Even since that god damn Barrel Aged Abraxas dropped, people have been losing their shit over this brewery. They make some genuinely awesome beers and their berliners are too legit for any form of quitting. However, like anything else, the hype sometimes outpaces the product and people were stumbling over themselves to nab anything, it was like Sub Pop in the early 90’s putting out all these janky products and people were still buying the grunge shit. Anyway, here’s an overhyped coffee stout that some people have been getting creamer in their jeans over, let’s brew this brah:

The label is dark and metal, the beer is straight Nescafe RIS

Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.50% ABV

A: This pours out not unlike some black coffee with a deep slickness to it, nice khaki head on it that immediately peaces the fuck out. The coating is pretty lackluster and it looks like old Czar Jack in the wateriness department. It turns into a Vente drip almost instantly and chins are rested upon fists forthright.

That’s pretty much what happened to me.

S: This has a huge acidic waft to it of gritty coffee beans the produces a harsh roast with an acrimonious finish. This is not like BCBCS where you are like “ah Tortuga, yeah lime kaffir lime, nice acidity” not like that at all, this just nose fucks you like you used way too much Seattle’s best in a drip batch. If you are stoked for some barrel treatment, keep moving because this has that BA Sexual Chocolate treatment, namely, no barrel waft at all. If you grasp at straws and let this warm up hoping for some vanilla, oak, or something redeeming: be prepared to smell barista musk and more gritty spent grounds.

T: This is coffee forward backward and undercarriaged. There really is nothing else but a huge roasty coffee haymaker that puts you on your ass and leaves you licking the drip brew off your teeth wondering about the chocolate malts, maybe a bit of complexity from the barrel? Too bad, you get cold coffee that gets you pretty dreezed fairly easily. It’s like you keep thinking Jenelle Evans will improve, but its the same one note offputting character that you have come to grimace at.

Thought I was about to be on some coffee radio Rahim shit, it was like Amy Grant small batch brew.

M: This is incredibly thin not unlike Eclipse, but wholly lacking in the barrel complexity. At least when you drink thin ass Eclipse you can nod and go “alright, nice mallow, nice vanilla and oak” but here you just shake your head looking into your tepid black coffee and see your fat double chins staring back up at you, wondering if you can ever get partial custody of your unappreciative children. The acidity just dries the gumline and sits on your teeth like a mocha frap poured into Stone IRS. You know how Kopi Speedway or Bourbon County coffee presents a substantial coffee profile that lingers buttressed by the malts underneath? Well this is like coffee first, stout second, a distant last place in this two person relay.

D: If you absolutely love South American coffees and highly acidic brews, and generally dislike stouts, you will anomalously love this coffee stout. I drank about 10 oz of this after committing it to the plumbing vortex of trader’s lament. It would be unfair to say that regular Ryan Bros. Speedway Stout is better than this, since personal tastes may vary, but please trade cautiously for this old roustabout. Well shoot, there goes my donation box from Perennial, go blackout and watch an iCarly marathon and start making some good life decisions.

“You probably just don’t like coffee or stouts” solid arguments coming from Twitter on the reg.

Narrative: Dwayne Wade just did not know what to do with himself in the post-season. He kicked the opulent white tiger rug in his gaudy Miami mansion and looked out his 18 foot floor to ceiling windows over the ocean villas. “Sometimes I feel like, maybe balling outrageous is only the tip of how ill D-Wade can bring it,” he thought to himself. He walked across the imported marble foyer and remembered a smoking hot Suicide Girl barista that he used to bone and nodded to himself, he would be the world’s most ballerest barista. Problem was, D-wade was too fucking big to fit in standard barista operations. His brash coordination was not the same employed in the brewing of small roast batches. Thrice he pounded the espresso machine and broke the handle while frothing the fuck out of some milk. He was skilled in many things, but he would ruin the fuck out of your morning cup of joe. Just before he was fired from “Grounded Buzz!” coffeeshop, Lebron James entered and purposely ordered a depth charge red eye, served as a press with a 2 min shot. D-wade had never faced a coffee dilemma like this since his period of prestigious academia at Marquette University. LeBron gave him a hulking thumbs up as he cast the green apron into the coffee station and slapped a female co-worker on her ass, spilling a substantial amount of Colombian fresh roast on the floor. Ballerest fucking barista ever, shittiest coffee ever.