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2013 vs 2014 Old Forester Birthday Bourbon aka that OFBB B-Day Round Off

Whenever I post a whiskey review cervixes get bruised and someone pipes up with urethral hurt complaining for one reason or another.  It is either hardcore bourbon heads watching the bow of their beloved ship sink woefully into the bubbling tide, dashed upon the rocks of secondary markets and dipshit foodies and the last thing they need are a bunch of beta casuals crossing over.  Alternatively it is hardcore beer nerds who bristle at providing any content about the emptied vessels they covet so hard, WE LOVE PAPPY BARRELS BUT FUCK OFF IF I HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT THESE PRE-BEER PHASES.

At any rate, the show must go on, gotta drive up engagement, push new users to this smoldering Passchendaele mudpit of death.  So today I will be doing a heads up of two vintages of Old Forester Birthday Bourbon, if you don’t like it, go dust the calcified cum shards off of Beerpulse and live how you see fit.

Blue painter's tape and lab vials? You know this is about to be a pro review.

Blue painter’s tape and lab vials? You know this is about to be a pro review.

Old Forester Birthday Bourbon has been made since 2002 and it resides gleefully in that power to dollar wheelhouse next to Elmer T Lee and Weller 107 that people have consistently scooped up.  Recently people have lost six degrees of shit over this 2013 vintage, not since it was declared MALT ADVOCATE WHISKEY OF THE YEAR in 2007 have nips throbbed this longingly.  So let’s compare the two and sweat it out together.

At this point beer assholes will argue over all kinds of stupid shit.

At this point beer assholes will argue over all kinds of stupid shit.

2013 OFBB 4 BBWs 97 proof:

The color looks a touch lighter than the 2014 and this evidences a tenor for what continues.  The nose is floral, cherry, baking spices, red fruit, overall just sweeter than a Korean teenager and even more loyal.  The taste isnt especially complex nor is the finish exceedingly long, there’s not real syrupy viscosity to it.  Where it excels is a simple burnt brown sugar, candied walnuts, and cinnamon life cereal.  Others seem to opine that this has some lengthy finish but I can’t support that with any modicum of 4realzness.  For an ostensible $35, i.e. $120 on secondary market, shit is pretty legit.

OH SHIT TODAY IS PIZZA DAY

OH SHIT TODAY IS PIZZA DAY

2014 OFBB, m4m, 97 proof

The color is far darker than the proof and age would let on, and the nose follows suit with a deep woody dryness to it, there’s oak, sawdust, apple pie and a red hots candy finish.  It is far less sweet than the 2013 but I suppose it feels “older” or has a touch more depth.  The types of masochists who were grinding the bedpost over saz18 will find this to be in that same minty oaky vein.  The alcohol is more present, it is drier and more peppery, it forgoes that bakery sweetness and runs a route of oaky dryness.

Overall: people keep creaming their jeans over both of these and, if you can find them at retail it is well worth your time, the shitmouths trying to flip these for Fou Foune x 2 can fuck right off.  For the $40 on shelf category you can do far worse, but you can also do far better. In terms of secondary market balling, dropping that $110+ for the 2013 again doesnt seem to make sense when there are so many other formidable choices.

No one gives a fuck, back to your regularly scheduled malt tits programming.

posts like these would get me thrown out of other ultra elite beer discussion societies.

posts like these would get me thrown out of other ultra elite beer discussion societies.

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2

@fremontbrewing Coffee Cinnamon Barrel Aged Abominable aka that C.C.B.Bomb.

In what can only be described as an ISO:FT miracle, Fremont brewing has not been forced into a cattle car aboard the hype train.  Despite consistently knocking out big beers, having a solid barrel aging program and constantly rolling out delicious top notch hoppy beers, their fanbase refuses to be total shitheads.  If this brewery were located in say, Indiana, forget about it, you would see people attempting to trade Bbomb for one off cantillon, selling them on secondary sites, just really pricking up the place.  I liken these Washington tickers as a strain of the magnanimous Colorado breed: they just produce awesome beer and shut the fuck up about it.  Haven’t heard of Black Raven or Casey Brewing? Well it’s not their job to keep you informed, they will gladly drink up their world class offerings under the fall of torrential rain or snow, respectively.

So what do we have here, anyway? You might recall I previously already praised regular B-Bomb top to bottom as a leaner more nimble version of Kuhnhenn’s BB4d.  This is especially true of their recent offerings, solara style blending of a variety of different ages of barrels.  So that’s already what we are dealing with, THEN, they go and add cinnamon and coffee up in the mix.  I was skeptical, and I was fucking wrong.

ANOTHER ROUND OF BARREL AGED ALES AND THEN PLAY FREEBIRD

ANOTHER ROUND OF BARREL AGED ALES AND THEN PLAY FREEBIRD

Fremont Brewing, Seattle area, 11% abv

Strong Ale? It’s essentially an old ale/barleywine.  Let’s get to it.

A:  This just looks phenomenal out of the bottle, rolling with a great slick to it, deep mahogany hues and carb that actually delivers and doesn’t just lay placid like we have come to expect from big stouts and barleywines.  The cling is awesome and leaves sheets of mocha foam rimming the glass like a toothy prison blowjob. OH JUST ME? OK SURE.

When they announced this beer, instead of being a skeptical asshole, I should have jumped on it

When they announced this beer, instead of being a skeptical asshole, I should have jumped on it

S:  The nose works in waves of cascading roasted coffee, churros, cinnabon, milk chocolate, nougat, whoppers and closing with a sweet roasty aspect.  It delivers in equal measure what it promises and never lets one aspect upstage the others, like a finely tuned Brady Bunch performance, every child receives a moment to shine before KEEPIN ON KEEPIN ON KEEPIN ON back in the chorus line.  The real star here is the balance, god damn it all.  If BA Abraxas is the paradigm for excessive cinnamon sweetness, this demonstrates how to take two aggressive adjuncts and make them work in tandem to buttress the main goal: a fantastic beer.

T:  This flips the shit switch and the amount of balls tripped is not insubstantial.  You get all of the foregoing barista and horchata cinnamon goodness, but a whole other layer of butterscotch and vanilla and mallowfoam.  It never is excessively roasty, nor is it cloyingly sweet, and it complely avoids the mexican barrio panaderia route.  Again I must underscore just how well balanced this beer is, I can’t even pander any trite dick jokes because there is no succor to be beaten from this libation, it is unquestionably one of the top beers of 2014, hands down.

Sometimes you encounter a beer that is so good, you dont even know what to complain about

Sometimes you encounter a beer that is so good, you dont even know what to complain about

M:  This is yet another aspect where this beer outdoes itself and sets the bar for not only BA old ales/BABW but also a benchmark for adjunct laden beers in general.  It is so refreshing and nimble, so thin on the mouthfeel that you can appreciate the variety of flavors without a cacophony of sweetness, residual malt, flabby underattenuated sugars, or any other chocolately sub plots that detract from the main thread.  It begs to be consumed and I killed this bomber in the same amount of time it took me to drink De Garde Hose.  That is fucking dangerous and it is almost irresponsible from a products liability standpoint for Fremont to even produce beers of this nature.

D:  See above, I don’t need to retread this same well tilled ground: it is intensely enjoyable and highly drinkable.  If it had a major fault, I suppose it would be that it is TOO easy to take down, perhaps the guilt of indulging that hard, that fast is the real lingering residue on my burlap colored teeth.  If you miss this one, particularly with how criminally low it is trading right now, you might as well stick to BCBCS nonsense and become base filler in the trade game.  Not tasting this beer renders you a place holding zero on the trade boards as far as 2014 is concerned.  In fact, please don’t seek this out, let it turd up the shelves in PNW so I can hope to again savor this ambrosial delight.

CBBOMB is on that dual monocle tip

CBBOMB is on that dual monocle tip

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BOURBON CAGEMATCH: George T. Stagg versus Stagg Jr., hitting them rawdog and then iced out Cease a Leo

Content overload from DDB today.  Maybe Leftyhyzer was right, maybe I am an attention seeking dipshit with leftover foreskin due to a botched circumcision.  MAYBE THEY WERE ALL RIGHT.

I promised this review to Libbey. Gonna paint him on my local handball court. RIP bezzled out pieces.

So here at DDB we have been yapping off at the nanners about VALUE distinctions, G.E. Moore immutable definition of the good, aesthetic returns on comparable value sets, WHICH IS DOPER BRAH, shit of the nature.  So as a bonus, today we are going to chop it up and take a run at the bourbon world to test those axioms to see if the old HEY IT IS ALL THE SAME JUICE tautology rings true. So we are taking a $300 secondary market bourbon (GTS) and its baby brother at $90ish secondary (Stagg Jr.)  ALL THE PEDOS WILL PREFER THE JR. AND THEN WE MAKE JOKES ABOUT HOW YOUNG IT IS.  Classic levity.

So do we make midwest pour jokes when it comes to expensive bourbon, I forget the rules.  THIS SHIT IS MORE COMPLICATED THAN SETTLERS OF CATAN.

So do we make midwest pour jokes when it comes to expensive bourbon, I forget the rules. THIS SHIT IS MORE COMPLICATED THAN SETTLERS OF CATAN.

Alright first up, 2014 George T. Stagg, BTAC Collection. 138.1 proof.

Aged 16 years, LOL JUST LIEK YOU LIKE THEM BECAUSE AGE OF CONSENT IN KENTUCKY LOLOLOL

This is a big thick hummer tick, in a hummer whip, it will beat you liver like a big dick plumber dick. It has a deep oakiness to it and is one of the darkest, deepest ambers in the bourbon world this side of Elijah Craig Barrel proof and Old Blowhard.  It is burnt caramel and menacing looking, better wear a cup. The nose is so. fucking. powerful.  You get a massive waft of concentrated lacquer and oak, sawmill shavings, burnt turbinado sugar, 8th grade woodshop, toasted peanut brittle and honeycomb.

The hnnnggg is real.  A force to be reckoned with, like dating a hairdresser, things get apeshit real quick.

The hnnnggg is real. A force to be reckoned with, like dating a hairdresser, things get apeshit real quick.

This is a beast without water and the taste is extremely syrupy in the mouthfeel just moving and setting up its oaky Hentai objects around the studio apartment that is your mouth.  Shit gets hot real fast.  The water helps to tame this beast in a massive way.  I usually feel like a needledick when I have to reach for the water, undoing all the cask strength goodness with my bitchassness.

I didn't choose the BTAC game, the BTAC chose me.

I didn’t choose the BTAC game, the BTAC chose me.

Ultimately the fusel notes are overpowering and the oak dominates without water.  With a touch of lube, things get way more exciting.  You get leather, that honey and lemon pledge, sticky molasses and a lingering cinnamon more common in aged ryes.  Shit is real tasty.  Be man and and sip it forever with no water, put on Say Yes to the Dress and feel your testicles swell. The water nukes the banana and poundcake finish, but with great power comes great drunken sexts.

Ok enough royalty tier ticks,

NO GLENCAIRN THIS STUDY IS FLAWED

NO GLENCAIRN THIS STUDY IS FLAWED

Stagg Jr. 9 years old [lol bc underaged jokes, always so funy] 134.4 proof

This bourbon fucks you like it is fresh out of jail.

This bourbon is drastically younger and is a fraction of the cost, wouldn’t it be such an economic parable if I could tell you to drink this and we all rubs inner thighs and congratulate our palates? There will be no thigh rubbing, congratulatory or otherwise. This is wildly different and not in that WHICH IS THE HOT TWIN sort of way.  One is clearly 9 years old and if you like it more, you should register with an online database of palate offenders.

The nose despite being lower proof is markedly hotter, sharper, angrier, bell pepperier, smashed werthers originals on the sidewalk, toasted almonds and pralines, and ethanol. The waft is fucking around to no demonstrable measure. The mouthfeel is notably drier and burns deeper like those memories of being pants’ed in gym class: it lingers in your chest forever.  It is less balanced, thinner, less oaky and just a more aggressive experience.  It is like a Tinder date with a cholo where every advance is just over the top. Some people liken this to Elijah Craig Barrel Proof but, this is vastly inferior and aside from the brute force, bears little resemblance to the imperial poise of GTS.

Behold, a master Whiskeronee.

Behold, a master Whiskeronee.

THE GOOD NEWS: adding water to this bridges the valley immesurably.  If you are drinking neat, GTS will decimate Jr.  However, with a splash of water, the deficiencies are markedly diminished and you can focus on the sticky caramello and Bit O Honey aspects.  There is a certain SKOR bar on the finish and, while not as complex, it isn’t 300% shittier, based on prices.  When you add water, it’s more like comparing a 370z to a GTR instead of like…a Sentra…that is also on fire.

NO SHIT GTS WON THIS CONTEST WOW SUCH SOLID SCIENCE HERE.

So if you have a shitload of cash to burn, get the GTS, if you have only a third of a shitload (metric) then buy Elijah Craig Barrel Proof instead. LOL wow we solved so many mysteries.

0

@anchoragebrew A Deal with the Devil Barleywine, Faustian Propositions; Flipping those boozy Alaska bricks

If you have been jumped in to the barleywine B-DUB crew, you know not to wear Airmaxes in the trap or a Chicago Bulls hoodie unless you wanna get laced up by some legit barleywine hitters. This is for the completely initiated. I know we joke around a lot about barleywines, upsets, and shelfwales around here. This is not to be fucked with. At first blush you might see that looming 17.3% abv and think you are hard, flexing your lats in the mirror remembering how you 1v1 wreked a bottle of Black Tuesday.

This is a whole different battle. Blood sweet and cognac running down your face. In Alaska the male population greatly outnumbers the female residents, this is how they cope: being blacked the fuck out 24/7. Let’s peep this icy beast in today’s review while we venture into the wild.

Seward’s folley.

Be cautious, that boozy is bigger than it appears.  This beer gone shake it like a red nose.

Be cautious, that boozy is bigger than it appears. This beer gone shake it like a red nose.

Anchorage Brewing Company
Alaska, United States
Style | ABV
American Barleywine | 17.30% ABV

Notes/Commercial Description:
Barleywine style ale brewed with Galaxy Hops. A starting gravity of 37 Plato. Aged eleven months in Cognac barrels.

A: This pours syrupy thick and rolls out of the bottle in an incorrigible manner. You cannot agitate this beer, the bubbles barely escape from the depth and die immediately upon hitting the surface like they have some malty bends. The beer rocks in the glass like a medicinal coating, this murky brown Ohio river sort of tepid murkiness. The sheeting is hilarious and comes down in clear ropes like when you jack it too much in one day, aka that cinco al dia. This is a massive, offstyle monster that swings hard with an overpowered arm like the Tyrant in Resident Evil. It turns me into a Jill sandwich.

Picture above, traders posting ISOs for this beer.

Picture above, traders posting ISOs for this beer.

S: Holy god, prepare for a walk to the edge and beyond. This takes the booziness of Xyauyu Gold to crazy new heights, or depths if you have a puckered butthole. This wafts fusel with a huge heat, coconut, almond, sherry, tawny port, caramel, cinnamon, and a massive dark fruit finish like overripe plums or blackberries you can crush in your fist. There’s light spice and oak, but again everything is dialed up to 11, no apologies are given and drinking this at 50 degrees was a hilarious act of futility, it was all oak and hops. Seriously just drink this at 65 and treat it like a liqueur, otherwise fuck it, you are wasting your $30 bottle. God knows what you paid to have something shipped to you from Alaska, better hope your wife doesn’t see that CC statement you irresponsible fuck.

T: This takes the insanity of the nose and renders it into a palpable malty madness. The viscosity is massive and leads with a fusel heat that strikes the gumline and imparts a warm toffee and cognac soaked peanut brittle front with surprising oaky hoppiness to balance things out. You know how in shitty movies when someone is getting bullied they get tossed around, straight getting rattled, that is how you palate feels keeping kicked from dude to dude just straight roughed up in a circle. It is hot but bitter, then soft and sweet and closes with an alcohol footing. This is less a barleywine and more in a class of those “ultra-ales” like Utopias, Xyauyu, Colossus, Five Squared, and the like. We drank this third in the blind BABW tasting and I laughed upon just smelling it, the intensity is so over the top you have a hard time taking it seriously like Crank 2, but it delivers on the nose and taste, if you have power leveled your palate, you will enjoy this sheer blunderbuss of malty glass and nails being sprayed across the deck of this Cognac man-of-war.

Weak tickers will make some comment about how their local barleywine is better, then secretly toss a beat sesh to this pics. That malty longing.

Weak tickers will make some comment about how their local barleywine is better, then secretly toss a beat sesh to this pics. That malty longing.

M: This leads syrupy thick, coating massively and heavier than most stouts of recent memory. It just goes overboard with the heat and if you take a large 2oz pull you might feel a tingle of a gag reflex, it is that wafty. But at room temp, just sip it and split this bitch 6 ways. You read that right, DDB is recommending giving this a straight up midwest treatment. Find your closest 10 friends with Untappd accounts and start popping those 5’s off. If you look at the reviews from other people who are pumping out thick loads of 5/5 100/100 all of their pours were like 3-4 ounces. Some American badass took down 5 oz, but any more than that is just too apeshit. No one puts on the entire Dragonforce Discography. That’s just too much face melting, it tires you out.

D: This is clearly not a marathon beer, hell, even powering through a full 8 ounce pour is baller status. I guess if you land a 150 case release from Alaska you should savor it. You could honestly cork this shit and come back to it a couple days later, this is indefatigable and you simply cannot oxidize this massive bitch. Trying to drill this feels like those last battles in Shadow of the Colossus where you are grinding for an hour just to take this bitch down. It is an undertaking that is fulfilling, albeit completely excessive and over the top. Invite your Yu Gi Oh friends over and get swerved.

Pour yourself a healthy portion and settle into whatever deviant ass activities that you have been meaning to get around to but couldn't bring yourself to do sober.

Pour yourself a healthy portion and settle into whatever deviant ass activities that you have been meaning to get around to but couldn’t bring yourself to do sober.

Narrative: Keanu looked pensively at the floating parchment paper, fixing his eyes on the floor and the mangoat legs of his sinister host. “So let me get this straight, even though I can’t play bass, can’t act, can’t sing, I can have it all, just to give you my soul?” Keanu asked the lord of darkness and took a deep pull of vintage 50 year cognac and bit into a bite of creme brulee. “Yessss Keanuuu, you can have a band, you can call it Dogstar and it still will be successfffullll, even though you are completely without merit,” Bezelbub’s eyes ignited a crimson flame, showing frames from the Bill and Ted sequels, almost terrifying in scope and perspective. “Keanuuu you cannot do thisss without dark interventionnnn” Mephisto importuned with a flaming red plume pen and Keanu took it reluctantly. “Alright Satan, but you have to promise that I retain creative control over Speed 2,” Keanu asked and signed in blood on the bottom line while finishing his Do Si Do, crumbs falling on the unholy document.

2

Stone Brewing, Mikhail’s Odd, Bourbon Barrel Aged IRS with Ryan Bros Espresso, Giving BA Speedway a Run for its Beans

Well it took years and years and years, but we finally have a legit Stone Barrel Aged IRS in a bottle: and both variants are fucking amazing. The abv is boosted, the mouthfeel is silkier, and they took all ratchet elements and made them more ratcheterer. Now I know you are reticent to believe old DDB after Friday’s palate bashing, but trust me on this one: California Coffee Stouts, this beer is ridiculous. I crossed my fingers, popped the most annoying cork in the world and prayed for no infection like those Planned Parenthood waiting room feels.

The Classic Fyodor tastes like a more aggressive version of my 2008 BA Stone IRS Review, which is to say it is fucking phenomenal.

Enough pandering, let’s get up in these guts and grind some of them beans.

Not only is this not infected, it is outrageously good in the platonic sense, good to the point of outrage at its existence. Them Forms.

Not only is this not infected, it is outrageously good in the platonic sense, good to the point of outrage at its existence. Them Forms.

Stone Brewing Company, Escondido
13.9% Abv (!)
38 ibus warrior hops in the boil, in the mash roasted barley and pale, amber and black malts, Ryan Bros coffee in the whirlpool

A: Just look at that bad bitch, this beer can pull a kickdoe and take the door like a malty black flashbang. The bottle is obnoxiously hard to open, the cork not only got stuck, but it broke under moderate force. At first I almost subbydeuced in my pants when I saw the substantial carb after being traumatized by the 2010 BA IRS debacle. There was no mistaking this shit though, shit looks viscous but not underattenuated, that Aristotelian Golden Mean in the Parabola and CW16 range, where you dont feel like a diabetic fuck (see: Huna) but you don’t feel like you are counting Weight Watchers Points (see: pre-2013 Eclipse/Czar Jack.) The mocha foam looks like a coffee drink prepared by one of those Suicide Girl looking baristas. Beer make you all nervous, you be buying cake pops and shit.

After dealing with missteps and knockoffs, Stone finally knocked it out of the park with its flagship offering.

After dealing with missteps and knockoffs, Stone finally knocked it out of the park with its flagship offering.

S: God fucking damnit. Why does this have to be $20 a 500ml with a nose like that? This takes that BA Speedway model and ramps up the roast and acidity like cold brew batches from Stumptown, chocolate and kaffir lime leaf, roasted graham cracker, mallowfoam and milk chocolate. The s’more joke is lingering but the coffee dominates and prevents an overlying sweetness and adds to the balance.

T: The sharp abv lingers more a moment on the tongue but is a perfect compliment to the toasty acidity of the coffee. There is a drying twix/chocolate aspect that warms the bitter zones with a light hoppy touch and closes with that same espresso bean waft that was such a fucking deal in the base beer. Nothing changes here, this beer just took that Impreza base beer and amped shit up to that Subaru RS Rallycar levels. My natural comparison is Morning Delight as it comes across as more substantial than BA Speedway, and I am too pussy to lock down KBBS so I have to leave the imrpession as a coovee between those two. The barrel lingers along the gumline with an incredible vanilla that isn’t that Lipsmacker lip gloss/Coldstone Creamery shit, its like the tannic oaky vanilla you get from Angel’s Envy left at room temp.

Between the magnificent caramel and vanilla of the barrel lies a poised coffee maltness, ready to embrace you

Between the magnificent caramel and vanilla of the barrel lies a poised coffee maltness, ready to embrace you

M: This is lighter than the hefty Abyss and massive BT/Huna finishing gravity masters, but so much for the better. Honestly I am not surprised given the character of regular ass, delicious Stone IRS. The coffee and the barrel just lay in bed with you like an exotic Craigslist casual encounter and you have way more than you bargained for. This shocked the hell out of me given how completely shitty most of the QM series presentations are, let’s be realistic here. I am the furthest thing from a Stone fanboy and their saison game could not even be salvaged by Stillwater intervention; but this, this is some other worldly shit.

D: Here we are 650 words in and the bottle is almost gone, exceedingly crushable and the complete lack of the cloying sweetness on the closer is underscored in a helvetica font by the dryness of the bourbon barrel and coffee toastiness. Inevitably some poor dipshit will interject with “BCBW COFFEE COSTS LESS AND IS PROBABLY BETER.” In this instance yes, BCBCS is much more affordable, but it simply is not better as a vehicle for delivery of coffee and barrel character, because this beer is stripped down with them Sparco seats and coffee momo pedals. BCBCS is far more affordable but this beer is simply the better executed of the two. If you are a poor fuck without a Fedex account, tell yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, I guess. The luxury is in its brashness, both beers are amazing and I love BCBCS, but this is a whole different game. Highly recommended.

This stout is more massive than it appears, take it in carefully.

This stout is more massive than it appears, take it in carefully.

Narrative: Mikhail Bulgakov rapped his state-issued fountain pen on the rich glaze on his imported poplar desk. The title sheet for his magnum opus, The Master and Margarita, lay unfinished and the onset of writers block lay across his limbs as he slumped into a supple lambskin loveseat. “It is not right, I need…something,” he remonstrated to himself as he rifled through his cabinets, seeking a generic bottle of rye whiskey issued by the local magistrate in gratitude for his recent work and gracious compliance with his stern ban. The silky sting of the rye made him long for a decadent malty treat, the kiss of a deep chocolate contraband, disallowed in the new Republic. “THAT IS IT, by God,” he feverishly sat at the compact Hammond 1B typewriter, fingers rapping out his masterpiece, urging aesthetic to the highest paradigm predicated on a single desire: to drink a fantastic stout free from governmental oppression. “Manuscripts don’t burn” in the same fashion that his desire for a creamy decadent libation burned in his heart. It would take decades to realize his dream, but the stark love of Russian Imperial Stouts and the dreams of free fermentation licenses powered the candid reality behind Margarita. The world was forever changed.

3

Voodoo Brewing Company, The K13: Suitable for Tickers grades K through 13

What is the 13th grade? Well it is technically that grade where you are taking City College classes part time but also working on your Ciceron certification. That way when you recommend Hop Devil, the people at Yard House will respect your opinion before they order Chelada. That grade.

First and foremost, huge thanks to Tom aka TRXXPAXXS for trxxpxxxing all over my porch with this rare gem. LYMI.

Well what do we have here? Another baller ass barleywine, business as fucking usual on DDB I guess. But wait, what if I told you it was 258 bottles, 1 per person. What if I said that there’s a string of butthurt analbeads from tickers who couldn’t land it: WHAT THEN? If that isn’t enough, IT WAS AGED IN PAPPY BARRELS = automatic instant wale. Ask Barrel Aged People’s Porter. Just kidding this is way better than that shit. So is this a King Henry destroyer? This didn’t get Rare’s sloppy seconds with pappy and it appears to go in hard. Let’s see if this is any better than those 452 KH gots, slowing fading in closets next to XXXL Northface jackets.

Such SRM, deep tones, many malts to make tastings (bourbon feels)

Such SRM, deep tones, many malts to make tastings (bourbon feels)

Voodoo Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Barleywine | 13.00% ABV

A: I will be honest and say that this isn’t the prettiest Barleywine on the block. This is straight up American barleywine with those deep muddy mahoganies, Old Ale looking color swaps, and none of those garnet/toffee/dark amber that I like to see but, if Jack Black’s Oscar winning performance in Shallow Hal has taught me anything: go for the bigger ones, they always deliver. Carb is pretty DEEZ, nothing too insane and the whole thing is lock step with BA Behemoth and Arctic Devil. Legit company to keep, for sheeze.

There are plenty of times to skull a 13% Pappy BW solo.  While dressed like Tinky Winky is not one of those times.

There are plenty of times to skull a 13% Pappy BW solo. While dressed like Tinky Winky is not one of those times.

S: This might be one of the finest BA American barleywines I have ever had. It doesn’t go all sweet fisted with candies, but instead provides more depth from the faded ass hops with malty roast, baked/burned bread, creme brulee torched caramel, baked apples, jammy figs and of. fucking. course. Pappy. The pappy is one of the few barrels that even a weak ass Certified Beer Server could pick out of a 6 pack lineup. You get that mallow foam on your titties, edible vanilla underwear, and oaky KY lube just getting that Pavlovian palate ready and wet.

T: This is barrel forward more than Donkey Kong Country. You get toasted oak drying at the outset, faded hops in the realm of Warrior adding a base for complexity, the same toasted Werther’s original I mentioned above but the entire thing is underscore by a fantastic warmth and barrel presence from them Pappies. Sometimes tits look better in the old brassierre and when you open it up expecting magic, that Pappy bra can’t hold it together. These malty tits are fantastic and present a great interplay of booziness supported by malt and complexity from the base beer’s old hoppy resin. It isn’t exactly a barrel bomb like something in the way of Kuhnhenn BBBW or Alpine Great, but it is its own lil reeeemix that shines, poppin Molly at a barrel aged dubstep show, spilling bourbon all over underaged chicks. The uze.

Whenever I see 1oz pours of a rare barleywine it's like WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING

Whenever I see 1oz pours of a rare barleywine it’s like WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING

M: This is admittedly hot, but in that toasty “dont be a vulva” sort of way that is compelled by Arctic Devil and the like. If the base beer didn’t have the complexity in the malt and hop profile, this might fall into a “just pretty awesome” realm like Sucaba and others. However, at higher temps this beast shines and stands out like that annoying ass drama student from a broken home. It craves your attention and seeks your approval. The finish is drying from the oak, but again, on the heels of everything else happening in this beer the dryness is a fantastic closer to the bourbon set. You want encores and shit.

D: This is not exceptionally drinkable in the sense of “hey let’s play Ni No Kuni, where did my pants go, fuck I am late for work.” This will get you swerved and it is more cerebral than some of the other offerings in this realm simply because you have at least 4 elements at play asking for your attention. The average taster will cop out and say EHHH ESS TOOO HAWWTTTT and then continue watching Storage Wars or some other bullshit. But for the rest of us, people with conviction and purpose, it is fucking amazing. I highly recommend this and it is well worth that DDG/BA Huna realm that it is trading within. Srs.

This beer will solve all kinds of problems.

This beer will solve all kinds of problems.

Narrative: The sleek aluminum doors opened with a cascade of spinning red lights and exhaust steam from the pneumatic mechanism. Deep within the doors of the misslebay the alarm resounded its wailing call to the acamedic officials waiting below: the time for K13 had arrived. “Professor, the Angel’s Share ignition chamber has been primed, we are ready for primary,” called one lab technician while looking at a spread of blinking monitors. Professor Blanton looked through the plate glass observation window at his passion, his bete noir for almost a decade. “Blanton, they said that bourbon could not be weaponized. They said that carpet assaults of fermented spirits was a violation of the Geneva Convention. I don’t hear any of them now!” he thought to himself as the mechanized countdown began. The city of Glendale for too long knew nothing of bourbon. Its residents basked in deviant repose, enjoying clear alcohols and neglecting Kentucky exports. “TODAY THEY SHALL FEEL THE STING OF PURE BOURBON RAINING FROM ABOVE! ARM THE k13!” Blanton called to the support staff. A sheet of pure distilled energy cascaded in a vibrant amber wave over the Galleria mall.

Drink .rar Barleywines, Stunt hard.

Drink .rar Barleywines, Stunt hard.