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Jester King DUAL WINO Shootout: Both them Grapes About to Get they First Crush, JUICY -BAL MACERATION.

Well with Jester King’s completely odd “profit-based” decision to sell the majority of their product at the brewery itself, the demand for those Texan farmhouse oil salesmen has increased markedly. How can I appreciate these beers if they aren’t just sitting in Whole Foods anymore? JEEZ.

Their fruited wild ales, not unlike my milkshake, serve to bring all the mouth breathing boys to the yard. It is such sweet irony that their equally compelling 750ml offerings are often overlooked by consumers not worthy of their embraces. In between the hyped and marginalized lies the Jester King middle class: the grapey wino offerings. A typical sweaty Austin dipshit with bbq sauce slathered in his goatee and Underarmor t shirt eschews wines. In their eyes, wine is a free beverage at weddings or a natural fuel for petulant divorcees. Wine-structured beers always create this tenor of wariness.

For this reason Cerveza de Tempranillo was criminally passed over and only now are these husky Lands End wearing outdoor enthusiasts discovering the majesty of the grape.

I identify my fruits by their corresponding otter pop color.  That's the only way I know.

I identify my fruits by their corresponding otter pop color. That’s the only way I know.

Today we have two top tier winey grappa syrahesquey tannic adventures. I might even get to use the word deflocculated while running the grid. STR8 SOMMED BRUH.

Biere De Syrah, Jester King

7.2% abv, a saison cum de wild ale, essentially

“A barrel-aged sour beer refermented with Syrah grapes. Bière de Syrah consists of a blend of beer fermented in oak barrels for nine to twelve months with our mixed culture of brewers yeast and native yeast and bacteria harvested from the air and wildflowers around our brewery. The blend was then refermented with Syrah grapes for about two weeks, transferred off of the fruit, then aged for an additional nine months in oak barrels. After packaging, the beer naturally conditioned for an additional two months prior to release. Altogether, Bière de Syrah is roughly two years old.

Biere de syrah comes right out of the gates with a radiant juicy magenta hue to it like a winter sunset. The pink foam whips like a broken cotton candy machine and the carb sits proudly like housing insulation, except less cancer. For some reason, this particular shade makes grown men ovulate like they are picking out nursery color schemes. They can see tastes, I guess.

oh shit so deflocculated

oh shit so deflocculated

The nose has a distinctly vinous character but travels all over the realm of skins and farmers markets. Beyond the syrah you get a dash of pinot noir, dryness of currant, this acidity tartness of ripe plum and even a nectarine closer from the acidity. It is far better than expected and uses an unlikely platform to deliver a first crush from its pulpit.

The acidity on the nose gave me pause but thankfully the mineral character at the outset offset the sheer ph of the entire experience. In the way that the composite profile of an ipa can offset a sky high ibu, the oak and lingering dryness of the grape tannins underlines a well rounded entirely crushable experience. I enjoyed this more than many of the “more touted” fruited JK wilds if only due to the way it grips the oak bannister at the fruit debutante ball with a violet gown draping the floor with elegance.  Shit is mad classy, open this at Olive Garden and watch the dental hygienists swoon.

Binder drawing tier 10/10

Binder drawing tier 10/10

Absolutely lock this one down as soon as possible

Jester King Biere de Blanc Du Bois

6.7% abv, wild ale, no saisons on this one, no way.

Bière De Blanc du Bois was brewed with Hill Country well water, barley, wheat, and hops. It was fermented with our unique mixed culture of microorganisms, which includes farmhouse yeasts, naturally occurring wild yeasts harvested from our air and land in the Texas Hill Country, and native souring bacteria. After extended fermentation and maturation in oak barrels, it was refermented with Texas-grown Blanc du Bois grapes. Bière De Blanc du Bois is 6.7% alcohol by volume, 3.2 pH, and has a finishing gravity of 1.004 (1.0 degree Plato). It is unfiltered, unpasteurized, and 100% naturally conditioned. The artwork for Bière De Blanc du Bois was created by our in-house artist Josh Cockrell.”

putting that Jack LaLanne juicer to work

putting that Jack LaLanne juicer to work

The biere du blanc du bois aka that bdbdbdbdbdbbdbdb leaves more to be desired in its simplistic, highly acidic aplomb. It is admittedly beautiful and radiant in the glass with wispy frothy carb that not only defeats the tartness below but continually sheets and shines like a glowstick at Hard or EDC, the beats perpetually drop.

This exhibits very little wine character and even the grape aspects are shy and hardly peek out from the oak curtains. Cyber sex protip: “oak curtains” is the least sexy vaginal euphemism possible. The nose is a blast of tangerine, lemon, muddled grapefruit, honeydew and a touch of Riesling sweetness.  It is relentlessly bright but also a touch offputting in the unbalanced Noel Coward dryness of the performance. Go ahead and Google “NOEL COWARD” I will wait.  People complain about the lack of depth in DDB references and think this shit is all Worldstar and Squaresoft, you ungrateful fucks, about to David Foster Wallace these tickin ass ratchets.

Let me loosen up them buttons baby, show me what them grapes can do to me

Let me loosen up them buttons baby, show me what them grapes can do to me

For a truly great comedic or wild ale performance there must be grounding upon which to predicate the extreme aspects, otherwise the whole thing goes to Crazy Town faster than you can say “butterfly.” That is where the bdbdbdbd suffers most. In seeking to provide a radiant light diaphanous performance of Chardonnay refreshment, the acidity and bone dry oak dominate. Instead of being a magnificent grapey adventure, we are left with something closer to beatification albeit lacking the yeasty complexity.  If you Monistat the Beatification, all you are left with is acidic discharge: NO ONE WANTS THAT.

It is an instance where Jester King lamentably must live up to their own catalog and arent given any easy passes as a result. If someone like Half Acre made this without any fanfare, it would be the greatest sour the midwest had seen this side of VSB; but their own pedigree infects expectations like a sour mash. So in sum, it is a tasty serviceable sour that would be the pinnacle of anyone else’s catalog, but them Extract boys with their fancy barrel fermenting and puncheons and actual farmhouse have painted expectations into a corner and now must lie in the same doghouse that them Hill boys suffer through: every release must be a revelation. If cd12 and Ambree aren’t an outright grand slam, pepperoni nips get chafed.  If your consumers predicate their self value on bottles of fermented grain, be sure that they base their feelings of intellectual superiority on pointing out shortcomings,  Working at Cici’s Pizza doesn’t exactly give them the earthly Muse to validate their pursuits.

WELP NOW I KNOW WHAT MY FIRST JAILHOUSE TATTOO IS GONNA LOOK LIKE

WELP NOW I KNOW WHAT MY FIRST JAILHOUSE TATTOO IS GONNA LOOK LIKE

Seek out biere de syrah, but obligingly accept a pour of bdbdbdbdb, then continue to act like an expert in all things monoculture despite the fact that you got a B- in high school biology because the Krebs citric acid cycle was just too hard and what the fuck is ATP anyway, amirite. Strap on those husky cargo shorts and call Ddb a sellout while driving your stepdad to the latest adjunct stout release. You’re a master of the internet and your palate is infallible.

Business as usual.

UR FUKN WELCOME, DDB: JUMPING SHARKS SINCE 2010

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Avery Recolte Sauvage, Oscar Wilde Ale, It is Tart; but Sassier

Avery keeps rolling out these batches of tiny, super-esoteric batches of beer that people rate extremely highly and I feel like that fat kid pressing his face to the bakery window, just looming on the sweet treats foreboding inside. Finally a friend hooked me up and I gave some Kern River goodness and both parties had tasted the rockies, respectively. This is a beer aged with Cabernet Sauvignon Grapes and then aged in Cabernet Sauvignon barrels. Basically…wine.

An immature palate wanders into the world of wine reviews...


Avery, Recolte Sauvage, Barrel Aged Wild Ale, 11% abv

A: This seriously looks exactly like Juicy Juice. Just straight up grape juice from concentrate. I guess I could make a parallel to some Merlots but really, it looks like a deep purple, no maltiness or carbination, just juice through and through, like Tupac.

There seems to be a bit of a scheme going on here to dupe the beer consumer. Maybe I am the only one.

S: The waft is of a tannic astringency, it goes to the black cherry, then dark grape varietal and lands on an acetyl tartness at the end. It reminds me of a Consecration whose balls have been pressed fully to the wall. If you prefer your testicles wall-mounted, I have a beer for you.

T: Looks like a duck, smells like a duck, wait for it. . .tastes exactly like wine. like a beer that was made with grapes, very little malt and then aged in wine barrels without yeast. Seriously, this is basically a wine with a mild bread profile. I don’t like being tricked into being a mediocre 30 something talking about Nurse Jackie episodes. This shit went Cougartown really quickly. It has a huge acerbic finish not in the cool “oh like a Cantillon St. Lamvinus?” no, like drinking a straight up glass of Kendall Jackson Cab. I look at my one time friend, the beer looking all entreating, tricking me with its vinous foul play.

Above: one of the best RPG's of all time, if you ask me to list the best wines ever, I am at a loss unless Sephiroth is involved.

M: Have you ever tasted Cabernet Sauvignon? Well, shake it up a bit to gain some bubbles and there you go. This is literally 80% wine and 20% hateful potation. The entire glass has a deep violet hue, there’s no lacing, I am way out of my territory here and I fear wineblogs are closing in, airlock is opening, if anyone reads this space station message, just tell them, I have always hated wine. . .in every…way…

D: Well again, this is determined by the nature of your very existence. I feel like I am trapped at an educational mixer with the traditional red wines, those chuckles and heel rocking with the effusive gestures. It is a perpetual “cool” PTA meeting with the notes of tannins that dry a bit and I COULD drink a lot of this, but moreover, I dont want to. It isn’t because it is bad, far from this, it is well executed but…I have the palate of a 21 year old boy. If you give me nice things I will bury them and spike stock certificates in the ground and eat Kraft Macaroni. It is my own shortcoming, not this beer’s.

Ultimately, I have ran out of arguments against wine so I shelter myself with beer to appear more intellectual. This has never happened before.

Narrative: Janice Roth was a recent divorcee, proud in demeanor, light in expression lines, stern in demeanor. Her 6 year-old minx did not trouble her much and she still served respectfully within InGeniDyneDCorp. as a regional semi-vice-personnel overseeing director. A title she held in cold reverence. Janitors would tip their caps in an almost anachronistic reverence of Mrs. Roth and as she piled into her comfy leather highbacked chair she exhaled sharply. “Janey Janey, when did it come to this?” she ruminated to herself as she operated the corkscrew within her desk to open a Chateau Margeaux, not the ’95 the ’96. She sipped the tonic judiciously and looked out the window ingratiatingly upon the foot traffic below. “The man you loved ran away, you have two beautiful girls who adore you, but something feels so wrong-” she knocked the bottle over and watched the crimson liquid gather in stern liquid rivulets. The sum value of her being was collected in this trivial libation. She had been reduced to episodes of the Bachelor and listening to Jason Mraz mixtapes. This was her inherent value after years and years of sacrifice. And then- she gets hit in the crotch or takes a pie in the face to still make this a comedy narrative, right? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? WELL TOO BAD SAD DIVORCEE STORY IS TODAY’S NARRATIVE.