Florida is in such a magical and endearing place in the beer game at present. It holds a checkered past replete with some of the most coveted releases, the lowest bottle counts, and just short of Chicago, some of the absolute worst beer traders in the game. Despite the foregoing, this leaky waterhag filled peninsula has unquestionably pumped the everglades with some of the finest breweries in the game right now.

Since we are painting with sweeping generalizations about a huge swath of land occupied by an equally diverse populace, coveted Florida releases usually go like this:

1) take an existing style
2) add a bunch of obscure fruit, coffee, chilis, or white oak to it
3 release like 120 bottles to the public well knowing that over 1000 sweaty nascar bros will show up.
4) wait nine months and release the barrel aged version to cause a shitstorm of even more pandemonium and butthurt

That’s pretty much how things fly down there, five times a year since always until forever.

So today let’s take a look at an upstart brewery that is concurrently working within the climate of Floridian demands, but also ekeing out their own character: Aardwolf Brewing.



Whiskey Barrel Aged Early Bird Special

Stout aged on vanilla bean, cinnamon, coffee, aged in whiskey barrels

If this particular breakdown looks familiar to you, it’s because every fucking brewery founded after 2012 is brewing this same shit. It’s like dudes saw Founders drop CBS in 2011 and then talked their rich stepdads into buying them a 7 barrel brew house just to make this adjunct banger. Hold onto your hats: a stout brewed with coffee, vanilla, cinnamon, the works.

when FSTOPs go wrong: this fall on Outdoor Life Network

when FSTOPs go wrong: this fall on Outdoor Life Network

The first thing I would like to note is that this is markedly thinner than the traditional foray into this now predictable style. It feels more nimble and svelte coating the glass more like an imperial Porter in a way, leaving nice earthy foam on the glass. The nose dominates with coffee to a staggering degree and closes with a long toasty roast. There is a touch of residual sweetness but the ultra thin body and relatively low Abv don’t give this artist much canvas to paint upon. Sometimes an intentionally restrictive medium lends itself to focusing the performance; that is kinda the case here. The taste is focused and it delivers in the manner it promises without overstaying its welcome or feeling poorly crafted. It is tasty albeit not altering the consciousness of the style. If there is a “crushable” entry in this increasingly crowded realm, this would be it and it is unquestionably well brewed, but perhaps not spec’d to shatter any molds or conceptions.

drive up that content with multiple angles of the same bottle GOT IT

drive up that content with multiple angles of the same bottle GOT IT

I would much rather prefer something be delicious and come in understated rather than the typical under-attenuated execution we see far too often. This is nice but it won’t displace the greats within its ranks.

As a side note, there is a long lingering spice and cinnamon aspect that was borderline cloying.  In what may amount to an incredible amount of irony, DDB is being a bitch about the cinnamon.  There is simply TOO MUCH cinnamon on the finish that artificially dries out the mouthfeel and gives it a lingering spice profile that displaces the delicious coffee like a cup of Abuelita.  FINE.  I GUESS I AM JUST A CINNABITCH AFTER ALL.

They even included a nod to DDB on the label.

They even included a nod to DDB on the label.

Zagreus, Red wine barrel aged Tripel

Last week fuqqqed around and got a tripel dubbel

Last week fuqqqed around and got a tripel dubbel

Ah a barrel aged tripel, the diciest of consumer gambles in beer. This style can fall close to the pin of Curieux if it wants to play it conservatively; or it can aspire to hit the pinnacle of the genre like Sante Adairius’s Always in Life. More often than not, breweries turn out over oaked, over estery adjunct messes like Bruery BA five golden rings or something that becomes too big for its tripel britches.

The hue on this beer is a touch dark and i bunkered down for some mettalic or sweet crystal malt, neither showed up.

The hue on this beer is a touch dark and i bunkered down for some mettalic or sweet crystal malt, neither showed up.

This offering hugs the curieux design so conservatively that you might have a hard time telling the two apart, aside from moderate differences. Now is benchmarking and coming close to nailing the industry standard worthy of derision? Not really, Hyundai bites luxury brand styling all day and makes cars for single parents year in and year out. This beer is dry and doesn’t exhibit the flabby honey and banana issues most Ba tripels fall into: thank god.  In fact it is more oaky than honey, and the red wine barrel gives it this tannic dryness that almost reminds me of Darjeeling or a floral type of chamomile tea.

she's not a shower, she's a grower.

she’s not a shower, she’s a grower.

You certainly should drink this around 50 degrees because it becomes a bit hefty at higher temps and a syrupy mouthfeel develops.  If you see this, you should certainly pick it up, but if this shares the same price point as Curieux it is hard to make a compelling argument for one over the other as they are so similar in scope and execution.  Pretty tasty stuff, nothing you need to slip your Fedex delivery man’s L5-S1 over tho.

Brandy Barrel Aged Mariachi
Stout Made with Cocoa nibs, vanilla beans, and chilis

Wait, this beer, from Florida...I am getting some feelings of Deja Vu

Wait, this beer, from Florida…I am getting some feelings of Deja Vu

Man if you want a textbook definition of the most predictable stout release from Florida, here it is.  This infected Westbrook upwards, and then spread like some Umbrella corp virus to all of the brite tanks around the nation.

If you read DDB, you have already had a billion beers just like this, so let’s parse this down to how it is DIFFERENT from the various iterations of this style.  It isn’t as hefty as Huna, the barrel profile comes across as understated but presents a light caramel sweetness as though it wasn’t racked for a significant period of time or didn’t hit optimum saturation (i.e. basically anything released by a North Carolina brewery.) The peppers aren’t overpowering and if anything this is a bit hamfisted in the cocoa aspects.  I had this side by side with regular ass Mexican Cake and, despite having barrel aging, the two are about comparable in quality.

This could use less sweetness and brownie batter from the cocoa nibs and allow the various other aspects to shine.  This is the best of the three and it is worth seeking out because it presents a novel riff on an increasingly crowded genre.  While it fails to reach the heights established by BA Abaraxas, Brandy Huna, or Double Barrel Mexican Cake, it stands its own and parries blows with admirable speed and dexterity.

In sum, I like where this brewery is headed in terms of marketing, branding, ambition and DDB nods. In jumping headfirst into the foray of the most contested styles they are bold and didn’t fail in any one of their attempts.  It will be a pleasure to see how things progress with these guys in the near future.


The Ultimate Farmhouse Voltron @Hillfarmstead Civil Disobedience 11, The Saison Megazord

Alright, keeping things on track with arguably the whaliest beer that HF has ever made outside of Ann, is this staggering amalgamate of the best the saison world has to offer.  At ~300 bottles, 1 per person, this caused a massive rift in the trading community and the butthurt was palpable, salty alligator tears rolling down Dorito dusted beards. So what is the deal with this FINAL BOSS GOD TIER FARMHOUSE LOOT? This is like post-game optional quest level shit here:

“Composed of Anna aged in barrels that previously held Mimosa, E., and Juicy, blended with Anna that was aged in barrels that previously held Civil Disobedience 3 and 5. Delicate, elegant, complex, and effervescent.”

Does it seriously get any better than that? Those are like nocturnal emissions mixed with microflora. Let’s get down to this rustic ratchet in today’s review.

Got musky emo tears, beer looking like a bowl of oranges

Got musky emo tears, beer looking like a bowl of oranges

Hill Farmstead, Vermont (you know this already)

Blended BA saison, abv? Let’s call it 7.69%

This beer also gushed like an obese kid who lost a full dress size at fat camp. It spilled all over my tiny hovel making my shoddy granite work redolent of Vermontean esters.  The carb notwithstanding, this pours intensely orange and the whole pour feels like a PS1 cut scene where for a moment things are far less shitty, and you know it simply wont last.  It has fantastic cling and sheets rings the entire way down as though it had a modicum of spelt boosting those unfermentable solids.  Svelte, radiant, oddly beautiful like Emma Stone in BIrdman.

Look at me.  Look at me. I am the saison captain now.  I am the farmhouse captain.

Look at me. Look at me. I am the saison captain now. I am the farmhouse captain.

The nose continues the pageantry in a way that is unparalleled by even Shaun Hill standards.  In the struggle for their own dominance over their own product this grip the tail of Ann and the throat of Art and co-dominance is established like some acidic alleles contributing this master race phenotype.  I hope you didn’t fail high school biology, otherwise Ctrl+T that shit. There is intense orange, grand marnier meets cut construction paper, wet Jansport backpacks, bikes in the rain covered in Donald Duck orange juice, crushes leaves, bittering conifer aspects on the closer and this sweetly acidic finish like a Jamba Juice peach dream.  It is frustratingly enticing to a fault.

Hit that bottle spread eagle, label cocked open like that Jordan logo

Hit that bottle spread eagle, label cocked open like that Jordan logo

The taste is creamy orange julius from the mall with brett C funk contributing an aged cheddar cheesiness to the gumline, the most refined acidity this side of BA Cellarman, crisp anjou pear dryness on the swallow that lingers with a clementine pithy bitterness.  It is orange and cuties through and through with massive cascading waves of bitterness, acidity and funk like LED lights at a TRAP show contributing to full immersion.  There is a touch of imperfect honey sweetness that is perceptible that has a sweet meets mineral character, but this is literally the only fault I can detect after assiduously prying apart this entire 750ml solo.

Liquefy this photo in its purest platonic form and imbibe it

Liquefy this photo in its purest platonic form and imbibe it

In sum this is the pinnacle of the HF catalog and only Ann and Art can stand as coherent rivals to this crown.  It easily stands in the top 10 best saisons I have ever had in my life and I can’t imagine someone walking the razors edge of funk, musk, acidity, and drinkability.  It takes the best aspects of all prior saisons and unites them in defiance of a composition fallacy that I had ready to toss like critical shurikens.  One guy wanted Fou + Hommage for this bottle 2:1 and, while this will rock the Belgian lambic-curator dipshits to their core, it is hands down worth it,  It exists as a pinnacle of the most nuanced of genres and flat out runs at even clip with the best lambics I have ever had.

Past and present progressive  rusticity

Past and present progressive rusticity

Writing favorable reviews is shitty, but I have to doff my coal dusted Dickensian cap when shit operates on this tier.


GUEST REVIEW: Three Floyds Topless Wytch, Pagan worshippers straight stacked

HOW CAN I BE ANY FUCKING LAZIER? This site is already the post-bike ride taint of the beer world, but now I am farming out my own shitty beer reviews to legitimately talented writers? You get what you pay for on this site OKAY. Today’s guest review is the same contributor from the Lawsons Kiwi Double IPA Review aka Hevvymetalhippie. Thank you for your work, now I can chase down diabetes in peace. I will give him the floor:

How apropos to be reviewing this beer during one of the last snowfalls of the winter, it doesn’t get more metal than this beer. Not only are there a pentagram, an inverted cross, and an axe on the “death metal band font” label, but…titties! Besides, what is best in life? Answer: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women. I’ve been waiting to drink this beer for months; this Wytch isn’t topless, say the titties is out.

Tatties straight blasting harder than the Four Play label. NSFW beer.

Tatties straight blasting harder than the Four Play label. NSFW beer.

Three Floyds Brewing
Munster, IN
Baltic Porter || 9.00%

Appearance: Even a hard pour couldn’t get a head to form on this godless harlot. If anything there’s a thin and tight ring of bubbles, that quickly vanish to a scant ring around a mysterious coffee black body. Why you gotta be so triflin’! When I set a burning bible behind the glass, looking through the darkness to the other side, deep shades of burgundy and garnet reflect from the glass…robey tones braj…robey tones. And for the record, no lacing, this wytch is topless remember

I looked closer at that label and wuz all lyke-

I looked closer at that label and wuz all lyke-

Smell: On the initial pour bakers chocolate, bitter coffee and sweet malt are as
obvious, but much like the letter art on the label, not all is what it seems. To qualify
as a Baltic Porter, a higher ABV must be created to withstand travel to the “Baltic”
regions, as well as being bottom fermented at lower temperatures. A slight vinous
character emerges from the briny deep as well, perhaps an unholy note of satanic

Taste: If it smells like a wytch, looks like a wytch, then its PROBABLY A FUCKING
WITCH! This beer is awesome, straight up. A lot translates over from the nose,
but richer and sweeter as it warms. It’s probably sucking my soul out Dementor
style like a golf ball through a garden hose…yeah think about that. If 3 Floyds ever
decided to barrel age these, or better yet do barrel aged variants of this, they’d have
a line down the street of beer geeks willing to sell their souls for this potential insta-
Whale. I see bourbon barrel, port, or even cognac going over very well.

This beer might be deemed sexually offensive and offputting to women, but ladies be loving dem imperial porters tho.

This beer might be deemed sexually offensive and offputting to women, but ladies be loving dem imperial porters tho.

Mouthfeel: While thinking of how to make a joke about doing body shots of Topless
Wytch off a topless witch and how hedonistically aristocratic I felt sitting amongst
a pile of recently traded beers, I couldn’t help but notice how badly I wanted this
to be a thick witch. If only it had gone further down the road into stoutsville; well
I guess it’d just be a barrel aged imperial stout; fuck me right? Some people like
their women like they like their stouts: thick and fudgy. AMIRITE? Hey where’s
everybody going?

Drinkability/Overall: I accidently a whole Topless Wytch…is this bad? Over a
prolonged and more civilized drinking session; like a respectable adult would have,
not some college frat bro drink-a-thon shit show, where I’m sucking down beer like
a man-titted bridge troll whose life depended on it; I realize that my beer nerd rage
wants, and rash judgments might be a tad hasty. This is an excellent beer, another
world-class offering from 3 Floyds. I have come to the realization that drinking
amazing beer regularly has clouded my judgment on what is actually a good beer
and what is a phenomenal beer. It’s tough isn’t it? #firstworldproblems. It could
be enhanced if they bumped the ABV up, tossed that topless bitch in a barrel like
she deserves and let her out some months later, but it’s also excellent all on its
own. Satanic imagery, evil letter art, tits, a Norwegian Black Metal album, and one
amazing beer later, I’m ready to sign my name into the black book of death, if this is
any predicator of things to come.

Ultimately it is a porter, it is a non-imperial stout, black ale, fuck if I can explain what this is.

Ultimately it is a porter, it is a non-imperial stout, black ale, fuck if I can explain what this is.

Narrative: It had been three weeks since Lydia had seen the sun. Her skin, pallid and
milky had been untouched by the light of day, her purple blue veins read like a map,
roads down her arms and into her hands. Inside the cemetery catacombs, the need
for clothes had become moot; the temperature often soared leaving the mausoleum
sweltering in the mid-day Louisiana sun, causing her to venture deeper into the
dark vaults, bereft of clothes. Further she walked, blindly and topless into the earth,
hand upon the wall, beyond the oldest portions of the grave until she reached the
terminus of the pit. There upon the roughly hewn ledge lay her prize, the Black
Book! It had taken her years to find its final resting place, but here it was and here
she was. Warm to the touch, the book was waiting for her, to inscribe her name into
it, and cast it from the book of life. Perhaps now she would feel the satisfaction, the
comeuppance in unlife that she so desperately desired in life. Lydia was becoming a


Three Floyd’s Murda’D Out Stout, For When Being Baller Just Isn’t Enough and Your Beer Needs that Persian Appeal

Three Floyd’s pushes the limits in two things: 1) hoppiness and 2) the elasticity of my anus for these extremely expensive releases. This beer was a ~800 bottle release priced at a whopping $50 a bottle. Some people might be cracking a Rare and shrugging their shoulders, but for the rest of us not living off of capital gains, $50 for a beer is a serious perineum pounder. Anyway, by way of history, almost 2 years ago, Baller Stout came out and it was $30, and beer nerds were acting like the 4 horsemen of the stoutpacalypse had arrived: a blend of Darkness, Dark Lord, Beer Geek Brunch, and Black Albert. So when they announced this, I knew shit was gonna get real. They did not mention that they aged each component beer in barrels prior to blending for 14 months then CPK “two in a bowled” that stout for this masterpiece. Enough fluffing, let’s get to full on stout ejaculation.

Some people be like "$50 rare bottle and you rock pours like that" yeah welcome to DDB, where we arent poor acorn dicks. Make yourself at home.

Some people be like “$50 rare bottle and you rock pours like that” yeah welcome to DDB, where we arent poor acorn dicks. Make yourself at home.

Three Floyds Brewing Co. & Brewpub
Indiana, United States
Style | ABV
Russian Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This has the slick oiliness like Parabola with a nice beige roast still hiding in the bubbles letting you know there is some unresolved shit going on in there. The pour is deep black but sadly I was expecting it to have a “flat black” sheen to it like those stupid assholes in West Hollywood who want people to know this is THEIR RANGE ROVER AND JUST BECAUSE THEIR DAD PAID FOR IT DOESNT MAKE IT HIS PARENT’S CAR. It is shiny black instead.

What's that you say? $50 1 per person brewery release? IN THE MIDWEST? Well I never.

What’s that you say? $50 1 per person brewery release? IN THE MIDWEST? Well I never.

S: Holy hell this is a complex beer and you have to pull it apart like an onion, or the psoriasis on your testicles. I feel like that Dark Lord leads with its robed black foot first and supplies a deep black blast of sugar, turbinado sweetness, bakers chocolate and Hershey’s syrup all wrapped in a warm bourbon blankie straight from the dryer. You get this coffee pat on the back from Mikkeller, but fuck Mikkeller, the only reason you are hanging out with Beer Geek anything is because it is surrounded by a ton of hot stout chicks. Darkness finishes things out with a deep roasty dryness and this mallowfoam smell that just lingers like when you wonder how many Taco Bell items that you bought the night before.

T: This taste has the complexity of the above and is like Hungry Hungry Hippos just raping your tastes buds with cascading elbows of roast, then bourbon sweetness, then coffee acidity, and chocolate Stone Cold stunning the fuck out of every taste zone. It reminds me if you took the amazingness of Barrel Aged Dark Lord (any really) and they started tossing on body kits, rims, spoilers, and all kinds of extraneous shit. It is a bit sloppier in execution as a result, but it is genuinely every bit as good. I am so glad that this beer has flown so deeply under people’s respective radars. I guess that $50 price tag and the 1 per person was enough to pucker more than a few buttholes, BUT MY BUTTHOLE REMAINS UNPUCKERABLE.

Drink this stout, then go try a normal ass off shelf offering and be all like-

Drink this stout, then go try a normal ass off shelf offering and be all like-

M: This is sticky on the teeth with residual sugars and stick malts but also slightly wafty from the bourbon and the bitter zones get this deep char, Slippy is just doing barrel rolls all day and doesn’t even need to be saved. I can’t accurately restate the mouthfeel without just putting the aforementioned adjectives in a tumble dryer, so fuck it, if you dont get it this might not be the right place for you.

D: This likely has an ABV above 13% abv and I would drink this shit all day long. No qualifier like “I meant during winter” or some bullshit, I will drink this before my job as a bus driver because everyone knows 1) bus drivers cant get DUIs and 2) no one can get a DUI while the sun is up. It is widely known. The cruelest jokes are always the best beers being the least accessible (INB4 Parabola assholes, I know, I know.) Now forget everything I just said, I dont want you ungrateful assholes ruining my chances at landing another one of these. If you have one, it was not even that good, I will send you some Knee Deep stuff for one. Get at me.

Sure it was $50 and super rare, but try to enjoy yourself at least.

Sure it was $50 and super rare, but try to enjoy yourself at least.

NarratiVe: The life of a Chimera only seemed like a blast from the outside. Sure, you are fierce and amazing, aweinspiring at worst. But what about those other times? Try sharing the duality of identity with a series of united beasts. I was born a lion head attached to the body of a dragon, sharing an L1-L2 spinal segment with a goat head, and an unruly snake as a tail. You think I ever got to finish my memoirs with all those assholes constantly wanting to fly around, raid villages, slay King Cnut’s people, submerge scandinavian sea vessels, and fuck all else? Yeah, no rest to be had at all. The snake is diabetic and constantly complaining about our iron and glucose intake, I swear that fucking goat head just eats anything, peasant huts, cabbage farms; anything. Last week the dragon tried to use our penis to have sex with a Manticore. A FUCKING MANTICORE. Can you imagine the bush on that thing? Having a shared penis is bad enough but, you gotta draw the line somewhere. Sure, I am one piece of a fierce beast, but I have so much more complexity than outsiders ever imagine.


3 Floyd’s Dark Lord, Yes Regular Old Darklord, No Vanilla, No Bourbon, No Brandy Just The Lord Himself.

Well I already did Vanilla Bourbon Dark Lord so we might as well backtrack and hunt down the more accessible offerings so that we know where these whales come from. Some people love this big monster. It sits on the top 100 with two variants of itself and smiles knowingly at the uninitiated. If you do not have extensive experience with 1) imperial stouts and 2) insulin administration, then you need not apply. Let’s burn a somber offering to the Darkest of Lords in today’s review.

I have had multiple vintages of this but I can’t find pics of them, so here’s a pic of the bottle I drew in MS paint for you. Enjoy.

Three Floyds Brewing Co. / Brewery & Pub
Indiana, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | 15.00% ABV

A: thick but not black finish, more like a warm melted brown sugar deep brown, light passes through in a deep mahogany at the edges. This isn’t the most viscous beer that I have ever seen but you can tell it is up to something, the way it swallows the carbonation whole and envelops all signs of lacing.

The dark lord be peepin like a sweet sugar daddy.

S: There is a huge, high heat, sweet coffee and tart toffee notes, with wafty boozy notes. To say that it is sweet smelling would be akin to saying that Sasha Gray is mildly attractive. This has dark fruits, soy sauce aspects, and a strange maltball smell to it like melted whoppers. I got my epipens ready.

T: Wow, several layers to this beast. At the outset it feels like Chocolate Rain Jr. It has a huge malty sweetness, some dark fruits, molasses and sugar, brown nuts, melted cane sugar, 85% chocolate, light dryness, sticky brown sugar, and just incredibly sweet. Imagine if you took all the balance out of Chocolate Rain and then left all the residual sugars without any malts to support this track racer. This beer reminds me of my friend who once put dual engines in a MKII VW Golf, it was insane, loud, overpowered and completely unbalanced. You can’t take it anywhere, no one knows what to do with it, but some people like it like that.

This seems hardcore at first, then you realize it is just a misunderstood sweetheart.

M: there is nice coating that is not overly filling. Ultimately the sweetness is overriding and almost too much, but I enjoy the extremes. This seems like it would clearly be more enjoyable if aged, it is tough to knock it for my own lack of patience. I feel that it lives up to the hype for sheer ambition and amazing execution. However, my experience has been that this beer needs at least 3 years to relax, otherwise those residual sugars take you to the candy shop. It seriously reminds me of thin coffee with too much Sugar In The Raw added to it.

D: This suffers the most simply because I am a jumpy bastard and didn’t let it age. Well guess what, boo hoo, don’t put beer out that isn’t ready to be dranken. But seriously, I have to mark down the 2011 simply because it is, a 2011. The 2012 was even more insane. I bet something like the 2008 would be chocolate sex, but I don’t have the time or patience for that nonsense. It is awesome now, but sublime later, like those hateful smart girls you neglected so fully in geometry.

Everytime Darklord slays a soul, your hypoglycemic index goes up.

Narrative: Among the most challenging items on a daily basis that faced J.P. Cacoaworth was how to close the daily deal. Each day when he walked into his spacious corner office he took a hot snifter of bourbon and ruminated over the idea of closing the deal. Sometimes J.P. was as sweet as a candyman, providing settlement documents with a sticky panache. Sometimes he put the heat on and pressured the other party in by hectoring their better sense. He was a calm master of his trade, patient and full of sweet heat. Some would say that aluminum siding can sell itself, but they likely have not met the petulant master of faux wood coverings. “WELL IF THEY THINK THAT THEY CAN GET MOUNTING BRACKETS FROM ME FOR FREE, THEY HAVE NOT MET THE HATEFUL GOD OF WINDOW COVERINGS AND I WILL FLY DOWN ON MY BLACKENED CHARIOT OF RAGE AND IMPART FIREY SWEETNESS ONTO THEIR CUL DE SAC.” Today was a sweet day.


Amon Amarth Ragnarok Porter, One of the Only Reasons to Move Out of Indiana

AAAmon, I worka 3 jobs mon, Oh, I'm sorry? In Living Color references not welcome here? Fine.

Amon Amarth Ragnarok, Porter 8.2% Abv

A: This has a deep watery coffee appearance to it with deep brown hues and a nice cool whip head with stained glass lacing. That shit cray.

S: It has an incredible hop presence which is basically to be expected from 3 Floyd’s they put hops in their children’s baby bottles. I dont get anything else, it’s pretty limited and not chocolatey or coffee as the appearance would suggest. Ho hum.

Looks like one thing, turns out to be another.

T: This tastes like a black ipa with a little bit of coffee to it. I call shenanigans, this isn’t a porter at all. Here I was, innocently hoodwinked into drinking what I thought would be an amazing chocolate funland, and I end up in the grass mowing down herbal goodness. It isn’t exactly bad, but I can’t help but feel like orphan dreams smashed on the rocks around December 25th.

M: The mouthfeel is thin and herbal with a lingering dryness (read: Just like a fucking IPA.) It doesn’t coat that well, which I guess is good since I dont feel like wiping pine cones off of my teeth, at least not when I was expecting on holding Gene Wilder’s hand into a magnificent candy paradise. This isn’t bad but it is just unexpected. I went to see Drive expecting a rom-com and, well, just go see that shit and you’ll understand.

Some things, despite their packaging, have underlying truths.

D: For a double IPA, this has a great drinkability and, even with the huge abv, this is plenty sessionable. However, I just feel so badly misled that I cant with an honest conscience tell you that I would seek this out and buy it again. These excuses from the Porter only go so far, it needs to come out of the hop closet and declare that it truly is. Embrace the cones.

Narrative: Chase Franci applied make up to his face assiduously and prepared for his big speech. “I can’t keep this up forever, come on Chance, just tell Mr. Walters the truth!” Just as he was uttering these thoughts to himself, Mr. Walters’s assistant burst in and announced “Mr. Walters will see you in 5 minutes, good luck.” The company internal minority promotion initiative seemed like a smart enough idea: promote diversity, engender a core nucleus of new ideas and add altering viewpoints to the corporate board. This would be all well and good but Chase was as white as the convergence of the UV spectrum. He pushed his make up materials into his briefcase and exited the corporate bathroom with a cool, calm poise as he strode down past the cubicles. Chase’s co-workers stared agape at the patently offensive racist makeup that he had just applied. Chase flicked a dab of shoepolish off of his lapel and smiled big, the look of an alter ego that was shooting up the corporate ladder. Chase strode into Mr. Walters’s office and declared “wazzzzupppppp!” Mr. Walters just sat there for a moment wondering, “what in the name of God did Chase think that he was doing? Surely he couldn’t have actually believed that blackening his face like a silent movie character would suffice to earn him a spot on the- actually, that is a pretty bold move.” Mr. Walters took out a corporate checkbook and immediately wrote him out a bonus before Chase could utter another cliched phrase. Mr. Walters smiled and handed chase a check, payment for being a complete fraud, “OH SNAP! THAT IS SOME SERIOUS CHEDDAR!” Chase exclaimed as his now-subordinates shook their heads in disbelief.


3 Floyd’s Arctic Panzer Wolf, Imperial IPA, 9% abv


Arctic Panzer Wolf, Three Floyds, imperial IPA 9% abv

A: Very transparent thin yellow almost lager color, good carbonation and lots of sticky lacing. Middle carbonation throughout. There’s no cool way to say this, but, it is a very…pretty…beer…like it looks hella tight with the golden hue and sick bubbles, yeah.

S: holy citrus bomb, you get a huge bouquet of pineapple, apricot, and a bit of a melon smell from the hops. Remiscient of a brighter pliny with more citrus and no herbal aspects

T: Strangely the huge citrus notes arent as present on the palate but that doesn’t mean that this is a flawed beer, just got the old hopes up a bit too high with the amazing smell. It has a fast clean finish with no linger hop dryness, just a sweet juicy hop profile that is incredibly smoothe. If this is an imperial IPA, you would never know it. No alcoholic heat and it drinks like a single IPA.

M: Great frothiness, nice middle ground of coating and bubbly crispness. It has this “just out of the shower IPA” sort of feel to it that is hard to find in beers this big. It is a good thing that this isn’t readily available on the west coast because I could see beach disasters with a beer this refreshing maintaining its stealthy abv.

D: This is gonna get a solid 5/5 on this aspect. The drinakbility is scary, a bomber of this evaporates incredibly quickly. I would be interested to try this on tap to see if it is consistently this drinkable. Notwithstanding, one bomber will not be enough, 2 may be too few as well. Go to Indiana and stock up I guess because you will burn through quantities of this beer incredibly quickly.

Narrative: The hop strain was too powerful and OPEC knew it. Their days of limitless control were over once the hop oil shieks took control. “And the rancid odor SHALL FILL THE STREETS OF THE PACIFIC NORTH WEST!” the new dictators boomed emphatically from their Oregon and Canadian mounts. After the hop profiles were discovered, nothing else was left aside from destitute desert life. At least, no one had to live in Indiana any more. The masses sigh a huge breath of relief and brows were wiped universally. “AND TODAY, THIS CAR MAY RUN ON HOP OIL, BUT NOT A SINGLE DROP OF BLOOD WAS SPILLED LIVING IN THE TURBULENT MIDWEST.” The crowd cheered triumphantly, knowing what a huge obstacle they had overcome.


Three Floyd’s Gumball Head, Belgian Pale Ale, The Midwest Starts Big Leaguing

Getting some GumballHead, get get getting some-

3 floyds Gumball head Belgian Pale Ale, Indiana Starts Socking Fools.

A: super thin lager clarity, bright yellow gold, nice foamy carbonation, no lacing. It isn’t anything to write home about, but neither was that ornate horse that toppled the walls so lovingly crafted by Poseidon. Both involve epic things.

S: It smells of pine and orange, some lemon zest, but not in a huge hoppy DIPA/IPA way, more understated. It feels like someone who knows a good deal about hops but references then so expertly that the underlying experience is presented clearly.

T: very mellow citrus notes, quick hop finish, super refreshing, very well done. There is a light hoppy presence that is almost a garnish to the sweet refreshing notes at the outside of the taste. The final amazing closer is the cucumber crispness finish, this beer just screams summertime. Which is strange because I usually imagine summertime in Indiana as being muggy, boring, and not delicious. Paradoxes abound.

M: Just fantastic, especially for a cross-over style. They seemed to take a big risk by compromising the smallest elements, resulting in a huge payoff. In reality, they need to only sell these in growlers because that is the reasonably demanded service size of this refreshing beer.

D: This makes me hate the Midwest even further. It is strictly unfair that a place without a beach, without any coastal weather would make something with this level of refreshment. I don’t sit around reading Sherpa books, I don’t go rotating city crops in urban los angeles, because I KNOW MY PLACE. It just is not fair that Indiana makes a beer like this and then withholds it from the west coast. It is akin to the aesthetics of Mormons. Patent base denial.

Narrative: Parents were a little skeptical of Gumbalicitus, a shiny new fangled prescription drug for unruly Midwestern children. Settlers used to call it wind sickness, but they soon learned that it was an irascible desire to leave locations of concentrated boredom. That is, until this new drug arrived, served in 12oz doses, the highly enjoyable cocktail drug apparently makes even the flattest, most agricultural areas completely tolerable. Iowa parents noted that their students even volunteered to stay in-state upon being prescribed this barbituate calming drug. Side-effects include narcolepsy, contentment, desires to attend comicons, Xbox live subscriptions, and consumption of Hot Pockets. Gumbalicitus is only to be provided to those in need. Anyone living within 90 miles of the Pacific Ocean should not take this drug as it may result in an endorphine overload, burning out the neural cortex. SHIPPING IS STRICTLY DISALLOWED TO CALIFORNIA.