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Is Cantillon Blabaer 2013 the Head-on Berry Collision that Complainers Like to Make it Out to Be?

Ddb reviewed Blabby back like four years ago or some shit so we aren’t going to retread that ground in full at this juncture.

Here knock yourself out:

https://dontdrinkbeer.com/2012/02/08/cantillon-blabaer-after-an-entire-year-of-searching-i-finally-land-my-white-whale/

LOL TUMS BC ACID GUIZE GET IT #firstjokes

LOL TUMS BC ACID GUIZE GET IT #firstjokes

But what about those infamous “off” vintages? Every three years, meatsweatted cicerones will capriciously decide OH NO FUCK BRO THAT YEAR SUCKS MY HOME BREW CLUB AGREED TOO.

This happened with Flora b6, it happened with Fantasia b2, the NOTORIOUSLY SHITTY Cable Car 2010: none of this makes any sense. Nine times out of ten, the complaints hover around “BRUH it wasn’t even like as sour as I remember, making something more sour is a demonstration of true breW skillz.”

Flora b6 was a touch less sour sure, but posting ISOs specifically like “ANY FLORA BATCH EXCEPT THAT HORRIBLE BATCH FIVE THAT I KNOW IS TERRIBLE” makes no sense. Flora is still fucking delicious.

The glass upskirt is second only to placing the bottle ontop of the glass in stupid beer photography

The glass upskirt is second only to placing the bottle ontop of the glass in stupid beer photography

The greatest victim of this paradigm is tattered old Blabaer 2013. Somewhere along the line people ruled that blabaer must be X2OMG sour and intensely Smuckers and if it isn’t, then JVR really shit the bed on this one.

Blabby already exists as a trade anomaly on so many levels. It often exists as a crown jewel for a first or second year trader to “accomplish” a badge of blueberry merit, to validate their face hole. These same people toss up 8:1 offers and covetous hoarders tear them down.

Those same stupid dipshits who hoard blabaer are actively trying to trade them upwards for Pikku or an M or some shit. This will never happen for the simple reason that: everyone only needs to try Blabaer once.

That isn’t to say it isn’t good, but traders of a certain experience know to never actually drink a Blabaer when St. Lam is far easier to land and tastes better. Therefore bottles of blabaer never move downward, but they can never move upward either. They sit and malinger until someone wants to stunt hard as fuck at some brewery event and live on in infamy in UNTAPPD reviews. WOW Herbert Spencer, such legacy achieved, sociological immortality.

"BRO IF NO ONE LIKES THEM SEND TO ME 4 PROPAR DISPOSALS LOL AMIRITE"

“BRO IF NO ONE LIKES THEM SEND TO ME 4 PROPAR DISPOSALS LOL AMIRITE”

So within this climate you have two poles of raters: 1) bitter assholes who traded a ton for it and were “forced” to open it and share it with ignorant cretins and 2) unappreciative shitlords who failed time and time again to land it and now want to engage in some growing pains of iconoclasm and take poor blabby down a peg,

So yeah, if you pour 2013 Blabaer amongst 15 people it won’t be as aggro sour, it won’t be as fruity, but it is even more interesting in its musky tannic vibe. So within the scope of 1 ounce within bitter BJCP turd hammers, it will become the “bad” vintage.  It is still a phenomenal beer and one should look at groupmind “consensus” with a grain of gose.

Fire up a dare form tab and get over it. Beer itself and beer people get worse with every passing day, fading away in cellars and basements, respectively.

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New Instucrtional VEDEO: AMERICAN LAMBIC BLENDING LESSON – now with more fruts

Ther are more pajotenlands made every year and this vedeo shows you where they are and how to fruit beers so new consumers feel special and aliv.

American lambics soon to be reocgnized by BJC and Cicerone University.

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Upland Brewing Company Announces Bold New “Expectation Society”

Associated Press
Indianapolis, Indiana

Upland Brewing Company is no stranger to delivering consumers exactly what they want. From their celebrated diverse sour program replete with authentic lambics, nuanced fruited wilds, and universally celebrated Russian Imperial stout program: these Indiana brewers know how to satisfy the most demanding beer palate. Their new Secret Barrel Society is no exception:

http://uplandbeer.com/2015-secret-barrel-society-memberships/

Expectation Society also includes brick and mortar location to pick up purchased beers, for no extra charge.

Expectation Society also included brick and mortar location to pick up beers at, for no extra charge.

In an unprecedented move, early last week Upland announced a bold new secret society, only clandestinely made available to public on a website via press release. “Upland was formed by a glacier, that’s always been our motto, but we don’t intend on moving at a glacier’s pace, probably much faster even,” noted President Douglas Dayhoff after consulting an excel spreadsheet, “our sour program is definitely faster than a glacier.” We were allowed to tour the spacious Indianapolis facility where Dayhoff explained the innovative new program. “Everywhere in Indiana you hear people expecting things, in our brewpub you hear things like ‘I hope local home prices don’t continue to fall’ and ‘God I pray these Pacers get their shit together this year’ and that means one thing: Upland customers love expecting things,” Dayhoff noted as he slipped on a neoprene hazmat suit to enter the brushed aluminum Sour Containment Room, “you’re gonna wanna put the goggles on, the beer will burn your eyes even through the barrels.”

While surveying the intensely acidic potations slowly eating through the oak vessels, Dayhoff explained why hope was such a critical part of Upland’s business model, “we didn’t want to be like all those other breweries that accept upwards of $300 and then just give the consumer beer in return. Where’s the hope in that? Where is the romance? Sounds more like a transaction to me, and that simply is not the Upland way.” Upland’s business model has long been predicated on carnival games, raffles and parlor tricks. “We initially loved the idea of raffling off every beer needlessly, but then we started exploring retail models like throwing a ping pong ball into a fishbowl, knocking over Upland bottles with a softball, things of that nature, but they didn’t prove stable enough for a true reservation society.” Shortly after the polyurethane gloves began to bubble after handling some of Upland’s young lambic, we were led to the marketing strategy room. “What we ultimately decided to sell to the consumer, at the very fair price of $250.00, was the right to hope to be able to pay for a beer at a later date.”

Upland brewers hard at work crafting that authentic Pajontenland lambiek

Upland brewers hard at work crafting that authentic Pajontenland lambiek

The bold new strategy left many market analysts dumbfounded and perplexed that they had not thought of monetizing expectation based transactions earlier. “Now instead of entering a lottery or guessing the number of marbles in a jar to earn the right to buy an Upland beer, we cut that right out with a $250.00 membership which then allows you to give us money. It is exceedingly innovative and the perfect way to distribute our iconic ph2.0 libations to the public,” Dayhoff noted as he administered alkaline tablets to brewer, Pete Batule, as he lay on a cot with occupational GERD.

To ensure that the Upland consumer got the maximum amount of expectation per Expectation Society membership, they have guaranteed the right to pay for AT LEAST 100 Upland sour bottles with each membership. “It really wouldn’t surprise me if some people bought multiple memberships to ensure the right to pay Upland as much money as possible, Indiana residents are no dummies and love paying for the right to expect things,” Dayhoff nodded confidently while monitoring bright red litmus strips. “One red-faced patron Bloomington patron even asked me at our pub, ‘at least tell me I can come here to pick up the beers, please dont ship them, my home life is so sad I-‘ and I couldn’t help but feel for him, so every member will not be inconvenienced with having them shipped within the state to their doorstep, unlike some OTHER barrel programs.”

Nearing the end of the tour Dayhoff directed us to the gift shop and looked lovingly over the shelves of Upland branded merchandise, “this stuff practically sells itself I tell ya. Well I mean, it kinda does when we force the consumer to take it with their $250.00 membership, I mean look at this glass! That’s gotta be worth something right?” Dayhoff quipped and stared at the goblet for an uncomfortably long period of silence, brow furrowed.

"I will prolly buy a couple memberships for tradebait," noted local resident, Daniel Rosenbalm

“I will prolly buy a couple memberships for tradebait,” noted local resident, Daniel Rosenbalm

“One ex-employee noted that ‘Hey maybe actually sell the consumer some beer for upwards of three benjamins, I mean Upland is a brewery, right?’ and I mean, he was subsequently terminated for poor performance, but it got us to thinking. So in addition to the mountains of literally imaginary benefits already conferred, I also put this spicy little rider into the Expectation Society: ‘Other awesome events and benefits we decide to add on, spuriously and with adequately questionable notice, throughout the year for members.’ So if the first deluge of expectation and hope wasn’t enough, HANG ON COLTS FANS, a full year of mysterious hope COMPLETE WITH YOUR MEMBERSHIP!” Dayhoff noted walking around the parking lot, taking in the majesty of the local flora and fauna.

At the conclusion of the interview one employee slid a piece of paper into our hands which noted:

http://uplandbeer.com/about/secret-barrel-society/ ….. shhhhh”

and insisted that the society was of the utmost secrecy.

We will continue to update the consumer as more expectations become available.

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Americans DO NOT brew Lambic, Most Belgians Do Not Either. Almost No One Brews Lambic, Ever.

As a United States citizen, it sickens me to see these American breweries attempting to capitalize on Belgian traditions with their bastardized takes on Belgian beers. American beers cannot, and will never be, lambic. Lambics are brewed in Belgium, specifically only within the Senne Valley. Any American brewery attempting to denature hundreds of years of culture by perpetuating the brewing style is nothing but complete disrespect and contrary to the hypothetical interests of generations past.

Such disrespect.

Such disrespect.

It is equally disrespectful for these ignoble North Americans to use the word “lambic style” on their labels. As though noting that a certain influence could somehow wash their hands of the clear impurity, they continue these actions with impunity. At the very least someone might stumble across the infinitely flawed Resurgam or Duck Duck Gooze and then somehow be made aware that lambic and gueuze exists. The problem here is that they will be done a complete disservice if they taste a 100/100 rated wild ale and then think that AMERICA somehow had anything to do with the brewing of that beer. IT IS NOT LAMBIC. Furthermore, the use of the term “sour” on the labels is a complete slap in the face of Belgian brewers who had been crafting sour beers for generations. The employment of any adjectives that notes a tart flavor profile should be looked at as highly circumspect as it clearly sets the brewing culture back hundreds of years to have them appropriating English descriptors pell mell. It should be about tradition.

Lambic is about honoring timeworn nostalgia and mouthwatering practices.

Lambic is about honoring timeworn nostalgia and mouthwatering practices.

Further, Belgian breweries need to focus not on only the Senne Valley, they need to remember the meteorological implications of that valley. The lambic tradition isn’t about the valley itself, but instead the lower cloud strata that distributes the wild microculture. A brewery merely cooling their wort in this valley doesn’t automatically guarantee it is authentic, let’s implement some standards here, for tradition sake. It seems in comport with the generations of lambic brewers that petri dish cultures be taken and analyzed under an electron microscope to ensure that the cell jackets and bacteria fall under a certified Belgian sheath. I can hardly imagine that the generations of Belgian brewers from the Reformation through the Gilded age would approve of calling a beer lambic without microbiobial verification. It is in comport with their wishes.

American breweries have been brewing "WILD ALES" for less than 50 years, who gives a shit about their flawed procedures?

American breweries have been brewing “WILD ALES” for less than 50 years, who gives a shit about their flawed procedures?

Another point of contention is how American brewers are freely identifying the fermented malt beverages that they are crafting as “BEER” just in front of god and everyone. I can hardly imagine that Sumerian brew masters would condone the use of the term based upon the bastardizing conditions in modern brewing. It is a complete violation of Ninkasi, the brewing goddess, and the wishes of the fertile crescent to just go around fermenting any old grain and calling it beer. American brewers have some serious balls setting forth these items in the stream of commerce without honoring traditional cuneiform pressings in clay tablets or a single sacrifice to Innana or Utu, it’s like, who the fuck do you even think you are?

Knowing time-honored Belgian brewing traditions is half the battle.

Knowing time-honored Belgian brewing traditions is half the battle.

I think I am qualified to speak for all generations past and historical cultures from a variety of regions when I say that American brewers need to stop their practices immediately. If I may continue to free-associate the desires of past generations: IT IS NOT WHAT THEY WOULD HAVE WANTED. I don’t care if you are crafting world class beverages according to the MODERN palate, it taints the commercial interests so coveted by past generations. I think we can all agree that American breweries have contributed next to nothing to furthering Beer Culture with their paltry facepalm worthy offerings. So the next time you sit down to enjoy a Timmerman’s Strawberry Lambic to taste that authentic sweet nectar, take a moment to think of all those North American ingrates subverting the proud heritage of lambic.

4

Struise 1983 Unblended Dirty Horse, The Whale to End All Horses

Well it has finally come to this, wales of a certain age. It is not necessarily the whitest whale in the world like say SdM, Dave, or M, but, suffice it to say, it is up there. Let’s just get this out of the way: I received this in a vacuum sealed vial. Everyone was up in arms and the balls tripped were substantial. Second, yes it is a 4 ounce pour. I know I usually give other beer sites a mouthful of shit for small pours and shitty reviews but, I am giving myself an executive pardon, because fuck you. You….you ride the bus. Anyway, let’s get elbows deep in blubber in today’s review:

I was so faded after killing this massive pour, couldn’t drive, couldn’t function.

De Struise Brouwers
Belgium
Lambic – Unblended | 7.00% ABV

What makes this fucking beer so rare and sought out, other than the fact that it is almost 30 years old? Well, Starting with a Lambic grist bill composed of 70% barley malt and 30% unmalted wheat. No yeast was artificially added to the wort, but was exposed for two days to the open air in one of Struise’s plastic tunnels at the Noordhoek Ostrich Farm. First fermentation took place in second hand sherry oak casks for six weeks. 200 grams of Northern cherries per litre and the Roeseleire yeast strain were added after six months, provoking a new fermentation process. Eight months later, we pumped over the young ale to oak casks and let it mature for another 3 years. This project was realized after a tasting of the same recipe Urbain once made 20 years ago and was barrel aging in his garage in De Panne eversince and while he was in Africa and forgot all about it. This version is the original version that he completely forgot about, not the blended version. Gangster.

A: Just look at how beautiful this beer looks. There is a huge garnet meets translucent ruby quality to it. Some people lose their shit when I use “ruby” as an adjective, let’s call him Eric, anyway, that is exactly what it is. Amazingly, it still had a tiny wispy crackle of carbonation that sustained nicely. There was no lacing to speak of but, come on, this beer is 30 years old you perfectionist. This has a look of a framboise meets kriek in the best way possible, like pulling two two lambics at the at the same same damn time (time).

S: This has an amazing raspberry and ripe strawberry aspect to the nose that leans towards fresh Farmers’ Market than the simple juicy acidity that some fruited lambics embrace. There is a deep acidity but the stage that all of this takes place on is a huge musk like the depths of a dog grooming salon. There is this intense attic meets old yearbook funkiness to it that reminds me of the way that Brabantiae took me back to the past. “Comparing one wale to another whale, thanks a lot asshole.” Sorry, that’s the most adept way that I can describe it, beer harder or GTFO.

OPERATION: JIMMY RUSTLING was a complete success.

T: This follows the nose identically and presents a tart cherry acidity at the outset that sublimates into a nice tannic profile and that funky musk follows with an incredible dryness. The pour was so small that I essentially got 5 swallows of this before it was gone, so take all of this as a shittier than usual standard of my other reviews but, that being said, this is easily one of the best lambics that I have ever had, it is more complex than Hommage and more drinkable than Blabaer. This is like the Mechazord of fruited lambics and haters always tryna watch the throne.

M: This is incredibly dry but the light sweetness of the fruit provides relief with the same hand that takes it away. The cobweb and stale dustiness of the backend looks onward from a cherry podium compelling the acidity to push onward, through the annals of time.

whalez in the trap
wale whalez in the trap
wealz in the trap
slaying whalez in the trap

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and the funk interplay with the acidity balances this sweet nectar like a Hatori Hanzo sword and this shit will dice you up. I feel like a douchewaffle recommending this or calling it drinkable because if you 1) find a bottle of this and 2) drink it to yourself, you are a dick. Hopefully this review made the pants of beer nerds a lil tighter, if not, I will beer harder.

This beer is mind blowing, wrap your palate around that.

Narrative: The brackish spray of the Caspian Sea blew wispy clouds of mist around the hull of the S.S. ISO:FT$4$IP. Captain Brock Wellington looked out upon the vast expanse of the horizon, ever scanning for the beast that had eluded him so many times before. “Captain! THIS MAKES NO SENSE! We have been searching for over 29 years for this beast in what amounts to the world’s largest lake. There is no way that a whale would still reside here.” Captain Wellington expectorated upon the deck and turned swiftly upon his false leg crudely constructed out of an empty Jereboam bottle. “YOU THINK THIS IS ABOUT A SIMPLE ANIMAL! No Jerves, you misunderstand why we have set out day after day, we are seeking not an animal, but a mythical 30 year old beast, an underwater sea unicorn, FOR HER TEARS ARE THE CHERRY SOBS OF SERAPHIM.” Jerves clutched the round robin in his pocket and knew at that moment that his captain has gone full on batshit. Just then a deep spray gurgled over the starboard side and the air was redolent with raspberries. “THAR SHE BE!” Captain Wellington cried out and watched a mythical filthy horse raise from the depths, flying on dirty ostrich wings, sobbing mournfully with a menacing howl. “MAN THE MAGNUMS! CATCH EVERY LAST DROP!” The crew steered the Manowar deftly and caught the red mist, inhaling liquid magnificence. For a small moment, it was not about the hunt, it was the satisfaction of conquests fulfilled. They pooled together a total of 4 ounces and presented it to their jubilant captain. He slowly sipped the vial to completion and then jumped into the salty depths below. No round robin was necessary, for having tasted the sweet tears of unicorn angels, his life was complete. walesbro.

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Cantillon Classic Gueuze, Tippin Backwards in the Belgian Chair on fo fo’s

Ah old Classic Cantillon, the gateway drug for many, sought by even more. I always love seeing this gem in boxes that I receive, yet surprisingly, I have never broke my back to seek it out. Just good fortune I guess, or Belgians are just making sure my tastebuds rally so hard. Either way, let’s see what this tart gem has to offer in classic style.

Man this site really took a dive in the old beer picture quality the last few days, oh well, you get what you pay for up in this HTML wasteland. At least I dont have pop under ads trying to lengthen your penis and refinance your home….OR DO I?

Cantillon classic 100% lambic, Gueuze 5.0%

A: It has a murky hay color to it with wispy tiny bubbles that make generous lacing. The glass seems to radiate the yellow 5 looking color throughout the body of the beer. It’s like a dirty lambic lemonade with a murky radiant desert lakewater aspect to it. The bubbles are wispy and dime out instantly, with nothing to contribute to the lengthy tastes presented.

Each time I have this, it hits hard, and is all over too quickly.

S: There is a mild apple and wet carpet smell to it. There’s white grapes and the smell of a coat after someone walks in from the rain. It is different, but still very appealing. I enjoy this but, after having St. Lam, fou foune, Blabaer and all the other cast of characters it is tough to go too nuts over this simple gem. It’s like the Impreza is bad ass, but if you have driven an STi on the reg, it doesn’t blow your mind anymore.

T: The funk is very present in the initial taste with a granny smith apple middle. The notes exhibit a mild sourness of grape skin with a lemony zest to it. This isn’t a tart bomb like some other Cantillon’s but I would say this is their consistent Honda Civic in the wheelhouse. It never seems to disappoint, I can say it’s a permaISO for sures, but there are some others that are similar and less of a pain in the ass to lock down.

Almost everyone I know is a whore for Cantillon, not everyone shows it off so readily.

M: The mouthfeel is crisp and light with minimal coating that tosses some acidic flavors like ninja stars in rapid succession and then peaces out just as rapidly. There is much peacing taking place.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable if you have a glass of water to cleanse the palate every once and again. It imparts a ton of dryness for the sweet notes it gives off. You end up with that movie theater “ate too many sour patch kids” sort of raw mouth. That sort of “Craig list has all kinds of deals” bitterness on the palate. That kind of bitterness. “Show the jury where this beer touched your palate on the doll” bitterness.

This beer trips all kinds of alarms, but in a good way, not 5am before a final sort of way.

Narrative: “Please…just let me go free…I won’t talk to anyone about this hidden Acai berry farm!” the covert agent pleaded dutifully with the farm hand, Brouwerj. “Well, I think the boss’d be pretty sore if he knew I was letting people go free all higgledy piggl-” “Ok cut! Everyone take 5. Mike, can I talk to you for a second?” The two left the set of the farmhouse and walked over to the confectionary table. “listen mike, I know that you know that I know you only got this role because I am dating your cousin. That is fine. But you have to listen to my direction notes ok? This is a Belgian farmhouse, in every single scene you come out with this Appalachian drawl. What is that?” “Weeeeell shucks I-” “YES, see that, don’t do that, you don’t even have to have a decent Belgian accent, just be yourself, ok?” The two went back to their places and the scene began a new. This time Mike’s radiance outshone even the lead roles as he eloquently delivered tart and cunning ad libbed barbs and pleaded in the wet hay with the title character. Not a single eye was left dry on that soundstage that dry. The boom mic bobbed mournfully between the sobs of the grip. In the end, the movie was cut to a single monoscene due to his riveting improvised speech while gathering apples and issuing a tearful goodbye to the secret agent. “CUT! That’s a wrap!” “Weeelllll shucks I-”