@councilbrewing Beatitude Set ROUND ONE: Mango, Pineapple, Blueberry, no boils, no stems no seeds no sticks

God damnit I am sick of getting messages about this shit already.  Instead of doing a full on cagematch with these, I figured an FAQ format would be better to address these bottles since people have SO. MANY. FUCKING. questions.  Let’s just get into the meat and start braising this osso bucco.

Only three of these are out right now, the other three to follow shortly. Fire up your Dominos pizza app and get in the chill zone

Only three of these are out right now, the other three to follow shortly. Fire up your Dominos pizza app and get in the chill zone

Council Brewing

Fruited American Biere Du Pays with Monocultures Added, 3.8% abv

Mango, Pineapple, Blueberry

I am lazy as fuck, which one is the best so I can supplement my self esteem with a completionist verve, but then not have to try them all?

That’s a strange question, but I will allow it.  I thought mango was the best, followed by pineapple and blueberry following last as the most predictable in execution.  The mango and pineapple have this effervescent quality that crackles with vibrant acidity and hard mineral character like baller ass perrier variants.  The acidity isnt purely lactic nor is it needlessly excoriating.  These are endlessly crushable, to a fault really.  I wanted to take fatter pulls to embrace the paper thin body and bone dry resonance.  It finishes crisp like biting into an Anjou pear and doesn’t linger.  You could destroy the whole set on a weeknight and not need a GI referral in the morning, if we are being completely honest.  The blueberry while having the same appeal of the two, missed the mark in terms of original execution and was more of a table beer version of JK Colour Five, still good but like sex after 9 years of marriage, utterly predictable the positions it puts you in.

What were the releases figures on this first set so I can lowball as hard as possible?

There were 270ish bottles of each variant sold on a silent release during a weekday that sold out in 3 hours.  Two per person were allowed after the 3 per person was getting drilled on like an offshore BP platform.  $14 each. If you want to look like a profiteering asshole, offer up like a single Vanilla Rye for the whole set, I dont give a shit.

Third place, but still a tasty treat.

Third place, but still a tasty treat.

Why Am I So Poor?  Why Do I feel like $14 is Expensive for a 750ml bottle?

You may have been afflicted with DeGardiditis wherein you now feel like any 750ml that costs more than $6 is a complete rip off.  Or you may think you have some homebrewing experience and you immediately point your greasy roll of nickels finger at the 3.8% abv and start mumering “erhm production cosshttts” or something.  This isn’t a second runnings beer, it’s not just a dupont strain and some capri suns squeezed into the brite tank.  I don’t know why you are so miserly, if 14$ is too much for you, maybe take up cloud/bird watching or one of the innumerably cheaper hobbies.

The Carb Looks a Little Low In These Pictures, I Like to Assume Shit-

Those pours were from draft and sat for a few minutes while we talked, you know, that thing you used to do before logging in badges on Untappd like an obsessive self documenting alcoholic.  Those days.  People have told me the carb on the bottles is legit.

This was my favorite, but most people like pineapple more. WHAT DOES OLD DDB KNOW N E WAYZ

This was my favorite, but most people like pineapple more. WHAT DOES OLD DDB KNOW N E WAYZ

What Does the label say, I am bad at Googling, pls.

Beatitude is the French word for bliss which is what we float away on whenever we enjoy this specially brewed beer. Although this Tart Saison is brewed in the historical Wallonian tradition of other low gravity, tart farmhouse ales, the magic happens when our house blend of Brettanomyces, Lactobacillus and Saison yeast throw an out-of-this-world party in our fermenters. Aged  on various fruits and bottled with precision and care – this yields a beer with a lacto forward nose, an intensely tart fruit flavor, a doughy complexity from our no-boil process, and takes the word “refreshing” to a whole new level.”  There you go.

When Do The Next Three Deviants Come Out So I Can Do Some Demonstrative Shit Like Opening All Six in My Backyard to Impress My Yu Gi Oh Friends?
Probably in like four weeks, I have no idea.  I have sand dollar nipples and a wordpress site, the fuck do I know.

Hey I read everything you wrote but I am still going to message you and ask for your REAL OPINION is that ok would that be good for you DDB?

I fucking hate this so much.

A pour of that size is not long for this world.

A pour of that size is not long for this world.

My Friend is a certified beer server and he said because of the ABV these are actually berliners

That wasn’t a question but please, just shut the fuck up.  You have no idea what you are talking about.  Let’s get this out of the way: these do not taste like saisons.  Sure they have a low abv and are fruited but these are not berliners either.  Look at the yeast strains, how in the fuck could you consider these berliners? Due to the no boil (they bring the temp up to 180 degrees, they dont just shake it in a sack with some DME) this has some residual grist to the swallow but again, its hard to pick out because these are POST MENOPAUSAL OSTEOPEROSIS BONE DRY. My best characterization would be “American Fruited Biere Du Pays with monocultures added” which I can only assume will be a GABF category next year.

I usually just read to the bottom of the things you say and look at the pictures, so should i get these seriously tho?

If you can only get one, most people like Pineapple the most, and yes you really should try it.  There is not a clear analogue in my mind for someone doing things in quite this way and its not fair to really compare them to De Garde beers across the board either.  These are really fucking tasty and OH NO YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO SHARE THEM TWELVE WAYS. Holy fuck imagine drinking a whole 3.8% 750ml to yourself, wow 2015 is a bold new year.


New Glarus R&D Very Sour Blackberry, V.S.B. PO PPA, no info for the D.E.A.

If you give the midwest a brewery only release, prepare for some hyperventilating from a cadre of ex-bandos. Whenever this happens, neckbeards jump in their Chevy Aveos and drive hours across bleak terrain that looks like it is north of the wall, all to secure some bottles. This happened with Fuzzy, this happened with Cahutlow, this happened with BA Abraxas, this happened with KBBS, and god help us if the bottle count is in that ultra rare 2000 or less range.

Enter VSB, an american wild ale with a story to tell, berries to flex, and a proud lineage rolling deep like an MC Hammer entourage. At a staggering $8 a bottle and 3 per person staggered over 3 days, you would figure this should trade for what, Double Huna? Flora? GUESS AGAIN AND GIVE ME YOUR CCK MOTHERFUCKER. The trade threads for this went to hell in a handbasket real quickly and honestly, if Secretpizza didn’t send this ratchet bitch to me for free, I don’t think I would have bothered throwing my hat in the ring. Whenever you see an Illinois dipshit posting things like “I only have 3 left but, I don’t think I would ever trade it, it is that good, unless something really good came along” you know shit just got real.

So thanks to Secretpizza for keeping my butthole intact and allowing me to get my berries juiced in today’s review.

Pour this bottle and it looks like the inside of a Claire's or a Wet Seal.

Pour this bottle and it looks like the inside of a Claire’s or a Wet Seal.

New Glarus Brewing Company
Wisconsin, United States

Style | ABV
American Wild Ale | 5.00% ABV

Notes/Commercial Description:
Fourth in our series of spontaneous sour ales. Fermented and aged in oak barrels – on yeast lees – with Oregon blackberries. Refermented in this bottle. Open with care – This is a funky wild sour beer! There is also a bunch of illegible shit on the label I welcome you to try and read.

A: Just look at this fuchsia madness taking place above, it looks like a tween’s bedroom and only needs some chartreuse inflatable furniture to hit full on third grade sleepover status. The carb ranges from hilarious to excessive and doesn’t even burn off as exceedingly quickly as you would anticipate. The hue looks like St. Lam’s viscous cousin, deep thick grape Otterpop, that velvet violet merging with purpiest of purps. It is admittedly a very pretty beer and looks great sprayed on the hood of a Bugatti. Ball the fuck out already.

VSB for 50n? Wait hold on-

VSB for 50n? Wait hold on-

S: This presents more of a jammy countenance that the previous R&D endeavors would have led me to believe. There is a smuckers grape jelly, blackberry tannins, no cloying artifical sweetness and you get the crushed fields and farmer’s market kisses at the outset. Another interesting thing is, for all this VERY SOUR CUP YOUR BALLS talk on the label, it doesn’t smell intensely sour. It exhibits an incredible balance in form an execution, terroir from the berries, but a substantial complexity from the sharp shocktart back end. Can’t even front, it smells phenomenal.

T: This leads with a sharp acidity that immediately is pushed aside to convey a deep berry character, purple gushers, blackberry preserves, razzleberry pie, and this light dryness on the finish. This beer isn’t overly sour, it isn’t overly sweet, it isn’t intensely acidic, and it doesn’t go for an artificial heavy handed approach with adjuncts: IT JUST DOES EVERYTHING RIGHT. This is essentially a deep purple M3, a product that is so well balanced and highly revered that the biggest dipshits in the world covet them and it ruins the experience for you. I am fairly confident that this beer is not yet a staple in Persian bottle service culture, but soon.

If you decide to trade for this, be cautious: this pretty little beer can be a total asshole

If you decide to trade for this, be cautious: this pretty little beer can be a total asshole

M: This is not your daddy’s intensely drying Upland Lambic, it isn’t your momma’s one dimensional lactic Cascade, it lacks the sticky sweetness of the other cloying New Glarus fruit beers: it goes in hard. It provides tartness with a sticky resonance that steps in graceful time in a berry 3/4 scherzo. Usually I would toss my hater hat in the ring and pipe up with some shit like “BUT YOU CAN JUST GET St. LAMVINUS FOR LESS” but I don’t even know if that is accurate. This is distinctively American and seems to supercede the fruited lambic offerings that would be analogous. American Wild Ales are a genre born on derivative inspiration and this is the clearest example, second to Cable Car Kriek, of an AWA that is a genre defining beer. Place this next to batch 1 Persica 750ml and a short list of exceptional American sours. This that shit you need to learn though, that VSB, shit that makes your cellar burn slow.

D: This is intensely drinkable and the impossibility of obtaining one of these makes this entire appraisal laughable. I could drink several of these linked together like a chain wallet on some purple JNCO jeans. You could serve this to anyone, your lady friend who uses “supes” and “gorg” nonironically, or a confused young minor seeking your help. Everyone will get their mouth on this purple throbber. Wipe the juice from your chin and seek this out if you feel like it, but realistically, just drink Almanac Blackberry sour, it is verrrrry close, but not quite as good. Think like 09 BCBS Bomber to Rare levels of comparability. All in all, an otherworldly beer of staggering quality in almost every way.

Midwest coveting, ruining things for the rest of McDonaldland

Midwest coveting, ruining things for the rest of McDonaldland

Narrative: Grimace was misunderstood in Mcdonaldland from his very origin. He first appeared and swung his berry endomorphic frame, gripping the milkshakes of others, being a covetous monster. It was not his blackberry breath or his radiant violet hues, it was his offputting nature and unendingly sweet nature. It wasn’t his fault that he was overweight, he spawned that way in a land that no one wished for. A landlocked zone of purple obesity and hate could hardly beget the nicest of creatures, but Grimace rose above. Grimace had an unnamed mom, an unnamed dad, a grandma named “Winky”, a great-great grandma named Jenny Grimace, and might have had a brother named “King John Bailey”, who was the king of all Grimaces: BUT NO ONE GAVE A SINGLE FUCK. In the muck and mire of mediocrity and imitation, Grimace transcended the monster genre and became something sweet and sour at the same time. He was a gentle creature capable of deep destruction, but checked his privilege at the door and bumbled around lovingly. “YOU KNOCKED OVER MY ARCH DELUXE YOU FAT FUCK-” one patron would exclaim, but deep in this sticky sour heart, Grimace knew that he was worth more than those that surrounded him.


Southampton Black Raspberry Lambic, The coveted 5 letter acronym: SHBRL, unkillable 5 syllable

Alright, another highly sought out 400 bottle release? Business as fucking usual on DDB. After you finish reading these reviews I expect you to go back to other beer blogs with your prolapsed ticker anoos in hand like a tiny pink sock. Everyone loses their shit over this beer, offering massive combos for it, then saying “WELL I WOULD RATHER HAVE SAINT LAMVINUS” when they can’t land it. It is as immutable as the changing of the seasons, butthurt tickers bring the color to the leaves.

New York traders usually give a fair approximation of things since they usually have to drive 6 hours to brewery releases, so what happens when there’s something actually within their state? Does it ball the fuck out with those red bottoms clacking on the Berry Pole? We shall see.


Thanks a lot ONLY VOID.

Southampton Publick House
New York, United States
American Wild Ale | 6.00% ABV

A: Oh shit, not only is there bubbling jelly in your veins upon seeing that picture, but the beer itself is straight up boysenbeery [sic] magenta. File this with those other Lisa Frank beers from Crooked Stave, those banging berry tones, lookin all like a baller ass wine cooler. The foam is mild and crackles away like your bank account at a Slashfiction convention, leaving little behind but sadness. The crazy purple/fuchsia tones borderline on Robey, but don’t fucking say it.

This shit will drop bombs on other fruited sours

This shit will drop bombs on other fruited sours

S: This is like walking through a Farmer’s Market holding your same-sex lover’s hand taking in the perfect wafts of berries, ripe spring bounty, and redolent with raspberry/blackberry tannins. Nana is leaving the pies to cool in the windowsill, and she used super acidic berries in case you decide to get your Gary Soto on and jack those bitches. There is a depth to this that reminds me of the Funky Buddha Berliners (“oh, those 35 bottle releases everyone got to try, thanks for the descriptor, asshole.”) If you enjoy the waft of CREME FRAICHE ROSE DE GAMBRIUS, this is the purple drank variant with a bit more black cherry and merlot tannins going on beyond just a raspberry, a nice spin on the traditional Fremboisey.

T: I started this bad bitch really cold to see if it had that classic 1 note acidity and, TO MY SURPRISE, still had quite a depth to the tannins and merlot aspects on the frontend, nice oaky produce feel to it that dries endlessly. The real boxer-dropper is when this thing warms up a bit and starts getting heavy handed with that berry, jammy, sticky icky, pie filling meet american wild acidity that is crazy satisfying. Unlike most American Wilds, which can be as one dimensional as a Florida State Communications major, this actually has a lil musk peeking through, something beyond adjunct overload or acid overkill. FUCKING BALANCE IN AN AMERICAN WILD WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING. But seriously, very well done, crushable for days and wont give you upper GI problems like Upland’s acidic extravaganza offerings. This is a vast improvement over those, admittedly very solid, offerings. It is just really fucking tasty across the spectrum, punshing you with a whip gently making you want more, you sissypalate, you like that huh, lick those berry boots, SUB.

I hope you RSVPed to the sticky berry cuddle sesh, bring your footie berry PJs

I hope you RSVPed to the sticky berry cuddle sesh, bring your footie berry PJs

M: This has a crazy prickliness to it that crackles like fruit pebbles in acidic milk, each sip has this blasting Fanta aspect to it that isn’t exactly an expansive carbonic acid profile, it’s more like a raspberry alka seltzer that cracks and pops along the gumline, pushing that fruit waft to huffing levels. It doesn’t look like a gusher, but it just pumps that C02 in the middle where your face hole is wanting. Also, this thing can really dry your sockets out, bring liver lube like water/old ales to grease your gears. Don’t run your internal components too hard.

D: This is incredibly crushable and the only real limiting factor, other than the fact that is sells for fucking $300 on MBC is that it can be a bit drying if you take a whole bottle to your face. LOL YA RIGHT UR NEVR GONNA DO THAT. But more importantly: CAN I BE A CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE AND STATE THAT ST LAM IS BETTER IN A DISMISSIVE FASHION. Yes and no, if you like being a presumptive prick, St. Lam is equally good but not the same thing. This is something totally different and worth ticking, highly recommended.

Ticking top tier AWA with legit pours, reported: no idea what I am doing.

Ticking top tier AWA with legit pours, reported: no idea what I am doing.

Narrative: Sheila and Michael had exhausted the gamut of sexually deviant practices to restart their marriage, last Tuesday’s PRODUCE-PLAY was a bit too much for Sheila. “Something about it was unsettling Michael, you know?” Sheila stated as she thumbed the rim of her latte. “What? Oh, the whole boysenberries on my perineum? That was too far? WELL EXCUSE ME I DIDNT KNOW I SIGNED UP FOR A LIFE WITH A LATTER DAY SAINT!” Michael exploded with guests onlooking. Sheila could still taste the Cabernet she gulped prior to give her courage to engage in intercourse with her face in a bowl of blackberries. “Michael, I almost asphyxiated on fruit, it was dangerous,” she added remonstratively while avoiding his glance. “Love isn’t about smashing raspberries all over my breasts. That isn’t love Michael, I think we need to go to a new therapist, one that doesn’t suggest berry sex. No more berry sex Michael.” Michael shook his head ruefully just thinking of all the wasted produce that he had already purchased. His dreams were crushed and preserved concurrently.


@hillfarmstead Double Barrel Damon, Putting Damons on my Damons Even My Damons Got Damons so you can Damon while you Damon

What do you get when you take regular ass world class DAMON and then pump up the jams with a SECOND FUCKING BARREL. Tickers lose their shit, that’s what.

Alright, so 50 people got these in the collected works and then….no one reviewed it. Alright a few people did, but it was conspicuously absent from review sites until the big release went down 6 weeks ago, resulting in pages upon pages of fanfare, butthurt, conspiracies, and other things attendant with beer releases these days. When the dust settled, we were left with a 189 (?) bottle, $35 release. The DoWant pulsing hard in them lower abs.

I think it is safe to say that this beer was the most sought out and anticipated beer release in the past year from Hill Farmstead, but how does it stack up to the already-stellar Damon? You can’t get more than one rock hard boner, there’s like, no such thing as a double boner. Right? Anyway, let’s get up in the guts and see if all the crestfallen tickers listening to Evanescence have reason to mourn their inability to tick this elusive beast.

Black hat, black shades, double barrel black stouts, oh behave.

Black hat, black shades, double barrel black stouts, oh behave.

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Russian Imperial Stout | ABV ?

A: This sits and languishes out of the bottle like cajoling a second grader to get ready for school. There is a certain tempestuousness to the light crackle of mocha foam that quickly subsides and sits down to eat its cocoa puffs, unconcerned with learning cursive or long division. The lacing is insubstantial likely due to the generous sheeting on the glass that lets you know that this beer did hard time in the barrel SHU, carving wood shivs, plotting revenge. I will say, I miss the coats and coats of wax like on the previous version of Damon, but if you lay this down without trying it, you probably don’t deserve this beer in the first place. The picture above might not make sense since most of the one other time I have seen a picture of this beer it has been a 50ml medical dosage, the legit pour evidences the sheer power and menacing stature that this bete noir imparts indefatigably.

There are two very pronounced aspects to this beer, I wont blame you if you can only focus on one.

There are two very pronounced aspects to this beer, I wont blame you if you can only focus on one.

S: This is easily the most complicated olfactory profile that HF has produced this side of MC2. I will attempt to pull apart these strata of eros, this is a complicated moshpit of aromas and chocolatey decadence. The first thing that stands out is a deep red wine tannic profile like an oaky merlot that is buttressed by that expensive ass 82% cacao at the register at Whole Foods. You get a light char but the affair leans more to the sweeter side of things, like a halfway house in between MC1 and MC2, more decadent than the former but not as substantial as the latter. The bourbon seems to be the relief pitcher not the closer, providing a fleeting vanilla aspect. The port seems unquestionably the dominant force in this Romulus Remus cagematch, which is great considering the premium placed on landing this over Bourbon Damon.

T: The olfactory was hard enough to convey and the cascading tastes elbowdrop off the high ropes like Summer Slam. At the outset is a red grape dryness cum de tannic tartness, but the chocolatey Pinkerton gang starts cracking heads shortly, only to be whisked away by a very light bourbon/coconut/oakiness. If you have ever listened to The Locusts and been blown away with a swift 30 second barrage of tastes, you will understand how difficult this is to convey accurately. The wine/port aspects again seem to dominate the roasty/chocolatey/bourbon aspects, but it’s more of a 70/30 co-dominance with oakiness being the underpinnings to the undulating flavors. You can’t really be doing shit else if you want to capture all the aspects of this beer because if you have this too cold or while watching Duck Dynasty, you might zone out and miss the delicate profiles that you shelled out so much to try. It’s like renting a $3,000 escort when you have the flu, save it for when you can reach full completion.

Follow your dreams: if you want a DBD, don't give up.  Keep offerings that same bottle of Huna.  Just takes the right set of eyes, dream big, never hurts to ask rite

Follow your dreams: if you want a DBD, don’t give up. Keep offerings that same bottle of Huna. Just takes the right set of eyes, dream big, never hurts to ask rite

M: This is lighter than Damon and the dryness from the oak character seems to underscore this trait. This is no underattenuated/brownie batter fest, the beer has been massaged into post-menopausal refinement with that port dryness along the gumline and the bourbon wafts tossing up barricades along the bittering zones. Personally, I felt that the competition between the two elements was dissonant almost and preferred the straightforward Bourbon Damon execution in this regard, but I have a short attention span and hate nice things. I eat Kid Cuisines and subscribe to Esquire magazine.

D: Given the foregoing complexity, you take drinks faster and try to dial in what is going on but it takes a solid 5oz just to figure out what goes where. Also, this beer completely changes over the course of 10 degrees so if you like that bourbon roastiness at 55 degrees, wait until you hit low 60s and that port starts stretching its lazy Portugese legs all over your Z Gallerie couch, gurgling out that sonorous language of tannins and Cabernet exploits. It is a shame that this is offered in a small format as it really evolves in temps and in between drinks, something that may be lost on the traditional 32 person .5 oz ballers so common in modern parlance. This is a drastically different beer than Bourbon Damon, more refined, it subscribes to Dupont Registry and Cigar Afficionado and has little in common with brash Derk Lerd plebians. To some, that will be offputting. If you like an adjunct fuck fest with chiles and vanilla beans and scorching bourbon character, don’t worry: Goose Island drops their new shit this month.

Open this at a bottle share, tickers be rolling to your table like "wantapourofthisNewGlarussssss"

Open this at a bottle share, tickers be rolling to your table like “wantapourofthisNewGlarussssss”

Narrative: It was a duplicitous life that Damonick led. By day he was Dom, a prim and proper horticulturist advising local agrarians on a litany of nuanced subjects: soil temp, nitrate fixation, turgor pressure. By night he was Nick, a decadent MDMA using throat in a local post hardcore band. He lived a relentless life and almost never slept. It was this duality that allowed him to live twice the lives that normal people would embrace. One Tuesday night Nuck skulled several bottles of Scarecrow Cab and woke up at 6am with burgundy red teeth and a searing headache, much to Dom’s chagrin. It was a rough, complicated life full of multifaceted fulfillment. Some would counsel Damonick and plead with him to give up the rough hewn night life full of debauchery and bacchanalian exploits, but to do so would be to debase Damonick into a simpler entity. It was the complexity and robust lifestyle that Damonick sought most heartily, that was one thing he couldn’t expect a one-dimensional personality to apprehend.


Toppling Goliath Mornin’ Delight, My Motto’s Always Been When It’s Right It’s Right

Alright, we have heard enough about hyped beers that AREN’T worth a reluctant hj, but what about those hyped releases that are downright amazing. The kind that after you have them you go through a moment of clarity and the conflict subsides and you nod your head in cool reverence and renew your subscription to Bang Bus. What about those beers? This is one such beer. I know I grind the testicles of poor flyover states to no end, but this is the real deal Holyfield, now it is only fitting that let tickers and traders know how I feel.

Mornin Delight Straight Givin Beer Nerds Dat Morning Wood

Mornin Delight Straight Givin Beer Nerds Dat Mornin Wood

Toppling Goliath Brewing Company
Iowa, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 12.80% ABV

A: This looks akin to most imperial stouts you are accustomed to, with a mocha khaki foam that wisps away with minimal cling, however, I did drink this 300 bottle rarity in a fucking sundae glass so, your mileage might vary if you aren’t a demonstrative prick. The legs are nice and provide a mahogany cling to the glass, it looks viscous and cracks its knuckles menacingly letting you know that shit in and around the field is about to become real.

maple, coffee, stout, roast; this beer is hard as fuck and YES that is a real stout in the picture maybe you noticed it ok

maple, coffee, stout, roast; this beer is hard as fuck and YES that is a real stout in the picture maybe you noticed it ok

S: This is the waft that hipsters at Imagine Dragons concerts have nocturnal emissions over. You want that kiwi/cherry/lime leaf acidity from some eastward facing fair trade small batch single roast? Is that how daddy likes it? Daddy wants that french press handle dipping low crushing the fuck out of a deep acidity but balanced by a baker’s chocolate roast. It’s like an olfactory phone sex line for coffee addicts. If you have ever passed on sex to set up a vacuum press batch, then you are the type of deviant asshole who would love this. Just world class on the nose from the roast to the bouquet to the deep maple syrup that lingers like the sustained note of a 3 year old child being denied Skittles. The whole experience is magical.

T: This coats hard from the outset like a renegade Nigerian oil pipeline, sheeting your mouth with chocolate, almond joy dunked in Mrs. Buttersworth, there’s a lovely dryness to the coffee profile that ratchets the sweetness in from hitting those cloying Jodie Sweetin levels. How rude indeed. The sticky battle of roast versus decadent maple is like watching your girlfriend argue with your mom and you don’t know who to support. The whole affair is ambrosial and saturnalian like oral sex on a sack of unroasted coffee beans with your favorite IHOP waitress.

This beer is a trill remix of a classic jam.  7/8 time in the trap with sick coffee drops and maple breaks..

This beer is a trill remix of a classic jam. 7/8 time in the trap with sick coffee drops and maple breaks..

M: This coats hard and even the dryness of the coffee cant be an indian giver in this regard. The Indians are giving that sticky icky hard and tagbacks are disallowed along the gumline. It it like if KBS did blood doping but was a bit less complex. This has sick ropey veins pumping maple syrup with a neglected core that begs for bourbon (or cognac would be even better srs) so it’s hard to fault this for that aspect, but I do what I want, sometimes I feed other people’s meters and dont give a fuck. But it’s hard to give this a perfect score because it seems like it is missing that depth and complexity of the barrel treatment. It’s like what that poor fuck who sits in a base Carrera feels like when he knows there’s no forced induction and it should be there. Sure he just banged the hottest Denny’s waitress in the world, but the maple syrup can’t change that fact. Yes I know KBBS exists, no I am not giving up a CFH/Blabaer/Twisted Spoke/etc. for a 12oz bottle of BA Coffee stout. THAT IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE.

D: This beer is outright amazing, but with its costs and drawbacks. It’s like if you have ever fingered a girl and subsequently found out that she is a squirter, the novelty alone would be incredible, but there is a certain drawback to having to get a Nissan Sentra detailed just because she wanted to be adventurous. Alas, I digress. Yes this is amazing, you will tell your friends about it. You might even relive the experience with them. But at the end of the day, you feel a little dirty knowing that it cost a bit too much and that you probably could have waited and gotten something more meaningful.

I would bang this in the morning and right before bed if it were accessible/socially acceptable.

I would bang this in the morning and right before bed if it were accessible/socially acceptable.

Narrative: Scott Wilson didn’t forsee that he would be guidance counseler, in fact, that is the greatest irony of his existence. his father, a doctor, his mother a nobelaureate, and here he was, advising adolescents of their future. “well you certainly need AP Bio…I call that a versatility class…” He sighed under his breath. Even if he was the best at his job, no one would notice. He could direct his students to the perfect universities but never receive a single accolade. Such is the life of a high school administrator. Scott took a deep pull of his thermos and tasted the best cup of coffee that man would ever create. He sighed upon receipt of yet another acceptance letter facsimile from one of his students, a school he never attended, but certainly maintained the ability to embrace. This was not the time to wonder about the past, he would embrace the present knowing that he was perpetually affecting the future. He went home to his microbotanical facility in his basement. He was restricted, withdrawn, so few knew the true genius that he harbored in his calm demeanor. Scott was amazing but the sheer effort it took to reach the depths of his cellar to see his coffee plant/maple tree hybrid was daunting. He popped a budding bean into his mouth and savored the acidity and molasses. “Someday they will see more than just a pile of administrative hassle Scott, someday you will be a household name. THEN WHO WILL IGNORE YOUR MESSAGES ON ZOOSK.COM THEN! NO ONE THAT IS WHO!” he shouted to himself in the basement of his 6br/7ba Iowa home valued at $143,000.00.


@tiredhandsbeer Handfarm, Barrel aged 500 bottle saison releases? This website was made for this kind of shit.

I hope YOUR hands aren’t too tired from stroking it to all these Pennsylvania walez. In today’s review we look at the inimitable Handfarm, a remix portmanteau of farmhands, aged in barrels, waxed and waiting for your touch. If you are new to this site, you might want to read up on Hop Hands before you just go into this review with some dry labias: Here is the cagematch from Saison Marathon yes I know that is a totally different beer. I am putting people up on that Tired Hands tip.

The only thing that can make an awesome saison even more betterer is barrel aging, look what it did to Arthur, took an already good beer to ART beast mode levels. Anyway, so this was a super small release and my balloon knot has been so puckered waiting to put my mouth on this so lets get to it.

God damn this beer is incredible.  In the unlikely event that you missed out on the 180 bottles of Ann, please seek this out.

God damn this beer is incredible. In the unlikely event that you missed out on the 180 bottles of Ann, please seek this out.

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 5.20% ABV

A: No surprises out of the gate here, it looks very similar to Farmhands with a milky sort of pale straw disposition, folding its arms with microbubbles and some will of the wisp lacing regenerating for one black mana on the edges of the glass. MAGIC THE GATHERING JOKES: WE ARE DOING THEM NOW.

A beer this complex and refreshing that clocks in at 5%? They must have leveled their saison specs so hard. DPS for days.

A beer this complex and refreshing that clocks in at 5%? They must have leveled their saison specs so hard. DPS for days.

S: Wow, this reminds me a lot of Ann on the nose with just a huge dry white grape, musk, brett C, a light sweetness like those crescent rolls that people always fight over in commercials, lemon rind, and any candle that is yellow basically (lemon, birthday cake, sunlight, whatever.)

T: This carries more of a floral aspect than I was expecting and it presents a brett c muskiness at the outset that takes me to that vintage Fantome printemps land pretty quickly. There is a ton of complexity in the grain bill, you get sweetness, a light scratchiness as though rye was up in the mix, complicated yeasty profile on the backend that reminds me of banana runts. The yellow ones everyone always be throwing away. Again, this is just incredibly refreshing and the format size and inaccessibility of this beer is almost a complete “fuck you” to anyone without a legit cellar and a Fedex account. I DONT FEEL BAD FOR THEM THEY CAN DRINK HENNEPIN AND FUCK OFF.

This beer is so good, I wish they could just deliver it to my door.

This beer is so good, I wish they could just deliver it to my door.

M: This is dry at the outset because of the barrel and the brett c I would wager, think Seizoen bretta land, but the yeast and complex ass malt bill comes in kicking in doors without a warrant, tagging your mouthwalls up with sweetness, biscuit notes, stick floral potted plants on the gumline. When it leaves you don’t even know where to start, someone just farmfucked your mouth but you dont even fill out a police report because you secretly liked it.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and to say that 500ml is not enough is like dropping my monocle in a glass of 1995 Chateau Margoux and complaining about the dry cleaning bill. Most people will never have this, but this review site is not for most people. Chances are, if you are here you already lost most of your regular friends to the beer game. This site is for fucking lifers, guys with beer shivs tucked under their shitty ikea beds. If you want an incredibly refreshing saison, seek this out. It is both complex and restrained at the same time. It was gone before it even arrived.

Taking barrel aged saisons and comparing them is an art not a science

Taking barrel aged saisons and comparing them is an art not a science

Narrative: Chester Wakely was an average rabbit by any onlooker’s standards. Pronounced bicupsinds, whiskers, nimble, and soft to the touch. He spent his days in a gentle repose amongst the willows and sagebrush, basking in the floral decadence of the springtime sun. Deep down Chester knew that something was different about him. There was a longing complexity to his character that transcended the run of the mill “avoiding predators” and “mating.” Chester would often look across the hills to the Perkinson Vineyard and wonder about those pale yellow grapes lingering on the vine. Those chardonnay casks rolled in and out like the waxing and waning of moons. While he was only 5 lbs and a rabbit, he longed to be get deep into vinification. He lacked opposable thumbs or a developed cortex to execute complex processes, but God damnit, Chester could dream. He would later be hit by a Suzuki Samurai while trying to cross the interstate.

Godspeed, Chester.