 pack of it and that shit was merked like John Connor at a Skynet convention.

D: Read the foregoing, this is exceptionally drinkable and totally affordable. The thing I don’t understand is why it is only for sale in places that are frozen for 80% of the year. Ain’t nobody tryna drink a farmhouse ale while ice fishing or whatever it is they do in Minnesota while they aren’t watching the Twins and Vikings lose.

This beer will get you feided on that purp.

Narrative: Sally Weathers was a content housewife enjoying the gentle respite provided by fall in Minnesota. The children were busy outside playing in an igloo that they had just constructed and she lovingly nodded while chopping the iced root vegetables for her famous tundra cabbage stew. It seemed as though the harvest season passed so quickly this year that she scarcely had time to break out the summer jackets from storage. “WHOMP!” a snowball struck the window and she playfully waved a knife at her child through the kitchen window while watching her son jump around in the 9 inches of September snowfall. She longed for the growing seasons that she enjoyed as a child in Salinas, California. She missed receiving that mortgage statement and paying well over $3,000.00 to live in a land not completely forgotten by the civilized world. Those majestic 42 days of sun seemed to pass so quickly, but it was hard to leave when the State paid her family not to leave. Furthermore, work at the ice harvesting farm was plentiful and she could take vitamin D supplements and wait for the sun to return. Life in Minnesota wasn’t easy, but at least she didn’t have to harvest superficial Persian interactions, elective surgeries, American Apparel clothing, and emotionally bankrupt aspiring actresses. Life is all about compromises like the passing of the seasons.

Image
1

Wale Tastings with too. Many. Fucking. People.

20121202-141726.jpg

It is about that time of year when everyone wants to plan an epic tasting. The problem usually is, everyone wants to join or everyone only has a single wale to contribute. So what happens? Fucking 19 people at a tasting sharing 22oz walez and discussing the nuances of their thimble dick pours.

If you are gonna harvest blubber, scale back your frigate. You don’t need an epic squad on deck. If you do roll that deep, you will get 1 molar unit of Dirty Horse and can you then attempt to actually review it?

Here is what the reviews should look like for 90% of the epic wale tastings:

“A: uh the light entirely permeates the single drop I received. S: smells like an empty 6oz snifter, glass, air. T: oxygen, slight moisture M: coats just the top on your tongue well D: the raindrop I received was substantial, would drink again 5/5”

Full pours. Small crews. Real reviews. And underage fapping.

2

Fantôme Extra Sour Special Original Creation, The Tartest Ghost To Inhabit Your Liver

|

It is no secret that I love saisons, within that penumbra exists Fantome, a ghost who haunts the cockles of my heart. So what happens when Fantome releases ~600 bottle release of extra sour, incredible saison? The world fucking ends, that’s what. I had the hardest time landing this. I tried to hit up my Hill Farmstead friends and they sold out immediately, then I bought one online, OOPS OVERSOLD IT, so they returned my order. I gave up hope. All was lost. UNTIL MY FRIEND TIM SAVED THE DAY FOR NO REASON. So here’s to Fantome, here’s to Dany Prignon, and here’s to Tim. Saison week just wouldn’t feel right without an epic Fantome up in the mix.

I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 10.00% ABV

A: This is just a radiant turbid murky little lightning bolt that looks messy, but inviting at the same time, like sticky cinnamon rolls. The carbonation, as usual, is out of control. Some Fantomes you just set down and let them get their shit together because you look like a 17 year old pouring his first beer with these saisons. The lacing is minimal but the whole glass just radiates light like when you corrode something in Borderlands, yellow edition. This is staggeringly pretty, Ithaca Brute levels of prettiness.

At 10% abv, this doesn’t feel ruff at all.

S: The smell takes the normal saison offering and kicks up the lactic and pineapple elements to a juicy new realm. There’s a huge funk monster that is musky like wet leather and makes you think you left your bike outside in the rain. You get a slight element of peach and pear from the acidity and some old attic aspects from the closer. A strange, yet incredible quaff to it.

T: This is the smoothest 10% that I think I have ever encountered. The abv is masked brilliantly and there’s a creamy tartness at the outset like an orange julius, You get some residual wheat aspects from the middle body but it washes away into a funky pumpkin patch hay bale sort of musk. The whole beer is aggressive and takes saisons to dangerous new territory.

Fantome is serious business. Let the shortsighted n00bs have all the BA stouts.

M: The mouthfeel is dry, but not excoriating, the abv just sits back and orders the tart drones to do palate strikes. Again, this beer is not SOUR, per se. I have read reviews where douchenozzles complain that it wasn’t some lactic bomb that makes Cantillon blush. This is about as tart as a saison can get while being remotely to style. Some would argue that the 10% abv and huge fruit presence almost takes this into a new realm but to me it feel like a heavyweight boxer who tricked officials into letting him tear up the lower classes. On that note, this bottle was $35, so I doubt many lower classes are enjoying this.

D: This is scary drinkable, to the point where it hits the “MARVEL vs. CAPCOM 2” level where you can trick the fuck out of your friends with this trojan horse of a beer. You can drink this bad boy anywhere. Pull this out at a baby shower, enjoy your 10% treat and it looks like pineapple Ocean Spray and no one is the wiser. So, someone hook me up with another bottle please.

This beer takes saisons to SHOCKING NEW LEVELS. Tap low punch repeatedly to recover.

Narrative: Jerry’s Juice Emporium was failing miserably. First and foremost, people in Nebraska had an aversion to produce on par with 15th century Marseilles serfs. The midwest contingency just did not see what natural things growning on trees had to offer when Brach’s could make fruit snacks that were far more portable. One day, Jerry had the ultimate idea of leaving fermenting barrels of apricot and orange preserves mixed with the wheatgrass out back to make a SUPER SMOOTHIE BOOST. The usual crowd from Curves would pass, or sometimes enjoy a 700 calorie Milk Chocolate Protein MooMax shake, but never fruit. “Wait, what’s this here, HUNGER GAMES SMOOTHIE!” one patron who was likely named Tanya exclaimed. “Well no, it says hunger grain, but you, nevermind, sure.” She hurriedly ordered the juicy hay concoction and immediately felt as rosy as when she was 16 years old, just prior to her first child. “Imma keep my eye on you! I BE FEELING LIKE KATNISS ON THIS ONE!” The high alcohol content was completely masked and more empty pre-diabetic housewives came in droves. And that is how Belgium conquered the dustbowl. Fin.