Lost Abbey Veritas 007, Secret Agent Wild Ale, Busting Tart Spy Missions All Up in your Face

May 26, 2012 | dontdrinkbeer

I feel like I have been wrestling with Lost Abbey lately and constantly looking in my rearview mirror, but one thing that I know is, aside from Duck Duck Gooze, this is probably my favorite sour that they have ever made and, spoiler alert, it is damn good. If landing this beer wasn’t such a kick in the taint, I would seek it out all the time. Let’s get this sourgasm going on today’s review.

Again, I forget if this is V009 or V007, you dont care, just close that Brazzers tab for a second and pay attention.

Veritas 007, Lost Abbey
American Wild Ale, 7% abv

A: This beer has a radiant glow to it and makes me suspect that Witches Wit or some golden was the base beer but, absent some searching on Alta Vista or AOL, the world may never know. Pathetic crackly carobnation and non-commital lacing make this beer ineligible for Jdate. Not sure where the tremblant red colors came from but, hey, belly up to the bar non-standard coloring, even a crazy off pink hue is welcome in these parts.

I can only assume that this beer will get more bad ass over time. If that is even possible.

S: This has that funky Jolly Pumpkin signature wet bandaids with sobbed upon cardboard smell to it. Sure there’s wheat and a tart finish but the trials of a broken breakdancer are the soul of the enterprise. Also, cherries and that aggressive raspberry that ruins everyone’s game and takes over shit rapaciously.

T: This has an incredibly expansive character with cherry and raspberry at the forefront. It mellow a bit, I was told but that is like saying that the kid with ADD is doing a little bit less shitty at math. This is still incredibly tart like a cider rampage but with more dryness. Somehow, skittles got invited to this bruja and decided that archetypical tart fruits would follow up the swallow. This is orgasm in a cup for a 6 year old palate. That, no I mean, it is what a 6 year old would really enjo-, shit nevermind, next category.

This beer is bizarre yet strangely refined.

M: This is super drying and light but refreshing. It would be more refreshing if I wasn’t so stressed out about drinking it at all. I can’t fault it for its existence. Sometime when I drink a rare beer, that comes through consciously and I am aware of it, denaturing the experience. I once drank ISO:FT and loved it, and then when someone told me what it was I bemoaned my fast gulps and distention to detail. This is a fantastic beer and the mouthfeel just served a self-destructive function. It was gone so quickly, said the Lotto winner, sobbing into a 4 seated jet ski.

D: See supra, this is beyond drinkable and, if I didn’t lack the temerity to seek this out, I would do so. Someone give me another bottle and I will write them a short story, just for a chance to indulge on this epic treat again. It is within the ambit of the best 10 sours that I have ever tried. It is like in Cold Mountain where Nicole Kidman falls in love with Jude Law after only giving him lemonade like once, WHAT? I didn’t even see that movie, I MEANT THE BEER WAS PRETTY LEGIT. That’s all.

Great in the morning, great as a nightcap, doesn’t matter, this beer is amazing, when Veritas is on a bagel you can drink V007 any time.

Narrative: The structure of Horatio Alger works and rom-coms had led poor Devin Terpin to believe that it was possible to transcend class structure immediately, if love and a 90 minute resolution was involved. “Repeat again Devin, ’And henceforth, the mandate shall remain tattered dicta’” instructed Ethyl Balmington, his social correctional instructor. “Hens for, this man-date is a tatted dick.” Devin stumbled out warily. Ms. Balmington shook her head reproachfully. “Devin, if you ever hope to attend this Laguna Nigel wedding, you need to work on your diction and content.” Devin sighed and kicked a patch of wild raspberries before him. “Wait, Devin, what is that?” he glanced down and the plant seemed to pulse at his distinctive Riverside dialect. “THIS STRAIN OF FLORA, it is highly combustible with your 909 prototype upbringing!” Ms. Balmington an experienced amateur florist snatched his Metal Mulisha bandana and ground some tart berries into a fine paste. “Now swallow this.” “OBVI!” Devin cried out and made his fraternal sign and downed the berries not unlike the sickest bro. These will take effect in approximately 90 minutes, and all of your romantic problems will be solved. “That sounds like the reprieve of some petulant candor, to say the least!” Devin retorted, astonished. His lifted Silverado changed into a Pumpkin Carriage, then it was on some sick twanky deuces, then it was a bagged pumpkin carriage, which, was pretty cutty irrespective of circumstance. A mere 90 minutes had passed and Devin joked with a pun based upon a portmanteau of Portugese and conversational Greek to one of the guests. “WELL I NEVER!” she cried out while polishing her monocle. “AND I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE!” the reverend shouted and credits began to roll, over the expanse of the life of the sickest bro. The berries were poisonous.

Lost Abbey Veritas V009, Those Hot Crushes Start Out So Well, Then Turn Into a Sour Mess

May 15, 2012 | dontdrinkbeer

Here’s a great beer, er, a beer that was great when I had it last July, but recently people have been going apeshit about how it has fallen off. Oh boo hoo, that size 0 rare girl you met in a club isn’t working out 10 months later? Well guess what, take your $35 and fuck right off because I am reviewing this old school, yeah, waving the Lost Abbey flag and letting people know that if you want a legit experience, drink it fresh. Lesson learned. Thank you Tomme Arthur. Anyway, let’s review this size zero beauty.

Maybe this was the bottle for v007, who knows, don’t act like you give a shit.

The Lost Abbey
California, United States
American Wild Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Murky muddy brown ale with a mucky thick edging that I initially misunderstood as malt until I understood that it was deep currant sediment and grape skins and then shut myself right the fuck up.

So everyone was expecting Yellow Bus meets V007, what is this? haters gonna something something.

S: Wow, where to begin, this has a huge bourbon character, then the figs and currant set in, jumping into the game is an apple/citrus apples aspect before the wood notes close it out. Ultimately it feels like a Thomas Pynchon Novel: the most complicated beer ever made that ultimately leaves you confused and wanting more.

T: It seriously is the most complicated beer ever made. Ok so at the outset you taste a deep caramel with some cherry that subsides into a deep heat that lingers into a sour cranberry. I have no idea how that they pulled this off but it is amazing.

This is tough to explain, it is robustly complex but after only 8 ounce of this, the diversity becomes redundant, like a college admissions pamphlet.

M: Here is how your life will proceed, in succession: deep chocolate cherries oh wait, who is that? Vinegar, wait that’s cool come on in, who else? balsamic fine but don’t be a-? Ok cool, she’s cool too, blackberries welcome, welcome uh sure, oh more dark fruits? Fine, I will just set out more placemats.

D: Well, drink ability reduces down to the operator, but I don’t want to call out the old chestnut that can drink a lot, or drink a few. What I am looking for would be the type of person who would literally drink an entire 32 oz serving of POM or grapefruit juice. He would pass my test. Put simply, this beer is so limited and so complex that if you were to take on an entire 24oz to your dome piece, you are an asshole.

Sure, in retrospect, this might not have been the best idea, but it was bad ass at the time.

Narrative: “Oh I am sorry Guillermo? Do you think something is funny about the plastic bag regulation?” He was berated by his superiors but deep down, Guillermo had an innate sense of humor. He grasped desperately at his job at the Marina Del Rey Sheritan but notwithstanding he had a latent skill that his superiors could not stand. “OH IM SORRY GUILLERMO? SOMEHOW THE KOI POND OVER FLOWING IS FUNNY TO YOU?” His face was beet crimson with this prospect. Guillermo took a sly pull of 23 year pappy van winkel and cooled out for a moment. “Wait, maybe you are operating on cultural stereotypes, maybe you are racist?” The group nodded in accordance and each in turn attempted to determine who was in fact racist. Guillermo secretly was a completely literate and inventive individual who simply enjoyed the fulfilling work of maintaining the grounds of a three star resort. “WELL I CAN’T..ehh…no…nooo…” his accent kicked back in and he looked off into the distance longingly. He was perhaps the most complex grounds keeper that the Sheritan had ever encountered.

Lost Abbey Framboise De Amarosa, Farmboise De Omarosa REEEMIXXXX 2012 CLUE CLUE DJ KAYSLAY THE DRAMA KING fee fee feenn feeennn.

April 29, 2012 | dontdrinkbeer

Alright, so I don’t usually drop the beat and bring the track back unless there’s not enough snare in my headphones. In the case of last year’s Framboise De Amarosa, there was too much acidic tinny snare rankling my jimmies. I was straight rustled. So I figured I would give this a chopped and screwed 2012 flow for the masses.

Some people complain that there are too many sour reviews up in the cut like what these days. Don't worry, the days of shitty adjunct lagers and Solo cups is almost among us. The air is redolent with bluebell and azalea.

Lost Abbey Framboise de Amarosa
American Wild Ale 7.0% abv

Let me kick off this slow jam by noting that this is largely different from last year’s batch in that the acidity has been ratcheted in, they install some sick fruit forward headers, and catback raspberry exhaust. If you like a more subtle approach, you will enjoy it more, if you have dental insurance, you might like the old acidic approach, hey, whatever chases your Valtrex is cool with me homie.

Old craft beer enthusiasts are tough to impress.

A: There are deep ruby hues with some nice light carbonation and light red lacing. It’s like Hypnotiq’s baller ass raspberry flavor to be all sipping on while you’re cruising in your triple black Challenger. It looks a lil more murky than last year but on the Cuvee De Tomme tip, just a lil juicy juice.

This beer is confusing but strangely fulfilling. The mystery continues further this year. Uncel Doland appreves.

S: The smell presents an intense cranberry and acidic dryness with raspberry on the nose. The oak is present in the smell and it is has a juicy wine profile to it. It’s like Andre Rose Champagne but with leather seats and a cutty ass Gucci interior. The skins and crispness of the berries is more present and there’s less of a harshness on the low ph scale to this, and it is more approachable as a result.

T: The taste is still drying but doesn’t go balls out on the oak, it has more of a refined and balanced approach to the berry and interplay with the base beer. If last year was a caustic Fox news, this would be…The Raspberry Science Monitor? As it warms you get a jammy preserve sort of interplay that works well with the skins and wild ale base.

This is a sweet sassy gem with a sticky sense of shameful reproach when the glass is gone.

M: Again, there is an intense, huge crisp dryness. The mouthfeel seems like it’s an intense merlot with oak to round it out. It’s tough to determine exactly how thin or thick this beer is because the coating is so acrimonious. IT’S SUCH A DEEP BURN, OHHH DEEP SQUATS WITH SICK BOUNCING BETTIES, SICK DEAD LIFT FINISH BROMOROSA.

Raspberry deliciousness. TARGETS ACQUIRED.

D: This is an incredible experience with crazy highs and low to it. This is not a figure of balance, nor does it do anything in moderation. It is impossible not to recommend this exceptional beer to others. Clearly, it is not meant to be enjoyed as a sesssion beer and should be treated accordingly. The taste is so amazing that it is hard to knock it for adhering to a certain style so well. Overall it is incredibly bitter and juicy and I am left wanting more.

This amazing raspberry gem is a sign of cognition and awareness to come. FUCKING BREADCATS PEOPLE.

Narrative: The train of her ostentatious gown dragged upon the split staircase with wanton disregard for anyone walking near her. After all, there were plenty of tailors within her Parlor and weekly soirees that would readily repair any damage. Somehow Countess Brioche sought more than just the exploitation of the endearing faces of the working classes. She sought their unending love. Notwithstanding, her acerbic parents brought her up to speak her mind truthfully and freely at all times, no matter how scathing. “Oh-oh-oh!” The Duchess of Piedmont fell down two stairs to her knees upon the rich velvet of Countess Briochess’s train. “Your steps lack precision due to the mass pressed upon them.” Mme. Brioche commented and felt a slight pang at her ejaculation. It wasn’t fair to cut others so deeply with such a bitter acerbic purity. Somehow, in this acidic repartee, others saw themselves, and their own shortcomings, despite the caustic burns they received. Countess Brioche looked upon a bustling courtyard of servants who despised her, but respected her stinging candor.

Port brewing Hop 15, Craft your own “jump” puns inside!

April 12, 2012 | dontdrinkbeer

After rounds and rounds of varying Mongo, this amazing gem comes and flips the script on the hop game. I was all reluctant at first but then this amazing hop bomb detonated all over my grill. My face. Not my barbeque.

The character of this beer is a radiant hue of gold and brass. The nose can be compared to a summer’s day, in a manner totally unlike all others. It isn’t hot, it – god damnit this is a Fantastic beer but it is impossible to write this on my phone.

Game over. Insert coin to continue.

Lost Abbey Red Poppy, Red Poppy be Throwing up B’s Reppin’ Flanders Red Sourblood Crew in the Trap

April 6, 2012 | dontdrinkbeer

Ah I remember last year’s Red Poppy, a reasonable $13.99 or something at the brewery, maybe even more. Well things haven’t changed much price and distribution wise, but let’s see if this old Redface has any new tricks up its sleeve this year, aside from a Tek 9 and a 64 impala.

Getting things red poppin off, man, the puns aren't working tonight.

Lost Abbey, Red Poppy, Flanders Red, 5.5% abv

A: This is darker than I remember from last year’s foray. There’s very little amber or ruby hues and almost a deep crimson that light cannot pass through. It’s like the black stuff from Pirates of Dark Water, if anyone remembers that shit. There’s a very subtle ruddiness to the center of it but it is largely almost a deep brown murkiness. The frothy carbonation is like lemon meringue all ready to take me to the candy shop.

I gladly paid $15.99 for this bottle with fond memories of last year, jokes, bonhomie, barrel kisses

S: There’s a fresh cut strawberry zest with a cherry note to it. This also has an air to it similar to red flavored candy, red candy anything, well except maybe Red Raspberry Dollars, but that candy sucks ass. A mild vinegar aspect gets up in the mix and starts dry humping the olfactory zone with an acerbic disposition.

T: The taste is much simpler and to the punch than I recall from previous outings. It winds up with a nice tart Skittles haymaker, transitions into a cherry tannin taste with some nice oakiness closing up shop and then, that’s it. It is over as fast as you can read this sentence. There is a lingering tartness similar to a currant but the whole affair is over far too quickly, like when you order a private dance and they use the cross fader when there’s still like 40 seconds left of Tony Rich Project. No one else? Ok cool.

I was expecting the tart comedic stylings of Fred Flintone, and then this guy showed up at my birthday party.

M: The mouthfeel has a sharp bite at the outset that subsides into a mellow juiciness that almost seems nutritional by way of contrast to most of the garbage I usually put in my body (beers specifically, not objects.) It washes away gently and I almost forget that I took a sip by the time I want to take another sip. It’s like Deep Blue Something – Breakfast at Tiffanys, it’s so benign that you can shop for slacks in the grocery store without even realizing you are draining $15.99 almost instantly.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable but for all the wrong reasons. I don’t think it is on style for Flanders Reds to be going apeshit and tearing my mouth up like Cal Trans workers, but this is as one dimensional as a fashion student. Much like an awkward Bucca Di Beppo date, you forget about it sooner than you should, and there’s a mild family style disappointment on your palate. The cherry is good, the sour patch goodness is rad, but the swift nature in which this pricey bottle is done leaves something to be desired.

It remains entirely unclear to me, on a Mudkips level, as to why last year's version of this beer was incredible and this year's version is closer to the R-word (rhymes with scrodenbach)

Narrative: “Ok and frame up to a half body shot and, CUT it’s a wrap!” the crew looked on in amazement at Cerise Michael, master director at work. His style was innovative and bold to a fault. His minimalist films had gotten shorter and shorter until, his latest project was a series of 5 shots that had a run time of 94 seconds. Still, people flocked to the theater to see what shocking new revelation that he had committed to cellulose acetate. The recent project was a series of shots of a mailman delivering packages, some starwipes to ducks wearing ties, and finally a sustained 12 second shot of a Seattle garbage dump. Masterful. Local theaters had revolving doors installed so that patrons could purchase bulk tickets and imbibe the tart glory over and over, 94 seconds of complexity at a time. Some pundits argued that a concentrated burst of complexity could use some elaboration, suffice it to say, CERISE MICHAEL COMPROMISES FOR NO ONE.

Lost Abbey Framboise De Amarosa, Farmboise De Omarosa be too crazy.

November 3, 2011 | dontdrinkbeer

Framboise de Amarosa, American Wild Ale 7.0% abv

T: The taste is incredibly drying with incredibly tart raspberry notes. This might be the driest and also the most tart american wild ale that I have ever had. The juiciness was present but largely the dryness wipes out the gumline and presents a huge intimidating bouquet of berries and crispness. The acidity is crazy and stings like an atomic warhead.

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