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Coors Brewing Blue Moon Belgian White, Because Your Stepdad Isn’t Watching the Kardashians Sober

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You knew it would come to this. We have been slaying wales and enjoying our time in the sun, but now the time for around fucking has long since elapsed: it is time to confront the Blue Corn Moon. I am going to show you assholes how to paint with all colors of the wind in today’s review:

Apologies to Shaun Hill for the misuse of the glassware, we are slaying wales today.

Coors Brewing Company
Colorado, United States
Witbier | 5.40% ABV

A: This has a hazy orange aspect to it and frothy cloud of mediocrity that dances playfully so as to say, “don’t worry, having a second kid isn’t the end of the world.” A panacea for pedestrian problems. The lacing is insubstantial but it looks the part of a summer beer, something you can drink when you are 14 years old and you can’t really fuck the world up that badly yet.

If you wanna be the best damn beer served at a Prince concert, BE THAT SHIT.

S: The smell is kinda like that girl who you always cheated off of in Algebra, standard, but forgetable. It has some light biscuit qualities, pale malt, a light orange zest, and a lil bit of coriander on the backend but I am talking like 1 molar unit. This is all irrelevant though because you will probably be drinking this out of a plastic cup with half an orange dunked in it anyway, looking out over the shitty waterpark, wondering how your life ended up this way.

T: This has a mediocre biscuit and conrbread quality with an emphasis on hackneyed wheat execution. In the realm of witbeers, this would be somewhere inbetween a Chevy Aveo and a Daewoo Lanos. It will get you to your middle management job at Golden Corral, but no one is going to be turning their heads in stern reverence of your chunk of orange sitting on the rim of your 22oz glass. It tastes like it smells with a watery wheat profile, some orange notes that seem almost synthetically added there via the beer equivalent of photoshop.

Dude you have a Blue Moon, what?

M: This is watery with some mild foamy expansive corn and biscuit maltiness. You get the traditional pale aspects and some light drying from the orange. Describing this is like using an electron microscope on a loaf of bread because extrapolating the nuances from something this simple seems to belabor the point. You have probably had this beer a million times before at Applebees, why the fuck am I even reviewing this?

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and it will be the taste you remember when you are booked for public intoxication. The type of people who drink this don’t read my site and the type of people who brew this go home from their factory jobs and watch Storage Wars, but, it IS drinkable. Water is also drinkable on a long hike, but it doesn’t have biscuits and orange rind floating around in it. This beer will get the job done at a Sugarland concert if the venerable Shocktop isn’t available. At a certain point I just look at the prospect of getting a mild buzz from this and think of the 150 calories wasted in the transaction.

After 9 of these at a Pony convention, you will never drink (this beer) again.

Narrative: Life at the Sunkist packing line wasn’t how Jacob Killigan saw his life culminating. He was in charge of 31 people and his regional director said that his efficiency yields were exemplary. He even had various certificates printed from a bubblejet printer lining the walls of his modest cubicle evidencing how qualified his fruit harvesting efforts were. Still, he would come home at night to his Birmingham home and look at the Billy Bass on the wall and pop open a Red Stripe and wonder how it all came to this. In high school he played noseguard and people loved his S10. Oh how those slackjawed Alabamian women, so ripe with indiscretions swooned when he hit the bags. THE BAGS. He exhaled and tossed the cap across the room into his Kansas City Chiefs trashcan and turned the TV on. He took a deep sip and felt an existential crisis on an uneducated level, there had to be more out there than re-runs of Celebrity Apprentice, but what? He would toe the cusp of greatness at the Sunkist factory, until he meets a biscuit mouthed Denny’s waitress who has just started a jewelry business on Pintrest. True love.

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TWO TRILL REVIEWS FOR THE PRICE ($0.00) OF ONE: Grand Teton Pursuit of Hoppiness & Bruery Berazzled

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Grand Teton pursuit of hoppiness imperial red 8.1 abv

A: This beer is amber with reddish blood orange hues in the center, medium lacing, and a solid amount of middle carbonation.

S: The smell gives off sour notes from the hops almost akin to a bitter cherry, it doesn’t seem herbal it’s like a tart raspberry/citrus note to it.

T There is a mild tart front with a big hoppy herbal backend like biting into a black cherry with a herbal center, and WE HAVE ALL BEEN THROUGH THAT. The fruit notes lead you back to their dorm room but then you see the blacklight posters and hear the Cypress Hill mp3s playing and you know, the herbal is the underlying aspect.

M the mouthfeel is a bit thin for the style but still good overall. It gives it solid versatility in hot weather, very drinkable and it comes off like a solid into beer for people who have an aversion to all out double ipa’s but would tolerate something a bit sweeter. Poseidon pulls some tricks and a trojan horse maneuver leverages your tongue to take big glups of what turns out to be a bitter beer.

D: This is tough to just because this is where the balance is a bit subjective; because if the hops and mild tartness is cloying you likely won’t be on board for many of these. However if you enjoy the borderline lambic meets ipa feel is something you are into, you’ll be reaching for more. This doesn’t come off like most imperial reds, it has an interesting character to it and it should be allowed to reach into the prize chest. Oh, spider ring, yeah the prize chest is pretty much all spider rings.

Show up at the store, find this interesting offering.

Bruery Berazzled Sour

A: It is amber with light pink hues at the edges. It appears tame enough, similar to Madame Rose or the like, but with this crackly disposition that is like a sassy ruby housemaid that quips at the head of the household with juicy aplomb.

S:: There is a raspberry tartness with an incredibly drying wine profile. The nostrils recoil at these scorched earth scents. The lactic and acidic vinegar is a solid foreshadowing of the acid bath your taste buds are going to be subjected to.

T: Holy hell. This is an incredibly tart sour that presents an incredible acrimonious punch. If you thought that the Framboise de Amarosa was over the top, this feels like it was made in a lab. The bitter tartness is incredible and it makes me flinch and the drying is relentless. I feel like I am being hazed into the Gueuze Delta Wild house.

M: The mouthfeel is very thin and tingly all over. Again it is at its core just super drying and angry. The funk mixes with the heat and tastes almost like reduced sour skittles. The tannins and Brett give it a strange incredibly acidic character that is tough to get down initially, but as it warms it becomes more fruit forward and pleasant.

D: Again it is all spikes and sharp skins all over. It is an understatement to say that this is tough to put down for the novice beer drinker. I love most every Bruery endeavor but this seems to be bordering on a punitive mad science project enacted by the bicamerial legislation of the house of Sour Ropes and Lemonhead Senate. I can’t support this kind of chicanery beyond an example of pure madness.

It is an interesting spin on a nonstandard offering.

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Fantome Clos Preal Batch 2, Ghosting Harder than a Terran Nuke

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You ever watch a Megadeth video and have no idea what the fuck is going on? That is kinda what is going on with this fantasm. The ornate packaging is so high handed for the amazing artisinal fantome saisons that you are accustomed to, but you feel special. This was only available in Belgium as far as I know and the hefty 10% abv caught my eye. I love this brewery and this style, so let’s see if Fantome continues to exorcise the dead in today’s review:

Ghosting harder than a Terran nuke.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Bière de Garde | 10.00% ABV

A: This is as fantome as it gets, nice eggshell carbonation that releases the crypt with billowing white foam. The cork is released as willingly as a Mexican parking ticket, with less corruption. The golden hues have a cloudy brassy tone to them that keep things in the saison cut. Black strap you know what that’s for.

At the outset, I am not sure what it is that I am celebrating with this bottle. RIDE THAT GHOST YOU PUSSY.

S: This has a strange waft at first, not the imperial apples and hay that I was expecting, no this beer has gone down a different road altogether. There is some citrus but it is mostly just funk to the max. I am talking incense dealer at Venice Beach levels of funk. There’s this musk that is kinda like the potted plants aisle at Home Depot and a rich acidity on the backend similar to zested lemons.

T: This is incredibly dry from the outset with a pithy citrus aspect to the finish. The bready notes work to mask the abv amiably. This starts going into a strange new realm of non-saison that I am not confident that I agree with. I wanted more of the citrus aspects, but instead I was treated to a fennel extravaganza, pushing fox tails into my gullet. Unless I am getting bullied by some poor Bolivian kid at a Fresno elementary school, I don’t need to eat weeds.

These saison ghosts are the best ghosts.

M: This is drier than your Statistic teacher’s sense of humor and lingers just as long. There’s this acrid assault on the gumline that borders on brackish and even Noel Coward thinks this is a bit salty. As this beer warms the abv starts waking up like a Snorolax and, if you’ve ever woken one of those up, you know shit goes off the rails real quick. There’s this charred wheat aspect that makes an entire 750ml tough to finish to myself, but maybe I was meant to share this. Maybe I shouldn’t be such a selfish asshole maybe?

D: This is too big to bee drinkable, too rare to be opened often, too ornate to take places without people clowning the shit out of you, and if you drank this while working on an IROC Camaro, people would seriously question your political affiliation. This was pretty solid and I love Dany Prignon, but just didn’t knock it out of the park for me. I have heard that Extra Sour is the second coming and resurrection of Ann’s ghost, so I would love to pursue this saison love to its logical conclusion. I will keep you P(gh)OSTED!

This mischievous ghost will hit you when you least expect it

Narrative: The first day of 9th grade was especially trying for Thomas Caraway. Tommy Hilfiger overalls were not only dated, but also a wildy unacceptable fashion decision in a world of waiting derision. “HEY FARMER TOMMY WHY DON’T YOU SU-” He learned to tune them out and calmly stride to Geometry with the cool poise of a 14 year old who just wasted $120.00 of his parents money. It wasn’t that he was a bad kid, he was sweet enough, it was just a question of leadership. He wasn’t a follower, but he set himself out as more of a chairman without a board. Thomas was a bold innovator in a market that abhorred change and friction. He pulled out his iphone and began to ironically play Puddle of Mudd around other kids in the cafeteria, much to their chagrin. When he was sweet, it was irascible, when he was bitter, it went too far. He was a strange kid but, you never could really dislike him for it. However, his bucket hat justifiably got struck in the genitals on not an isolated occasion.

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Midnight Sun Oak Aged TREAT, Take You to the Oak Aged Shop, Let you Lick the Pumpkin Pop

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For the uninformed, this might look like a rather pedestrian gem for this site, that is until you see those magic words on that bottle OAK AGED. That’s right, we skipped right over the old traditional version and went directly for the .rar jugular. I have heard that they release 400 bottles of this each year, but maybe a Midnight Sun rep can clear that up for me. Either way, this is one of those 400+ wants < 15 gots sort of beers that brings all the boys to the yard. Let's get our pumpkins smashed in today's review:

Midnight Sun Brewing Co.
Alaska, United States
American Porter | 7.80% ABV

A: This has a slick blackness to it that doesn’t come across as a hefty boy, it is nimble and imparts some light sheeting on the walls but the mocha skeeting is kept to a refined minimum. The carbonation runs freely and serves up tiny effervescence like a hungover barista.

Out of the pumpkin mire, the oak aged chocolate monster cometh.

S: This has a much more robust nose than the regular version and deals out pumpkin, nutmeg, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, smashed M&Ms, light lactose aspects, and some pepper. There is a strange bit of clove and sweetness from a Djarum Black, the whole affair is classy but sticky at the same time, like 5th grade Halloween sleepovers in an opulent den of rich mahogany.

T: This carries the chocolate and pumpkin to the maximum, 7th gear engaged to the fullest. The spices are present throughout but are not overpowering, they are more like a tasty garnish to the main event. The chocolate and pumpkin don’t have that horrible synthetic feel that some other holiday offerings posit, I am looking at you Shipyard brewing and all of your Smashed Imperial offerings. It’s the kind of chocolatey boss that doesn’t give you your tens, but lets you leave early. Pretty solid.

Try this pumpkin beer that said. Only 7% abv they said.

M: This has a nice slick porter wateriness to it that imparts the flavor and gets out of there as though a new episode of Breaking Bad is on or something. You could put this back all day long, or you could open it with some people that will never have the chance to try it, either way beer curmudgeon. Spread the love around.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and hides the abv well. The pumpkin and complexity of the chocolate aspects balance each other out and everyone is left with beige ass teeth smiling happily. The oak is not too pronounced but it is still empowers the other elements to do their thang, impart some vanilla and spice notes and then the bottle is gone.

This beer hits your flavor zones hard and leaves you stable, like a pumpkin BAWS.

Narrative: Bill Nye, the guy of science looked through the fusion reactor blast shield and scrawled some obtuse findings into a yellow notebook. The particle accelerator had successfully extracted carbon chains from both chocolate strains and disassembled complex amino acid chains from a gourd. Now the faint hue of the orange light spun rapidly as the proto-pumpkin quarks attempted to integrate themselves into the chocomatrix. “Those years of admonishing the reasoning faculties of children have postured me, BILL NYE, to usurp the throne of the king of Halloween.” The flow charts on the wall demonstrated the complex plan to become the figurehead of pagan rituals and how to rekindle the love of his followers through the use of science. “OH MY GO-” a flash of Ferrero Rocher gold erupted and Bill stared into the wispy whirring chocolate cloud. “MR. NYE! YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE, IT IS NOT FINISHED!” The Science Guy would see the instability of the product breaking down. He grabbed his oak clip board and entered the reactor and was imbued with chocolateyoakypumpkin free radicals, infusing him with the deep painful essence of Halloween. BUT WOULD HE USE THESE NEW FOUND HALLOPOWERS FOR GOOD OR EVIL?