Tag Archives: ghost beer

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Fantome Clos Preal Batch 2, Ghosting Harder than a Terran Nuke

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You ever watch a Megadeth video and have no idea what the fuck is going on? That is kinda what is going on with this fantasm. The ornate packaging is so high handed for the amazing artisinal fantome saisons that you are accustomed to, but you feel special. This was only available in Belgium as far as I know and the hefty 10% abv caught my eye. I love this brewery and this style, so let’s see if Fantome continues to exorcise the dead in today’s review:

Ghosting harder than a Terran nuke.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Bière de Garde | 10.00% ABV

A: This is as fantome as it gets, nice eggshell carbonation that releases the crypt with billowing white foam. The cork is released as willingly as a Mexican parking ticket, with less corruption. The golden hues have a cloudy brassy tone to them that keep things in the saison cut. Black strap you know what that’s for.

At the outset, I am not sure what it is that I am celebrating with this bottle. RIDE THAT GHOST YOU PUSSY.

S: This has a strange waft at first, not the imperial apples and hay that I was expecting, no this beer has gone down a different road altogether. There is some citrus but it is mostly just funk to the max. I am talking incense dealer at Venice Beach levels of funk. There’s this musk that is kinda like the potted plants aisle at Home Depot and a rich acidity on the backend similar to zested lemons.

T: This is incredibly dry from the outset with a pithy citrus aspect to the finish. The bready notes work to mask the abv amiably. This starts going into a strange new realm of non-saison that I am not confident that I agree with. I wanted more of the citrus aspects, but instead I was treated to a fennel extravaganza, pushing fox tails into my gullet. Unless I am getting bullied by some poor Bolivian kid at a Fresno elementary school, I don’t need to eat weeds.

These saison ghosts are the best ghosts.

M: This is drier than your Statistic teacher’s sense of humor and lingers just as long. There’s this acrid assault on the gumline that borders on brackish and even Noel Coward thinks this is a bit salty. As this beer warms the abv starts waking up like a Snorolax and, if you’ve ever woken one of those up, you know shit goes off the rails real quick. There’s this charred wheat aspect that makes an entire 750ml tough to finish to myself, but maybe I was meant to share this. Maybe I shouldn’t be such a selfish asshole maybe?

D: This is too big to bee drinkable, too rare to be opened often, too ornate to take places without people clowning the shit out of you, and if you drank this while working on an IROC Camaro, people would seriously question your political affiliation. This was pretty solid and I love Dany Prignon, but just didn’t knock it out of the park for me. I have heard that Extra Sour is the second coming and resurrection of Ann’s ghost, so I would love to pursue this saison love to its logical conclusion. I will keep you P(gh)OSTED!

This mischievous ghost will hit you when you least expect it

Narrative: The first day of 9th grade was especially trying for Thomas Caraway. Tommy Hilfiger overalls were not only dated, but also a wildy unacceptable fashion decision in a world of waiting derision. “HEY FARMER TOMMY WHY DON’T YOU SU-” He learned to tune them out and calmly stride to Geometry with the cool poise of a 14 year old who just wasted $120.00 of his parents money. It wasn’t that he was a bad kid, he was sweet enough, it was just a question of leadership. He wasn’t a follower, but he set himself out as more of a chairman without a board. Thomas was a bold innovator in a market that abhorred change and friction. He pulled out his iphone and began to ironically play Puddle of Mudd around other kids in the cafeteria, much to their chagrin. When he was sweet, it was irascible, when he was bitter, it went too far. He was a strange kid but, you never could really dislike him for it. However, his bucket hat justifiably got struck in the genitals on not an isolated occasion.

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Fantome Saison, The Original Belgian Incorporeal Gangster Clapping Funky Stacks Like Rack City

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This was the first Fantome that I ever tried and it changed the game for me and saisons. This beer took artistic license and made it clear that old saisons aint nothin to fuck wit. Anyway, I love this brewery, their saisons open up my ghost trap and get my pK meter blasting off the charts. Just don’t cross my streams.

Glassware fail, as usual. I have been pining for a Fantome glass since back when the Fantome ghost was in a corporeal form.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Huge grapefruit juice hues, great tiny bubbles, and archipelago lacing rounds out this beer. It has a solid pineapple and orange juice hue with murkiness to it that enhances the glow. Some people complain about the inconsistent nature of this beer but every. single. bottle that I have ever had of this beer had rocked a serious ghost erection through and through.

The ghost will wreck you and embrace you like Bruce Willis in the 6th sense AT THE SAME TIME.

S: There’s huge Belgian spice, nutmeg, clove, and almost brettanomyces funkiness to it. It almost has a wet cardboard muskiness to it. A bit of tartness on the finish that makes this both complex and interesting. There’s some nice fruits like granny smith apples, white grape, and tangelo. This ghost gets all up in your faceholes.

T: Wow, this is unlike any of the other musky spicey saisons that I have previously encountered. This almost has a wild ale character to it. The initial taste is a sweet biscuity hefe taste with some honey notes, the spices kick in and give it the taste of a tart apple baked good. I love the incredible funky sour finish. It is really impressive for the style and imparts an incredible citrus note at the end. As it warms you get some white grapes and tropical fruits. I could drink this all day long and the abv is hidden like a funk ninja.

I WANT MOER THES SO BAED!

M: It has a great murkiness that expands with a funky wheat tone. The coating isn’t overly aggressive but its has a great wheat profile that expands into a biscuity chewiness. Just like all the other foamy carbonation superbikes, this Fantome imparts a huge foamy peelout that is satisfying.

D: I initially was not a huge fan of this style but I must tip my hat and admit concessions to this amazing saison. I gave this to my girlfriend and she noted that it was “pretty good” which is the equivalent of a gold star on her scale. I could give this to any, single, person and rest assured that he or she would enjoy it immensely. The universal appeal is off the scale. I am perpetually in search of Fantome gems.

Santa knows how to fucking rage it. If you have Fantomes in your fridge, you can rally so hard.

Narrative: Lakitu loved the cloud life. Day in day out, tossing refreshing spined monsters down upon the earth. “HEY THERE OLD LAKITU! STILL RUINING PEOPLE’S SHIT?” Lakitu gave a knowing nod and proceeded to throw a spiked beast from 300 feet shattering the small dry cleaning business below. Some would say “hey lakitu, why not just be a refreshing cloud, you know, water the crops and all?” Maybe for a standard refreshing cloud, but Lakitu was born with bite. His acidic temperament fueled his anger and made it rain, not unlike Yung Dro in an Atlanta strip club; notwithstanding instead of dollars it was hateful monsters showered upon the masses below. Life could be worse, you could be an asshole like that Bullet Bill.