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Selin’s Grove IPA, Backwoods Pennsylvania Taking Hops Right to Your Dome Piece

IPA week chugs along with another fantastic draft-only offering. Hell if Taco Bell can do a world class burrito bowl, I figure I can try my hand at rating a world class IPA. Back in yesteryear this was on the top 100 and haunting the top IPAs but it has since subsided into relative anonymity BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN IT ISN’T AMAZING. Let’s get after it in today’s review

Mashing out on growler only gems, on the reg.

Selin’s Grove Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American IPA | 7.00% ABV

A: There is a nice translucence with brassy straw meets gold hues. The carbonation, despite being shipped thousands of miles, is still holding strong and flexes hard with moderate lacing. You might be partial to some off shelf selections, but sometimes you gotta walk in someone else’s liver.

This beer reminds me of simpler IPA times, when Ruination was enough to turn your bitter zones inside out like a Gusher’s commercial.

S: The smell was actually pretty tame and almost went a light honey route with some grassiness and playground romping. There’s a dull lemon rind but nothing really blasting my face off with hop oils. Perhaps there is a precision in execution like a trebuchet, but again, for a world class IPA, I would say Sculpin rustles my jimmies more than this.

T: The taste is even more tame and pops a percocet and slides you a small saucer of light citrus, pale malt, creamy middle body like a baked biscuit with a bitter finish. This isn’t something that makes me lose it, and with a 2 liter serving size, I am positive I got my fair share.

I was expecting the R8 of the IPA world and instead got the A4. Which is still nice, but I don’t see Tony Stark drinking this IPA is all I am saying guize.

M: The mouthfeel is incredibly light and washes away clean. There is a sweetness to it with barely any lingering hops. The dank hop oils might be lingering somewhere in there but it feels more watery and refreshing like an alcoholic’s sports drink more so than a big hop warhead. Maybe I am just too demanding, MAYBE I AM JUST LIKE MY BREWER, he’s never satisfied. This is what it sounds like, when hops cry.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, slick and watery and obliges the dancefloor amiably with a waxed surface of water and pine hops, and that is about it. Consuela has done an expert job pulling off the balance between an impressive IPA and something you can drink at the lake. In the end, nothing I would lose my oils over, just leaves me with blue cones.

This is an amiable delicious IPA that anyone can get their mouth on. However, this gentle demeanor makes it less memorable, even the Mouth of the South would agree.

Narrative: Narrative: “I hate yearbooks” you grit your teeth and attempt to conjure up a page worth of something to commemorate all the good times with. “WHATTT WHO HATES YEARBOOKS, TYLER JUST WRITE WHAT YOU FEEL!” You know that Geometry was fun, that the pranks were the best, but what do you say to a person in a single yearbook page to sum up all the good times? How do you commemorate the fading visions of the past? Suddenly it clicks and your pen cannot keep up with your Dostoyevskian insight, eevery phrase parsed perfectly, with Hemingway precision, terse but fantastically executed, insightful self referential quotes fold into themselves like mitochondrial membranes, you scribble out your signature and hand it to her. “You wrote ‘I cant believe that they closed Hot N’ Now’? And then signed it with someone elses name? What does this mean Tyler?” She doesn’t get it, you flip your aviators and walk away, you are too bad ass for memories, too bad ass for yearbooks, and you sure don’t need to spend your life living on a semiglossy page. You are Tyler and you live in the moment. The smell of the IROC tires lingered in the air, peppering the masses for effect.

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Bear Republic Racer X, My X Racer Took All of My Staind CDs.

This beer has FINALLY been bottled, after many requests but then they go and don’t ship it outside of the bay area, so oh well for the rest of us UNLESS YOU GOT MAD SOLDIERS IN THE TRAP SHORTY. I once bought a growler of this and the girl serving it told me that it would hold up well over time because there are a lot of hops in it and hops are used to preserve beer. It was the most clear example of fail I have encountered in the field.

This beer is completely Racerist.

Bear Republic, Racer X Double IPA, 8.XX% abv (not looking it up, bottle is in the trash)

A: This beer has a nice amber hue to it with deep orange like that sunset you watched after seeing Human Centipede, special moment. The carbonation is fair, nothing to get tatted on your body but doesn’t leave you wanting. The jets are set to low on the lacing and she’s wearing a one piece. A tame affair.

Me and all my pimp ass friends used to drink this up in Healdsberg and pull so many bitches.

S: There’s an awesome honey and apricot zest to this that brings a radical pineapple closer. The relief pitcher has notes of some light grassiness but the nose is just phenomenal, real spit.

T: The taste is a bit more herbal and medicinal than the exemplary nose would suggest, but it’s still very refreshing. The herbal note subsides into a mild sweetness and the whole ruse about citrus just exits through the gift shop. Overall, the taste is a middle class worker in a Michael Kors ensemble. I hate it when that happens.

Just reviewing another amazing, rare beer, U mad.

M: The mouthfeel is crisp and light and nails it for the style. The bottle says this beer is all about balance and I would say that’s pretty accurate, the maltiness doesn’t press its balls on or around the wall, but the hops don’t really use overdrive either. Everyone is getting good gas mileage in the number 3 lane. The coating is gentle and the carbonation doesn’t overpower things.

D: Aside from this weird Jasmine/floral note at the end, this is pretty smooth sailing considering the ABV and profile of the hops. For all the Lindy Hopping that the east coast does to their “balanced” approach, this nails it with much more clarity. It’s like Rosie O Donnell at a bisexual bridal shower. The bottle was gone pretty quickly and I am glad they finally decided to make some serious COIN by bottling up this extreme Racerist.

I told Bear Republic they could bottle anything. They finally followed my dreams.

Narrative: “What the, oh come on, she’s entering the Nestle Cup? Come on!” the judges looked onward at Thomas Dillery’s frustration. Kaitlyn knew that this race meant so much to him, but apparently he didn’t care about that or her hopes and her wants. “Listen, we broke up ok? You don’t need to stalk me and enter every heat and semi-pro circuit to garner my attention, give it up,” Thomas stated entreatingly. She pushed her hefty size 14 backside within the confines of the racing cage and quipped “well maybe if you spent less time focusing on Jimmy Johnson and cared to address my needs, we wouldn’t be in this situation, and I know what you are going to say, the cabin incident notwithstanding, you have always had communication problems.” She strapped her Marlboro helmet on and began priming the engine. “I am competing today and I will do it with the poise and grace that I held when I supported you when you were out of work, remember that time? Yeah, that’s what I thought, and for your information my metabolism has slowed naturally so-” Thomas’s head felt like a bucket of shark chum hearing her incessant droning. All those days of pretending to care about her stories about her co-workers, the relentless barrage of mundane, now he had to square off for 300 laps against this harlot. “And Sheila said you went to Twist last night and said you talking to some red headed slut, funny, you always said that you hated red heads because of your mo-” Thomas fired up his balanced engine, smelt the herbal oily burn, and prepared himself for 300 laps of hell.

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Bell’s Two Hearted IPA, It Takes a Lot of Heart to Make a Beer Like This, TWO HEARTS

I have been waiting and waiting for this beer for the longest time. I just anticipated it would show up some day as an extra or somehow land on my doorstep and a year later, nothing. There was something about this beer that apparently people want to drink it and not ship it across the country for free, weird I know. This is the final beer on the top 100 popular beers, so that’s also a milestone for me too. Anyway, randomly RatedZ just packed up two and shipped them to me, FOR NO REASON. The beer community’s generosity is getting out of hand.

Total eclipse of two heart

Bottled on 1/31/12, DRANKEN ON 2/23/12, the freshmaker.

Bell’s Two Hearted IPA 7% abv

A: This is a beautiful beer and is certainly worth the hype in the old looks department, this dame is a looker. Not sure about the trout on the bottle, but the carbonation is NOT FISHY AT ALL.

S: Hoppy citrus notes that feel like a westcoast throwback, super grapefruity, it hits the switches and lets the 5th wheel fall, mild pine scraper bikes are all up in the cut and supported by a mild honey but not balls out like Hopslam. The whole thing is a wonderful hop ghetto and I feel right at home.

T: The taste is very muted and gentle and imparts a slight orange rind and chinook or simcoe sort of vibe to it. It tastes bright and cheerful like an amiable old barber that happens to smell like delicious Pine Sol. The whole experience is very mild and has that balance and coercion I have come to expect from Bell’s. The hops are integrated incredibly well and doesn’t assault the palate but instead goes for a classy Oscar de la Renta tux and a modest cumberbun.

M: The wash of this beer is incredibly foamy and light, it begs for sessionability. The coating is very crisp like tongue kissing a cold pinecone covered in apricot juice. Don’t front, you’ve done it. Anyway, a very solid IPA and ranks among the best, no question. It isn’t the most offensive or gauche, but its strength is in its amiability and gentle repose. A nice hop hammock to fritter the days away.

D: If you didn’t catch the clear notes above, this is likely the most drinkable IPA out there, Hill Farmstead notwithstanding. But I ride the HF jock like a 2 Live Crew video so let’s set them aside for now. This beer is a muted lupulin ninja that strikes and disappears in an herbal cloud. It’s a classy IPA that you can take to a play, give a smooch and not try and go all the way with. Also, this beer is not of age.

Narrative:

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Mikkeller 10 IPA, Oh wow, ten types of hops, hold on let me call the Prime Minister

Oh wow, another one of those cute vintage reviews that you have to suffer through, back when I was all serious and hardline on beer content that no one gives a fuck about. Oh well, just suck it up, I am sure there will be some slams against community college students soon enough.

MIkkeller Ten, Ten Times as expensive as things you can just get from California.

Mikkeller 10, IPA, 6.9%

A: it appears traditional enough, orange hues with light amber hues, HUGE foamy head that is relentless and annoying like Jehovas witness followers. The head lingers like a watchtower pamphlet to your chagrin.

No amount of cute hedgehogs can make this beer worthwhile.

S: smell has a huge floral bouquet that raises itself like an avenging ghost for thousands of fallen hop friends, it reminds me of those angry flowers in Ursula’s cave in the Little Mermaid that are relentless and drag you back for more.

T: The taste is fairly predicatable, with some bittering notes and some herbal finish but nothing to really make it fall out of the rank and file of standard IPAs, with the exception of a nice maltiness that links up with a sort of herbal finish that makes it delicious, but inaccessible and cumbersome to enjoy at length due to cost prohibitions.

Would I like to pay for another overpriced Mikkeller beer? No. I always say no.

M: the mouthfeel is awesome with great balance for the single IPA style, very drinkable and a superbly balanced IPA for the new-comer, it is a college freshman dewey eyed and receptive to many tastes, with reciprocal affection in turn.

D: This beer is exceptionally drinkable, economically infeasible. There are cheaper alternatives that are better suited and better equipped. Go with those, leave this section alone unless you find a patch of it exceptionally cheap.

It's a mediocre IPA, get over it and drink something else. Space Gorilla has spoken.

Narrative: “wait wait, the MSRP on this car is only 20 grand, how did this final invoice total over FORTY THOUSAND?!” The auto dealer sighed and decided to err on the side of propriety “well, when you walked through the doors of Encino Hyundai, I knew that was a man who likes comfort and the finer things in life, so sure, I could have put you in a run of the mill Elantra and think nothing of it” “yes that is exactly what I was looking for” “BUT THEN i thought, no, you know what, what is a car without a suede roof, prada leather, 4 navis, and optional hydrogen cells” The car gleamed under 7 clear coats and was quite a sight to look at, but at the core of it, a mediocre compact sedan that has been polished to a strange refinement. The core experience is nothing to write home about, however, a certain panache has driven up the price inexplicably. “Listen I am not saying that the ostrich interior is too gaudy, it is, but I just cant afford this.” The car dealer looked remonstratively at the car and ruefully pointed to the fishtank in the truck. “Well….can I show you our new…Santa Fes?”

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Minnesota Town Hall Masala Mama IPA, Mama Beats Me With Hops.

Masala Mama was an abusive mother. Also, she lived in a shoe.

Masala Mama, Minnesota Town Hall, IPA, 5.9%

A: This has a great amber to dark yellow character to it, almost making it appear like a pale ale at first. There is great carbonation despite a 5 day old growler. The lacing is relentless and obfuscates the rim of the glass.

I know this is on draft only, let's all calm down. I have this under control.

S: There are nice honey notes and a pleasant grassiness to it. It has a noteworthy, welcoming malty body to it for a beer this low in ABV. Overall, very inviting and floral.

T: There is some light sweetness at the outset with nice use of caramel notes that subsides into mild drying and slight orange peel finish. The taste comes and goes incredibly quickly and you hardly have time to contemplate it before it is gone. There is a slight juniper taste that finishes with an awesome crispness. It offers huge hops and low abv that assaults your conscience after you finish 64oz to yourself, AND IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN. Come on now.

I would like to try and joke about this amazing beer, but I can't just grin and beer it.

M: The carbonation on this is great and makes up for the strange maltiness of the beer. It certainly puts on airs and presents itself as a big boy when deep down it has ABV envy. Nice sweetness that lingers for just a bit and then demands to be tasted again.

D: Just incredibly drinkable from start to finish. This isn’t quite on the Live Oak level, but it still is a stunner in many aspects. You could give this beer to anyone and the hops are happily married to the caramel stickiness, so even diabetic PJ, the kid with the lazy eye, even he would enjoy this beer. I wish that this beer wasn’t so far away. I feel like a prison convict longing for it and another sweet conjugal visit, in my mouth. Wait, that didn’t sound-

Some pundits argue that this beer isn't worth the hype, to them, please see the above ironclad argument.

Narrative: “And according to the most recent census, you have…7 children…is that correct?” “Mmm yais.” the mucky little creatures ran to and fro within the 2 bedroom apartment. The ashtrays were in abundance and overflowing, pets seemed to maintain tenancy in common with the owners, and maintained the home with equal diligence. “And you…you don’t have any of them go to school?” “Eh…no….nooo….” Mother Masalita looked left and right longing for some sort of respite from the relentless questioning of the children services officer. “Wait now, what’s this here?” he pushed a panel on a dilapidated bookcase which revealed a room of radiant light and floral aromas. “Ohh, an indoor cannabis crop?” “eh no…es a secret room…secret.” he entered the tiny room and ducked covering his eyes to the shimmering light. The entire antechamber smelled of bluebell and fresh pastries, there were baking goods and an incredible garden. What appeared to be a negligent household defied all expectations. It was a complex front for a completely calming, loving place that embraced entrants like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. “Well…that…that will be all I guess,” he clicked his pen and picked a rhododendron from one of the pots on his way out. Mama Masalita was one hell of an indoor botanist.

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Surly Furious IPA, THIS BEER MAKES ME SO MAD RIGHT NOW SRSLY GUIZE.

THIS BEER MAKES ME FEEL CONTENT AND NOT FURIOUS ARGGHH FALSE ADVERTISSIONSDGOINDSGOIN-

Surly Furious

A: Orange radiance that calls more to a DIPA the way that the carbonation sloshes all over the sides like it owns the place. Nice big bubbles that dissipate fairly quickly.

S: There’s a huge pineapple citrus bouquet to this that doesn’t bring along the irksome herbal/pine qualities that some single IPAs try and push on you. I enjoyed the traditional grapefruit notes but there’s also this little sneaky pete of toffee that pokes its head in there for a moment as well. I wish he would stay but apparently, non-citrus notes are not invited to hang out.

Surly Furious here to save the day.

T: The first taste is a bit thin with a huge orangey orange to it, it subsides to a gentle bitterness and washes away clean and fast. There is no real lingering aftertaste, just a one two combo and a ninja roll out the side door leaving orange rind in the entry way. Luckily the inexpensive 16oz cans don’t leave you high and dry, you are sufficiently low and…uh…wet. I GUESS!

M: Again, this is not exceptionally thick or chewy and it is even thinner than many hef’s and lower ABV beers. It is interesting in how completely lopsided that the beer is with a huge flavor and relatively low ABV and mouthfeel. If this were an army man, it would be the dude who carries the metal detector. Not because it is a raging vagina, it just serves a niche purpose, and an awesome one at that.

Single IPAs can get you double twisted.

D: This is incredibly drinkable top to bottom. Well, it’s the same all the way through but you know what I am trying to…it’s…you can drink it ok? This is similar to the Masala Mama category where they need to up the serving sizes if for nothing else but my own self esteem. I could kill a 4 pack of this without reproach and glance menacingly around the room for someone to say something. Take a sip and if your glass isn’t empty in a forthright fashion, you are doing this beer wrong.

Single IPA, for this cheap, that is this good. Confus.

Narrative: “Professor Mailer, the subjects aren’t responding to the medication, hell, even the control groups are becoming more enraged,” the lab technician pleaded while gesturing towards graphs which can only be sure to contain sciences. “MONITOR THEIR FURY, it is the fury I seek, not the intermediate results.” Professor Mailer boomed as he slammed his protractor on the desk, sending science all over the place. The lab technicians poked in on the control group playing the Dam Level of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for Nintendo and noted that the furious levels were through the roof. Next they monitored someone on hold with the DMV, the fury again was unparalleled. “Sir? According to these calculations, the furiousness of each group, even the control group has actually increased. Sir?” Professor Mailer insouciantly spun some sciences on his desk, in a sciencey fashion. “And the literature camp?” he impugned, “well sir, without even taking the medication, the group forced to read Mrs. Dalloway was, well, very, very, pissed.” “Excellent, proceed to phase two, up the dosage and administer Superman 64 to each group” he commanded with a refined poise.

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Coastal Fog Brewing India Pale Ale, The Bay Area Rolls out something more lackluster than Silicon Valley children.

Coastal Fog usually tastes like Parliaments and salt, now it tastes like escort spit.

Ok so, this is the lowest rated IPA in the beer community and is (in)famous for being the only IPA in the worst 50 beers category. Today I wrangle this gentle flower and get its pistil and stamen all up in my face.

Coastal Fog India Pale Ale, 5.2% ABV

A: The appearance is nothing too offensive, but also nothing exceptionally wrong either. It has a muted copper and penny look to it like oh, I dont know, an ESB. Does that make you happy? You want labels. FINE. There’s your label, translucent lake water, now go find it in Behr and do you child’s nursery in it. Also, the lacing and carbonation is great, its like the lake after a sick Eliminator goes through straight up eliminating.

Worst IPA Ever? Go on. I am listening.

S: The hop profile is not usual for a single IPA but it isn’t really that bad either. It has a huge wateriness to it, but that might be intentional for a casual fun IPA. Who knows. It has a mild turbinado sugar like a watered down belgian dubbel and finally some hops that are a bit like unraked yard trimmings. it isn’t really that bad, like how Blossom was ok, but if you compare this beer to a real show like Breaking Bad, it’s going to seem shitty by comparison. WHOA.

T: The taste is really thin and watery with an initial sweet honey note to it like if you did a 3:1 water ratio with Hopslam (3oz water 1oz Hopslam) but it has a nice little redeeming pine at the end. Like when you walk into a bathroom and it clearly smells like deuce, but then someone has a forest Glade plug in to let you know that they were at least trying.

M: Ok so, if you missed it, it is watery. Sessionable as hell and almost to the point where I wonder how much crystal and 2 row that they actually used. It comes off almost more like an English Mild in a way, but oh well, haters gonna hate. I feel like the threadbare old white cop who learned something from my renegade partner that, I shouldn’t just judge IPAs on the face of things, and never to touch an IPA’s radio when he is being all sassy.

This beer is not going through any phases, this is exactly how it really tastes. No need to age this.

D: Well, this is kinda drinkable, I GUESS. Furthermore, it is pretty thin and doesn’t really dry out the gumline. It doesn’t really bother me, but I dont really get excited drinking it either. The ho’s and hum’s cascade effortlessly. However, this beer is cheap. I think I got a bomber for $2.99 so there’s that. But then Lagunitas doesn’t taste like bidet water and it is about the same price so, oh well. Is it as bad as everyone says? Not hardly. It’s not even the worst IPA that I have ever had. I think anything by Hermitage is far worse. It enjoys a fate worse than awful, the purgatory of “oh? I forget, no dont get that.”

Coastal Fog did not do the cooking by the book.

Narrative: Clive Worthington was the smoothest loan restructuring agent in the tricounty area, but you wouldn’t see his phone ringing anytime soon. Sure, people loved having their mortgage rates adjusted, and Clive cut through the red tape with the slickest of ease. Once it was over, Clive was left with a series of pink carbon copies and an empty heart. Who ever calls the old loan structure specialist? No one. Real Estate agents get invited to housewarming parties, but old Clive just stares out the window at the children making obscene snow sculptures and wonders what love feels like. He has his model trains at home, his botanical garden, and of course his Ziggy comics, but no one would ask old Clive to a wedding, or even a funeral. He was ultimately not a bad guy, just a guy who was there when things were bad. The opposite of a fairweather friend really. Clive smiled as a child was pushed into a snow vagina and nodded his head knowing that he would die alone. The child climbed out of the crude snow crevasse and shouted to his mother when he noticed that old man Worthington was watching them with no pants on again.

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Flossmore Station Railhopper IPA, Getting my Rails Hopped So Hard Right Now.

My rails get all hopped just looking at this beer.

Flossmore Station Railhopper IPA, 7% abv

A: Nothing too crazy here, nice bright amber with deep gold hues, decent carbonation that mellows pretty quickly, not exceptionally beautiful but nothing ugly about it. A solid ale on the streets but a hoppy freak in the sheets.

S: Some orange rind and some mild sweetness but not a huge nose to this, maybe it’s because it was 2 months old, but I don’t see that being a great alibi because even the subtle notes arent there. It has a very flat olfactory character. No amount of clever writing will make Ashton Kutcher likeable, no amount of artful smells will make this crazy interesting.

You enjoy this IPA? How about I slap your shit?

T: This tastes like a 1.5 IPA, I say that with the respect that it has a nice light citrus character and a mellow piney character. There’s nothing wrong with it but it’s just lackluster. It sidesaddles two genres and comes off feeling a bit weak and generic. I don’t want all “Fresh Hopslam” proponents to get all up in arms but this just seems rather hackneyed for a brewery that rolls out crazy original. I harm them because I love them and just expect more. There’s not excuse for domestic hop violence.

M: Very good, nice crispness without being overly drying. Nice bubbles throughout and a taste that lingers without being oppressive like some Maharajas that I know. No overly herbal character, but it will be difficult to pick it out of a lineup of IPAs. It doesn’t have that certain joi de vivre that most flagship IPAs will maintain.

I should have drank this sooner.

D: Very drinkable, if accessible. I don’t want to insult it as an “entry level IPA” like a monicre I would give to Ranger IPA, but it just feels like someone phoned it in on either the hop bill or just went for the standard grain bill or something. Maybe I am just being an IPA curmudgeon, who knows. Certainly drinkable but it wouldn’t be my go to over the stable (D)IPAs like Pliny/Sculpin etc/

Narrative: “You can’t return this, at least not without a receipt, and then unfortunately you can only receive store credit at FashionBug.” His demeanor was cool and calm, Waylon Lupus was the calm store manager notorious for difusing tense situations. “Now please, if you would like another spandex unitard, you can feel free to select another that is to your liking.” He did not maintain a smile or the slightest bit of hesitation while addressing the irate female single mother desperately searching for deals. His voice was monotone and crisp, like an audio book revealing depressing consumer news to crestfallen patrons. “Perhaps I could show you our wide selection of strapless patent leather shoes?” He uttered effortlessly and slid whimsically towards the appropriate section, mesmerizing his pacified companion. “No one knows your greatness Waylon, no one but me,” a soft voice uttered in the security booth while tracing a single finger across the monitor looking over the shoe aisle. “No one but me.”

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Peace Tree, Hop Wrangler, I Went to Iowa Once and Got My Hops Wrangled so Hard.

Hop Wrangler, figures I would have to go to Iowa to get my hops all wrangled

Alright, so let’s continue bothering the midwest and now Iowa is on the chopping block. I have actually been to this state so I can safely say that this state simply makes amazing beer because they, need it the most. This one is no exception.

Peace Tree Brewing, Hop Wrangler, 6.25% abv, Knoxville, Iowa.

I didnt even know that town existed, I wonder if it’s a badass southern/midwest hybrid, no? Oh ok, I have just been informed that it is a boring ass town. Ok. Carry on then.

A: This initially poured a bit too malty and I was all shaking my head disapprovingly like someone in a mentos commerical. It’s all deep and golden and its makes me like “I bought a lipring in the mall at Coralville, you crazy IPA!” and he gets away with some shit. The lacing is awesome, nice stickiness. Just like all the beer on the floor after my first night in Iowa City when I saw a for reals fight, over what Heidegger would call “Being and Nothingness.”

S: This is amazing, it gets all juicy with grapefruit and apricot and for a minute I was taken aback like, wait wait, what’s this beer up to? But, just like when your parents told you that Selma was Midevil times…

This just isn't fun to put down, then hug need.

T: God damn it. Iowa just pulls a full on hop tease. The taste is so stemmy, it just gets vegetal so hard. It tastes like stems and seeds, ooh wee. Appropriately, the beer on the bottle says “In Heaven There is no Beer” and this theological assault seems to be making up for lost time. Another thing that pisses me off about this beer is that it declares step by step what goes into making an IPA and seeks to get some latent praise from it, it’s like:

“We used a full boil and hops in the initial stage, then we added additional hops, then we used a different type of hops and then in the finishing we used another type of english hops”

Like no shit? Dry hopping and adding to the boil, wait hold on, let me stop the presses like Catch Me If you Can. They apparently use a belgian yeast which adds banana, esters, and clove which belong in this beer like an jock belongs at a Babylon Five convention.

M: This has a great crisp mouthfeel that is all welcome and cool, until it opens its mouth and gets all herbal and foreign. It was good until I actually tasted it, stupid Iowa, your bars are so amazing, and then this.

Not mad, just disappointed.

D: This is hardly drinkable because it has a low abv, relative to the style, it’s boring, ugly, and gets worse when it hits your lips, insert latent joke about Iowa. No but seriously, there’s ways to pull this off, and I like the variety but, they had to know that this just didn’t work on paper, not even a 5 gallon test batch? I guess I just dont like the belgian IPA style but…OH WAIT LOOK AT MY ALE ASYLUM REVIEW where they did this style fucking amazingly.

Narrative: “Guess what? No love to my homies until people from Iowa get into the chill zone on their beer laws. Not enough chillaxing taking place when importers want to move units all up inside that rectagonal state. Just trying to push sick weight into agrarian districts brothenol, ecoboost with ecobrews bro. Don’t be haters because we want to get a sick fade and hit up Herbert Hoover’s old hood. Alright, I wont mess with any corn or try and muscle you out on the hot-girl export racket, but seriously Ioweezy, just let some other states hit you with some sick cases, drop mad bombers on you. It’s not like keeping high ABV beers out of your state will stop people from drinking, it’s like Prohibition era Savoy Ballroom all up in that bitch, non-stop. Anyway, the COs are stressing me about writing this long ass open ended letter to the population of Iowa, but ball all I day is what I do, once I get out from this 5 to 10, I am hitting up Iowa and copping some St. Ides. Real Spit”

– T Cell was shanked in Boise Correctional Facility before his utopian ideal of an alcoholic Iowa could be made into a reality.

0

Ale Asylum, Bedlam Belgian ale 7.5% abv

Ale Asylum Bedlam

Soddom. Gomorrah. Bedlam.

Ale Asylum Bedlam Belgian IPA

A: It looks like a cross between a standard IPA and a Belgian Golden. You get some yellowing and some moderate hazy light amber tones but the appearances seems pretty tame. The lacing on the side of the glass is like a haunted house and grips the entire way down. It’s like all those death scenes in lame ass 80’s movies with people falling.

S: Citra hop hell. This escaped like a virulent herbal genie when I opened the bottle. You get the Yosemite forest with pine and crisp conifers and then the tangerine and citric notes follow swiftly, it smells incredible. It feels like Pliny the Elder at Christmas time. This beer is 2 legit to quit on the hop presence.

T: The taste has very little of the juicy notes in the smell. At the outset your get the herbal aspects that the high alpha acid hops produce, but then, like a child left after tee ball practice, the hops abandon you to the company of a circumspect Belgian man. His Vanover smells of sweet turbinado sugar but, bineg a child you trust it through and through. Ultimately, no candy is provided.

M: It is light and crisp, I should underscore that it is still a great beer, albeit a bit deceiving on the old hop profile. You could give this to basically anyone and they would love you for it. Unless you live in California, don’t give this away, save these for yourself, they can buy their own Sculpin.

D: The Belgian hardly slows down the traction on these tires, this beer is meant for hot weather and dry heats. Why it is distributed in humid, low temperature places is beyond me but I also can’t understand why people from the east coast wear North Face jackets to bars, so the ideas are congruent. Ultimately you can drink this high ABV, tasty beer ridiculously fast, you can play beer pong with it, you can load it into some Home Depot tube and kill it; the only troubling aspect is your friends healt- I can’t even get that out seriously. Drink this swift and fast.

Narrative: Hermes languished on Mount Cyllene kicking rocks idly in his path. “Ah Hermes, what’s gotcha lookin so long in the gums?” Argos asked, consoling with his many eyes. “Aw jeez Argos, I just got all this old speed and no one seems to want to get that wasted anymore.” “Oh?” Argus questioned with a series of tilted brows. “Yeah, here I was, getting all these people sufficiently drunk and all of a sudden, they cut my distribution to the lower Mediterranean, can you believe that? Then here I am just stuck to kick rocks with a bunch of Stoics, holy hams and eggs!” Hermes folded his arms and felt the power that he wielded. His speed could intoxicate a mortal man several times over. As a concession, he delivered an Edible Arrangement to the failing economy of Greece and hoped that they would continue to drink themselves into oblivion. “The EURO is strong with this one” Poseidon remarked and proceeded to destroy another coastal town, insouciantly.