Back like 9 months ago when Hill Farmstead let people know about their forthcoming beers, there was a smattering of beer boners that pumped so hard the earth’s orbit was affected for a single rotation. The idea of a full on sour from Hill Farmstead had people log off of their Gawker websites long enough to fill out their Santa wishlist for this beer. So this beer is named after a continental work of philosophy BUT IS NOT EVEN PRUSSIAN IN EXECUTION. So let’s get a sick n0x pump for this flanders and see how many La Folie’s it’s gonna take to land one of these. ERMAGERD SO MANY LER FERLERS.

Haters be all anti-legomena, tossing wd40 on those rusty ass hoverhands

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Flanders Red Ale | 8.50% ABV

A: This is a deep muddy crimson that takes some serious illumination to bring those classic RUUUBYYYY tones to bear. The carb is dead on and the lacing is like frilly Mormon lingerie, substantial and excessive. It’s more of a flanders mud or a Flanders mahogany than a flanders red, but if we all tried to be Rodenbachs then we would all be driving Nissan Altimas not getting our dicks sucked. What kind of world would that be?

Beernerds just see that black widow logo and cntrl shift N, delete that web history and bust loads over Vermont gems

S: In some Flanders there is an astringent aspect not unlike nail polish that is muddled with cherries. Such is not the case here. There is a bold Malbec/Cabernet aspect here that screams a certain degree of dryness but there is also a kind of plum/raspberry farmers’ market that reminds me a lot of Caracterie Rouge, baller as fuck. It seems more gentle in execution than some of the more tart flanders red classics, but if they just brewed a fucking Red Poppy clone I could just sit on my testicles in a cold plastic chair and skip trading altogether.

T: This from out of the gates is creamy pleasant and raspberry cherry oral sex through and through. The tannins don’t dry out the gumline, the fruit isn’t too jammy, the creaminess is strapped onto a fleshlight by the acidity and nothing gets too out of control at this Flanders orgy. Anyone who distinctly picks out the port is probably full or shit and hasn’t had a ton of port, but I would say the port aspect is more like a black cherry over and above the tawny port aspect. Then again, most people are just full of shit. They say they will be there for your adult circumcision and then you just have to drive yourself home, fucking selfish.

A gentle flanders with imperceptible abv, my face be all like

M: This beer is creamy at the outset but then hits this acidic raspberry dryness akin to Framboise de Amarosa that dries things out. This is like a Ronco food dehydrator that roasts the fuck out of cask oak and leaves you with some cinnamon/fruit dried remains. Think of the most baller Fruit by the Foot with a distinct tartness provided by a perfect vintage of Sour Patch Kids, red 5 variant.

D: This is dry and imparts a certain creaminess that is a bit cloying at room temp, but why are you drinking a Flanders red at 70 degrees you fucking idiot? The finish is clean and washes away with a delicious berry aspect that begs to put your face back down in it and write out the alphabet with your mouth. BECAUSE IF IT TAKES LONGER THAN THAT YOURE DOING IT WRONG.

It is a blend of old, new, and strangely familiar: I LIKE IT.

Narrative: Wesley Jeskerson typed away feverishly on his APPLE II computer while draining artificial fruit drinks into his mouth. The clear plastic twist tops were cast around the room like spent shells from a barret .50 cal as he pounded them in succession while typing out his manifesto. “A Polemic Manifesto: Concerning the Ongoings of Squeezits and the Nature of General Mills Intervention.” The document had almost maxed out the 12 megabyte hard drive with its pages and pages of discourse. Some had failed to see the duality of fruit, others accepted pure juice as an inherent maxim of child lunches. “THOSE FUCKING JUICY JUICE WHORES-” Wesley clenched his jaw and pounded feverishly his final pleas for the fate of his beveage magnum opus. “The palate has an inherently analytic aspect, well beyond the additives, the additives are known only by application of synthetic application, a posteriori concepts. JUDGMENTS OF FRUIT JUICE EXPERIENCE ARE INHERENTLY SYNTHETIC. The pure concept of juice drinks must still be inherently synthetic and not a priori because even Juicy Juice has foundations of sensation based in experience. In expounding upon the limits of cherry profiles, the question is presented: Can Any True Knowledge of Beverages be presented on a Metaphysical Level?” Wesley laughed out loud and drained his glass of 1997 Chateau Margaux. The executives at General Mills were about to get a fucking earful, he had finally identified the Zeitgeist Ecto Cooler and presented the metaphysical inquiry of plastic juice bottle substitutes.