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Sam Adams Utopias, $220 bottle of beer, 27% alcohol by volume, where are my shoes?

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Ah, another classic top 100 gem I have got a few requests to review. Well I took this shit to the dangerzone and lived to tell about it. That’s commitment. I drink expensive shit for your amusement. ARE YOU NOT AMUSED?

Hey guize, remember when we dropped $220.00 on a bottle of beer that was 27% alcohol? Me either, what the fuck happened last night?

Sam Adams Utopias, 27% ABV, American Stong Ale

A: This looks like a copper T1000 hateful solution that is thick and viscous but coats the glass like a zerg hive. There’s an amazing brassiness to it, both color and traditional adjective aspects. No head, no lacing, which is apropos for the innuendos as well I suppose. If you dropped $220 on a bottle of beer there’s gonna be no- well you get it.

Watch out, expensive ass, strong beer that no one else will appreciate here.

S: Holy shit, this is like a deep hateful liqueur but I love it. It’s like reduced IHOP pancakes, maple, sweet brown sugar, smokiness, Honduran tears, I get a note of crushed will, but that is subjective. The entire bouquet has a deep heat to it that is pervasive but, its like a butterface, you put up with it for all the other things going on. OH SHIT A MISOGYNISTIC JOKE.

T: This brings the Heat like Miami. It has a deep caramel taste like Werther’s Original Meets Lava: A Romantic Comedy. There’s such a great toffee, then a dryness from the barrel like you are chewing a pencil dipped in bourbon, then it closes with a finale number of pure butterscotch. If this is beer, then I am on board. It’s like that Kurt Russel movie where that girl gets thrown overboard, fuck, what was that called?

I am not sure what it takes to get a beer up to 27% but I am pretty sure uranium barrels are involved.

M: It is sticky like the La Brea tar pits and just scorching. The age did not help and it just dries in a medicinal extreme way but I really like it. I would recommend it to a friend Amazon, since I know you are watching. It coats and just hits every zone and finishes fire hot like a peat whiskey but in a strangely delicious way.

D: Well I guess this all depends on if you are a wealthy 19th century industrialist. Can you afford to just stroll down to the store and drop 2 bills on a bottle of beer? If so, how do you keep your monocle from getting fogged up with all those middle class laymen taking up all your air. So no, this is not drinkable you monster. Why would you seriously need even more than 6oz of this? If you drink 6oz you just drank 4.5 bud lights, take it easy moneybags.

I am not sure what is going on here, but I am pretty sure it is bad ass. My dick doesn't have a face on it though.

Narrative: Sedwick Billingsley looked upon the court with disdain. The entire post-revolutionary society was a bore to him and traveling did little good for his Francophilic soul. Napoleon had conquered and been deposed, he sold arms to both sides and glutted himself on the business of wartime economies, and how here we sat, wealthy beyond belief but yet unapproached by anyone in the Court. His brash tone and palpable awareness of death made him an abrasive character. He constantly smelled of cognac and macaroons and declared hateful truths with ease. Mr. Billingsly was a complete asshole, but everyone sought to eventually seek his affection. He broke the fan of a fair mademoiselle simply due to the fact that he disliked the color lavender. Sure he was rich, unapproachable, and caustic, but deep down there was something that the general populace saw in him. That green light on Daisy’s dock, that anachronism in an unreliable omniscient narrator, those sweet butterscotch kisses. The nephew of Voltaire tipped his hat to Mr. Billingsley and he cast a franc at his chest so hard that it made him taste maple syrup, which was not even available then. Nabokov entered the court and then promptly exited in his time machine.

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Three Floyd’s Dreadnaught, Double IPA, Maybe She Wont, but then Again Maybe She Wiiiiilllllllll-

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She dreads me. She Dreadsmenaught. But then again maybe she wiiiillll....

Dreadnaught IPA, Three Floyds, 9.5% abv

A: It has a bright cloudy tangerine and orange haziness to it, lots of foam with huge carbonation. The lacing is thin but the whole presentation is great. It is a top 100 gem and I want to to be not as good as it is, but damnit, it’s another non-California DIPA that just owns.

Three Floyd's. I li....I liii-....ILIKEYOUALUT.

S: It reeks of huge grapefruit and tangelo notes, some mild orange rind dryness, and almost zero herbal aspects to it. I have given this to sceptical west coast friends and after their facial reconstructions from hop assault, they were into it. Albeit horribly scarred.

T: The taste almost directly mirrors the smell, which is surprisingly rare in IPAs this big and complex. It has that great juiciness of Sculpin, orange notes, a strange tartness similar to grapefruit or unripe tangerines. This is incredibly refreshing and the abv sneaks in like a Trojan horse. THAT’S NOT THE ONLY TROJAN THAT SNEAKS IN IN THE MIDWES- just kidding they don’t use birth control, you’ve seen their kids right? Ok cool.

You think its just gonna be a standard balanced IPA affair, then it rolls all hard on your bitchass.

M: The mouthfeel is a bit bigger than the standard DIPA but it doesn’t toe into that disappointing maharaja range with excessive coating and chewing. This beer has an exceptional balance, but then beats your ass with hop cones. A strange note that needs commenting upon is how good the bubbles feel. They somehow hit an exceptional attenuation/carbonation level. Three Floyds consistently delivers exceptional products and this one delivers. Not trying to sound all tough, FINE I LIKE THE BUBBLES OK.

D: This is clearly exceptionally drinkable but the lack of availability, price point, and high-ish abv seems to draw away from the universal applicability of this beer. It is a world class but it as far as the epic DIPA class goes it is certainly not best in show. Overall, a great beer and the Midwest has a viable answer to the west coast giants.

Another DIPA that doesn't make distribution to California, what a tease.

Narratives: Shire Grassmuggins was not an exceptional piece of feudalism. It got exceptional amounts of rain and had incredible turnip yields, given the time and labor constrictions. Serfdom never exactly produced the most diligent workers, but, as far as 13th century economies went, Grassmuggins was a solid performer in a bull market. The workers were diligent and took religious holidays often, but the field was almost conscious of its need for crop rotation. The crude tools yielded amazing produce but the soil called out for minor improvements. The wind through the reeds seemed to scream to the peasants for basic nitrates through fertilization. Alas, this shire must let its latent glory remain unknown to other regio

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McKenzie Saison Vautour Du Bois, Expose said it best, Saisons Change.

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This is what I imagine kisses from Blanche Du Bois would taste like, dirty but fulfilling.

McKenzie Saison Vautour Du Bois, 7% abv Saison

One of 372 bottles. Oh shit you can just taste the rare.

A: This beer has a golden straw radiance to it with a little bit of murkiness. Like that chick’s hair after 3rd period PE, you know she didn’t wash it, I mean we were just playing Le Crosse, I digress. Nice carbonation and lacing, there’s a powerful saison core at its heart powering this beast.

This beer makes me have so much feelings. Why you feelings.

S: There’s a huge waft of tart champagne grapes, white wine, wet backpack, and sweaters from the dryer. It also kinda reminds me of a Crayon box, but in a good way. Altogether a very murky affair that you aren’t proud of but secretly enjoy, like Matt Damon movies.

T: The taste has a light tartness at the outset that resonates throughout while the funk and wheat just drills a sick solo. I want to just keep drilling this beer but then I have to go to the bathroom, so a vicious cycle ensues. This is an excellent beer to get a UTI from. I lvoe the hoppy dryness at the finish that reminds me of chardonnay so hard. I can’t believe that this has 7% abv because I am David Copperfielding this shit and making it disap- oh you got it? Ok, fine moving on.

Unlike this ridiculous shit, this beer was an amazing decision that I stand by, at least for the next few hours. That's more than this woman(?) can say.

M: This has a nice expansive quality that just takes over like a possessive ex-girlfriend, appropriating your palate for its own uses. The dryness isn’t overwhelming and this feels like a classier less abrasive Temptation, and it is better as a result. It gets better as it warms, showing its depth and complexity with an inkling toward the lemon and orange kisses that you get from people with a Lip Smackers inclination. Why are you kissing children anyway?

D: This review was written in the freezing 59 degree Los Angeles winters, so you can see how I am enjoying it under sub optimal conditions, but it is still super legit. The bottle doesnt disappear because the dryness and carbonation serve as stumbling blocks but I can still selfishly merk this entire bottle and not a single fuck is given. Sometimes I trade for shit and dont even know that I want it until it arrives and, thank goodness for shortsighted trades because this paid out so. hard. Classy ass wine spritzer up in the cut like what.

Some saisons, I am like, are you kidding me? This one is a legit rendering.

Narrative: Sergio walked into the high school prom reeking of Cooks. He exhibited that classic proto-wasted swagger, rocking lithely on his heels and using his elbows demonstratively. “Oh, Sergio, are you feeling alri-” Ms. Wilkinson could barely finish her sentence before he snapped back “OK Yesh, hello, tonight, I would like to let you know who is alright, in this world, this world.” He looked out towards the hackneyed light show and ruminated about the meaning of Tony Rich Project “Nobody Knows” Ms. Wilkinson had had about enough of his Puerto Rican antics “life is like a jiggsaw puzzle and your date sometimes hey, your date, psh, then puzzles all torn apart.” His sly posture was not offputting but it was clear that he had fallen victim to the sweet white grape. He was placed in an idling campus security squad car, the school paper quoted him as saying: “a million years from now…I’ll be loving prom steillll-“

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Surly Coffee Bender, Finally A Responsible Morning Beverage for Unemployed People and Fashion Students

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A responsible morning beverage for unemployed people.

Surly Coffee Bender, 5.1% abv

A: This beer has a menacingly deep dark countenance with a huge banana republic khaki head, a bit refined for its Midwest heritage which would be acceptable if it didn’t smell like alpha acids an- on to the next section.

Beer in the morning, no time to explain.

S: I couldn’t hold this over, the coffee is overwhelming. The Midwest loves to make beers that just infiltrate the nose, take over your house, wake your girlfriend up: OLFACTORY. That is their game and it is played well. I supposed there is some mild Hershey’s cocoa and bittering elements but overridingly, it is coffee, like elephants, all the way down. All of this is predicated on coffee as its existence.

T: Wait for the spoiler alert: coffee. Seriously. Just coffee for days. Were it not socially reprehensible to just straight up drink brown ale for breakfast, this could replace mocha frappa adjective misusacinnos. Maybe in the Midwest that’s just how they roll, wake up, drink some surly, work, more surly, check redfin.com, attempt to solve property value disparity, call it a day. But just wow, not just coffee, amazing coffee. I don’t want to say barefoot intelligensia level, its not that acidic but it has a definite Coffee Bean feel to it. For my east coast readers, Coffee Bean is the exceptional coffee that we drink while you keep Dunkin Corp. stocks abreast. It tastes like coffee.

This beer is dark and strangely offensive.

M: It is incredibly thin. . .not unlike. . .coffee. If you think I am trying to drive home some form of Nabokovian motif, let’s just put it out there, it is coffee, not sex with minors. Seriously it tastes like an iced coffee. I got this as an extra and I demand to know the price of this temptress. If it is under $3 per can, I have pity on the poor Midwest that unleashed this wraith upon their productivity. Even the siren of Farmville nods at this Amarosa knowingly.

D: If you haven’t gathered from the foregoing: very. I have essentially provided a voucher for drinking this unabashedly for breakfast. I don’t care if you are a crane operator on the new children’s hospital which happens to be occupied early, go ahead, have some coffee bender in the morning, you earned it big guy (or woman, whatever, find me a woman who operates a crane [sic.])

This beer is hard as fuck. But gentle.

Narrative: “I just don’t understand why the early Seinfeld episodes look\ so dated, look at what they are wearing-” Uncle Adam droned on. “Keep it together Jonah, keep it together” he told himself as he clicked the rhythms from Vengaboys songs along his jaw line. He didn’t exactly mean to supplement all of his caffeine habits with coffee alcohol but, such is the way of things. “Jonah are you cold? You’re positively shaking!” Aunt Beatrice exclaimed grabbing an afghan rug. “Yeahbut you know who really- I mean always touching the thermostat? Who says that? Seinfeld, you know what I meanyeahyeah, notevencoldthough seriously.” He attempted to break his repartee into at least dactylic hexameter for his relatives to try and understand. Jonah was a man converted to the alcoholic coffee beast, and now he was dropped as though he should have invented the rain coat.

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Pechish Woods, Cisco Brewing, This brewery wants to see that thong da sour dong ta thong thong. Sours like a truck. truck truck.

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This beer is amazing and strange at the same time, like those kids with autism that hit up college all early and you’re pretty sure they are getting dome but then you are not sure that- it’s a pretty solid sour. It has nothing to do with geniuses or oral sex.

Cisco wore a glittery belt buckle, another Cisco got all my dotcom friends so many awkward hj's in rental cars, this Cisco melts your face off with scorching sours.

Pechish woods, Cisco Brewers, American Wild Ale 4.9% abv

A: This is incredibly thin and watery in character. If not for the haze it would give off a mild orange translucence to it, like watered down faderaid on a struggling Sunday morning. There is no lacing, nor much carbonation to write home to mom and dad about. Summer camp at Pechish Woods is tranquil and inviting.

Smart people enjoy sours, stupid ass people enjoy cats. This has been proven time and time again. Next time you meet someone who doesn't like sours, ask what he/she majored in, you know which one I am talking about..

S: This has an unmistakable pie crust and peach smell to it. There is also a faint note of wet hay and autumn in general exuded from this beer. Chicks are not into this. Don’t open this at a club. You can’t leave with less than zero bitches but, you cant owe people girls is what I am trying to say. Leave this wild ale at home.

T: The nose is very similar to the taste and it has sharp notes of peaches and a nice cracker crust finish to it that doesn’t really expand or linger for very long. There aren’t many sours/wilds that go full on unshaven peach like this one and, the candor is welcome. It is a bit one note but you don’t get sick of it.

You are expecting something all hard and bad ass but then it doesn't get you wasted at all. But it's still pretty chill so you just hang out and swap Catholic Camp stories and shit gets autobiographical real quick.

M: This is super crisp and light. The tartness only underscores how fast this imparts the flavor and disappears quickly. This is actually a bit of an impressive hat trick with the peaches, cinnamon, crust, and excessive drink ability. I would highly recommend this beer to anyone who wants to wow someone with the limits of what beer can attain. This is limited in scope but incredible in depth, it just nails peach cobbler is its cobbler ass. The result is not COBBLED TOGETHER.

Chicks wont like this beer, but then again, maybe she will. If the rap community can convince girls to sip Moscato then anything is possible.

D: This is all redundant, but this is a very drinkable beer and a very pleasant beer to drink at that. It would be a perfect dessert beer to serve to guests and the pairing choices are SUPER OBVI. If this wasn’t so annoying to obtain, I would have this on full rotation. Peaches by the pound. dumps like a truck.

This is the type of person who enjoys a beer like this, despite what I like to think about it. And myself.

Narrative: The orchard hummed with a dynamic life to it in the summertime. Something about the sun’s rays cascading through the branches and the wind picking up the sweet blossom of the peach trees made it seem like one didn’t have a care in the world. “OH I AM SORRY, everyone, Pierre thinks these PEACHES ARE GOING TO HARVEST THEMSELVES, let’s all take a break and wait for him, because NOW YOUR SHIFT IS GOING TO BE 20 MINUTES LONGER BEFORE ARTS AND CRAFTS” the loudspeaker boomed as the camp counselor gestured furiously towards Pierre. His hands were cut from the constant harvesting and the acerbic juices from delicious peaches filling the sack around his neck. “Please, my…mom didn’t sign me up for this…this is supposed to be summer camp…” Pierre pleaded and wiped some peach pulp from his youth designer jeans. “LET ME, tell you something Pierre Pierre the Peachcrastinator, you need to stop jabbering on about how life at Pechish Woods is the PITS and start thinking about how SWEET arts and crafts will be!” If the camp counselor’s tone didn’t cut to the bone, the caustic puns would scour his skin first. Arts and Crafts at Pechish Woods consisted mostly of preserves preparation, jams, pie construction, and tart manufacturing. “Fineeeeee….” Pierre was indeed being a peachcrastinator but, you couldn’t argue with the perks. He took a bite of a fresh peach and continued “Free Time” at the sticky sweet Pechish Woods Summer Camp.

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Iron Fist Velvet Glove, I knew a guy with a tongue in a velvet sack, it was a Crown Royal bag. Headline unrelated.

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Some people overlook this beer because it’s a strange style (imperial oatmeal stout?) or maybe they are the 99% who can’t afford $11.99 for chocolate coachella in their domepiece. I dont know. That shit cray.

Take an amazing Imperial Oatmeal Stout, now serve it on nitro fresh from the tanks. Serves 1 jelly. You. you jelly.

Iron First Brewing – Velvet Glove 9% stout

A: Murky black with some dark brown notes on the pour, nice 1 inch head with a murky brown foam and tiny bubbles, very little lacing, great coating on the glass. It’s like a Sir Mix a Lot video sponsored by Exxon Valdez.

I wish I could compel people to stop and try this. The stopping power of this beer is not insubstantial. The head brewer is also a super nice guy, if that rattles your customer service cage.

S: Tons of coffee on the nose, I was expecting more chocolate but the coffee dryness is welcome. Actually, it makes sense once you taste it, the rope circle is sprung, you think you’re in for a pedestrian outing and then oh shit it’s a 3 a.m. sort of night. Where are my shoes-

T: The coffee subsides from the nose and the chocolate shines through in a huge way, much like chocolate rain without the heat and big body. Great sweet taste with chewy maltiness and sweet finish that’s supported by a mild hoppy profile. It’s tough to overstate or make jokes about something with such great balance and amazing drinkability. I bet if this was in 12oz servings…it would cost more, fuck that, I must quote my friend D. Garcia “it’s call you man up and you take that bottle to the danger zone.” Take that shit to the danger zone.

"Take your exploding knees to the Danger Zone" - D. Garcia

M: The tiny bubbles deliver an piquant effervescence that carries the chocolate malt delicately. The coating is awesome, not in a thick oppressive way, It carries a huge beer character with the accessibility of a thin middle body to it. I am not sure how they did it but it straddles two worlds without feeling one note.

D: Usually with imperial stouts this is where I make obvious statements about how big the beer is and after one it’s an unwelcome Saturday morning houseguest, but, I simply cannot in this instance. The drink ability is fantastic due to the chocolate profile, tiny bubbles, and fantastic mouthfeel. This ascends to the “wish it was packed in 12oz bottles” category. This would be a great introductory imperial stout to transcend people beyond their Guiness fancies into the world of obfuscating darkness.

At first you feel like you are getting ripped off, then you realize HOW MUCH YOU ARE GETTING.

Narrative: Being an accountant for brigand gypsies didn’t seem like an altogether waste of Jeff Deyoung’s time, it just felt a little misplaced. Well first there was the problem with appraising the value of stolen VCR’s and then amortizing them over a S corp structure. Then he had to figure out a way to write off all Robitussin and knife hits that his company of rogues was imbibing at a breakneck pace. All in all, Jeff was a black hearted scoundrel with the rest, but with a cunning ability to ease his way below the subterfuge. Sure, he might be figuring out ways to liquidate bootleg DVDs, but his coal black hair and khaki suit gave you the air that inspire confidence in his less than scrupulous dealings. If you invited him over for dinner, he would tell your family that he arranged government contracts and owned several mobile unilateral pawn shops. A tongue in a velvet sack, that old Jeff. You can’t quite trust him, but at the same time you feel at ease, until your iPad is gone. Now you need to buy a new iPad.

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Big Sky Brewing Company, Ivan the Terrible, Large Scale Colonization of Siberia and this Domepiece

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I had wanted to track this beer down ever since I first started trading but I always got led off the path of Terribleness. Anyway, after I tried Old Bluehair I decided that people in Montana knew what the fuck that they were doing and sought out this gem. Cool story Hansel.

Ivan the Nuanced Coffeemonster is more apt, but less likely to unify modern Russia.

Big Sky Brewing Company, Ivan the Terrible, Russian Imperial Stout (duh) 10% abv

A: This beer has a nice slick cola look to it, a bit off the beaten path, like RC Cola. Nice carbonation, I mean, look above, more head than a goiter survivors support group.

This beer is strange, but ultimately very likeable. You root for it deep down, you want the chocolate to prevail.

S: The smell has all the old tricks you’d expect, cocoa, nice very understated booziness, and a dry roast coffee that has some dryness. Brownie batter, nom’s abound.

T: The taste expounds on the coffee and chocolate interplay and it’s like what an alcoholic baker would indulge himself with, all sticky with sweetness balanced by the pound of flesh of coffee presented. There’s a candy toffee note that carries this to more memorable levels. PROTIP: I drank a glass that was left out all night and IT WAS EVEN BETTER. Something about this beer being oxidized makes it even better. I dont know why, but if you are that decadent that you can waste expensive rare beers on science experiments, do that shit and stop bragging about it.

At first this beer seems like a bad decision, but it gets way better. Unlike this shitty tattoo.

M: This is where this beer is lacking. It almost feels like an imperial porter in the way the light permeates it easily and the coating is like the unsatisfactory job of some lazy ass Home Depot parking lot warriors. I dont want to suggest the malt bill should be boosted because then it would be a sticky mess, ho hum. First World Beer problems. Tsingtao drinkers dont know the shit that I go through. FEEL ME.

D: This is a mid-ranger in the drinkability section because the ABV will getcha, and the thin profile makes you want more so it balances out. You get your kid a car, but then dont pay for the first year of Community College. The world is right again. I don’t want more than a bottle of this, if that is considered restraint then Epicurus your ass on out of here, Stoics.

The epic debate. Do I want more darkness for a more substantial mouthfeel. Holy mixed metaphors, this discussion is going off the rai-

Narrative: Ivan looked down from his newspaper and shook his head in frustration, “THEY WONT USE THE GOD DAMN PORT I BUILT THEM AT NARVA!” His chancellor shook silently at the rage that he knew was forthcoming. Baltic goods kept pouring in, Toffee, Chocolate, Coffee: The Russians were gourmands despite being within perpetual starvation during the 16th century. “What must I do? Fine, if they wish to continue to oppose my chocolate blockades, I am just going to have to raze Kazan to the ground. THEIR IMPETUOUS NATURE MUST BE QUELLED.” Deep down Ivan was conflicted, he had a severe sweet tooth that he attempted to suppress, and a deep alcoholic nature that remained in constant remission. How ironic that he would die a peaceful death, the chocolate master of war passing away while dreaming of sweet toffee, passing his pawn with grave severity.

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Kern River Class V Stout, Pass Legislation to Make this an Official Blanket Alibi for 4 a.m. Dietary Decisions

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This stout is the beginning of shitshow, the preamble to a plastered filibuster, and prologue to a book written about 4am food you dont remember. The smoothest, most dangerous 8.5% abv you have ever encountered.

This is a stout ninja, swift as a river current. It will destroy you not unlike that movie Deliverance.

Class V Stout, Kern River Brew Co, 8.5% Imperial Stout

A: This is a beautiful stout. The pour looks almost identical to Coca-cola if it were served on nitro. It was fantastic tiny bubbles that conjoin into a huge thick impermeable head that just sets up blocks upon blocks of spider web strip malls of lacing, it is the Encino of municipal lacing. The color is deep and shiny cola, bit by bit light shines through to evidence a warm moderately thin mahogany body.

This beer is dangerous and makes me feel like I am a child again. You tell Kern River, Class V is not for kids.

S: There’s some coffee, a bit of turbinado sweetness, and the cola caramel that I noted earlier. The chocolate notes are faint and intertwined with a mild hop profile at the finish. It will sock you.

T: This is an incredibly light imperial stout and the flavor profile matches it accordingly. It begins with a mocha sweetness, imparts a watery tone in the middle and the swift closer is the coffee and mild hop finish. It is a three chamber legislation and flavor bills are passed immediately to the stomach congress for approval.

It feels like a throwback, but not in an ironic way, like a comforting pop punk blanket that lulls you to sleep gently.

M: This is a thin imperial stout, but it wouldn’t exactly be fair to call this a watery stout. The middle body is lacking in coating, and the mouthfeel has very low chewiness, but perhaps the calling to the Class V rapids, the swift swashy tides of the Kern River are supposed to be imagined? I can’t say but for a nimble swift stout, it works incredibly well. It presents its alcohol in such a precise masked way that the thin body only makes the ABV Trojan horse all the more deceiving.

D: This is one of the most drinkable stouts I have ever had. This is particularly in part with the rapidity that it lays the flavors out, packs them up and postures you for the next drink. It is a very swift transition of chocolatey warped tour sets. For those who appreciate the drawn out arena rock, this may be a bit too light of fare for your tastes. It takes the elements from Founders Breakfast stout and reduces the silkiness of the oat bill and trades it in for watery spurs to make it FASTER to drink, but not necessarily BETTER, if that makes sense.

It's a little disturbing how wasted this beer gets you with such a gentle finesse. I dont question it. However, the $5.49 price tag just makes this ridiculous.

Narrative: This was the worst work retreat that Jim Dimiri had ever been on. Initially it seemed par for the course, nice relaxing weekend with some spurious workshops to pad the tax writeoffs, but then, the real activity was announced. “Yes sirree, we see some serious flows with all the Cascadian runoff this time of year, particularly with the coffee and cocoa farmers strip farming the upper elevation, well, it’s a gusher.” His life vest was caked with thick viscous foamy water. The grains from the upper elevation coffee farms whizzed by and was dashed on the rocks. “RIVER RAFTING IS NOT A TEAM BUILDING EXERCISE! DAMNIT!” Jim cried to Terri, the file clerk who was gripping the starboard side of the raft, coughing up chocolatey river water. “OH SHI-” the raft capsized on some deep woody debris and he was sent headlong into the khaki colored water, refreshing but dangerous. In a moment, it was all over. Jim crawled to the bank of the river and looked back on the foaming rapids that he had just confronted. Human Resources would receive a strongly worded letter on Monday.

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Founder’s Canadian Breakfast Stout, Finally a breakfast for the completely irresponsible. Hey, no one told you to have kids.

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Another top 100 gem rolls in for your virtual tasting enjoyment. This beer came out a while back and everyone lost their shit and wanted the moon and the stars for it. 10,000 bottles later my hipstbeer sense remains intact, I had this when it was an unlabeled hand bottle. CBS was cooler when it was underground.

Like the other CBS, except less shitty crime dramas and this is actually enjoyable.

Founders Canadian Breakfast Stout, 9.3%

A: nice brown mahogany tones, not exceptionally thick but a welcoming nice tiny bubbles. It just looks like a chill homie, the dude you talk to in the bathroom line, that sweet girl who tells you who does her hair. Sweet and deep in scope. LIKE COPERNICUS BEST SYSTEM. C…B…

This beer was expensive and hard to find for a while. Allow me to locate a fuck to give.

S: amazing maple sweetness, nice sticky chocolate, amazing waft, it’s like boning a maple syrup clown in an ihop, except the clown is a ford model and its not sex, it is just SMELLING.

T: toffee, coffee, sticky vanilla notes, it has a great maple syrup sweetness to it that gives a great caramel and brown sugar resonance. The exhaling waft has a nice dry hint of espresso. Give old molasses granny a smooch, get all up in it, she just had chocolate donuts, mmm maple bars, its sweet and dirty but so ri- wait what were we talking about? Oh yeah, beers and shit.

How long do you think I can post this before I get a takedown notice? I will keep you POSTED.

M: This hits just the right mark with me. They took the Founders Breakfast Stout, the oats and the silkiness, and boosted the ABV just a bit and balanced it out even further with amazing sweet notes that were absent in the breakfast stout. All around, just incredibly drinkable and balanced.

D: This is the most drinkable stout that I have ever had. The cruel irony is that it is the least accessible stout that I have ever had, therefore, making it not drinkable. It has this awesome slick coating to the middle that isn’t too heavy and doesn’t weigh the palate down. It doesn’t make you ruminate over the last sip and instead ops for a cleaner oilier finish that beckons for the next taste. This is an incredible stout and worthy of the hype.

For a while this beer was the #1 stout in my eyes. Things change.

Narrative: Noble Clifford Oatshire looked out over his majestic estate of rolling maple trees and moose farms. “It seems so simple doesn’t it Jarvis?” “Sir?” “The maple syrup business, being born into an unshakeable empire of saccharine sweet breakfast commodities.” He ruminated while pressing his hand idly against the antique French-Canadian glass. “I- I don’t follow sir.” “Jarvis what I am asking is simple, all of this, the basset hounds, the rich gourmand palate that I have acquired, the first edition tomes bound in supple calf skin, to what do I owe this?” “Well, I suppose your father master Cliff?” Clifford exhaled and looked around at the imposing bookcases and portraits of his ancestors, each painted upon a 12 foot canvas. “Jarvis, who supports YM Magazine?” “Well, children, eh, that is to say, insecure girls, pre-women I suppose?” “And should they somehow slip away, who would buy YM Magazine then?” “Eh well, pedophiles and sexual deviants I suppose” Clifford took a sip of his bold cup of coffee and stirred his oatmeal demonstratively. “AND WHAT OF MAPLE SYRUP JARVIS? Will people need our condiment graces forever?” He was a powerful slick orator, with passion and a sweet disposition. “I only hope that we have done as much for the breakfast world as it has done for us.” He watched a mountie clip clop away into the distance across the vast Canadian tundra.

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Barrel Aged Token Porter, Infected, but still an amazing zombie life.

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The beer nerd rumor mill grinds away on poor Alpine and their barrel aged offerings. I liked this beer but some people said it was a bit infected. I SAY THEY CAN DIACETYL THIS DI-

Infected Shminchmecked. This beer is still a solid delicious drinker.

Alpine Bourbon Barrel Aged Token, Porter, 9.5% Abv

A: The appearance is a bit watery with a deep mahogany that provides a little bit of sheen like a Head and Shoulder commercial. The bubbles are frothy and tiny. They provide little in the way of lacing but the middle carbonation bubbles throughout. Not even mad tho, haters gonna hate.

IMPLYING that a little infection is always a bad thing.

S: There’s some vanilla, coffee, burnt chocolate, and some oakiness to it. There isn’t a big bourbon waft to it. The nose isn’t too overwhelming but not distracting either. Its like Judy Winslow, she’s chill but an enjoyable support character.

T: There is a nice vanilla warmth to it on the initial taste the fades into a dark chocolate slickness. The hops are muted on the back end with a chalky oakiness that is incredibly refreshing. The lingering sweetness stays on the gumline and is delicious.

99% of other beers are not infected, but many of them are worthless and annoying.

M: The mouthfeel has absolutely no alcohol waft to it, but it also lacks a serious barrel presence. It is crisp and washes away incredibly quickly with a bit of coffee and vanilla lingering. This seems like a sneaky ninja porter that secretly imparts the flavor and leaves the user confused as to where all the ninja stars in his palate came from.

D: This is the most drinkable porter that I have ever tasted. The thin body and intense flavor make it wash away clean without a serious malty interference. It has a watery middle body that, at first blush, was a bit disappointing, but ultimately became a huge merit in the drink ability section. The old Peter Porter robbing to pay Paul Porter. Ultimately, this is a great porter and one of my favorites, but it isn’t the greatest porter of all time.

you know there's something inherently wrong with it, but, you just cant stop.

Narrative: People told him that he was infected, but he didn’t believe them. He pressed on with his research. The mild coughing and sores spread gently and steadily but Jarvis Diacete would not be stopped. With careful atomic reduction, he could make the most powerful bourbon ever created. A writing deep brown sludge screeched in a beaker entreatingly gripping the glass. “Oh soon Barrelor, you shall embrace the sweet ague of the South.” The press condemned his amplification of barrel technology and noted that he would destroy humanity. Ah, infected Jarvis was, but on his way to a sour greatness indeed.