Alright I wasn’t going to review any more Ale Apoth offerings because the last thing I need is some shitbags from the South ruining it for everyone, exploring saisons, offering up Loonz that just sit on shelves in humid markets. But fuck it, people need to know and far be it from me to attempt to deprive this brewery of hype. I already deep throated Sahalie enough to get tears in my eyes so why stop? Let’s pump that n0x on the farmhouse rage to get sick vascularity and a deep American Wild burn. Engage the core.
Brewed by The Ale Apothecary
Style: Sour/Wild Ale
Bend, Oregon USA
A: This is in line with the rest of the Ale Apoth lineup with the golden/14k/hay/yellow crayon sort of radiance to it. Put on your black fly shades and go back to tuning your ATV if you don’t like saisons, the adults are talking. The carbonation is minimal, psyche, it is out of control and fucking obnoxious. I got this plenty cold, poured it gently, cupped the balls, rubbed coke on the tip: I DID EEVERYTHING TO KEEP IT FROM BUSTING. But let’s be honest, look at the fucking butterfly’ed cork, it was up in that mix just getting pounded from below. One strange thing is the actual TYPE of cork seemed more porous than traditional fancy bottles, maybe that was the culprit. Anyway, this gave more head than an 8th grade girl with an absentee father. Some people are into that.
S: This is very much in line with the saison game that AA is dropping but with a sharper lemon/granny smith apple aspect to the nose with the muskiness dialed back, not boosting as hard in the red RPMs. There is a breadiness to it but it is more of a crisp chardonnay meet Temptation’s ex-baby mama finish. It seems refreshing but substantial, almost bigger than that 6% abv would let on. How IT FIT ALL THAT IN THEM JEANS?
T: La Tache is strange in that it doesn’t go crazy on the acidity, but it isn’t exactly a saison either. If you have had Civil Disobedience 5, then you can wag your finger and be like “wait second, where does this shit get classified?” Not quite farmhouse, but the yeast is there. Not quite American Wild Ale, the acidity is more of a gentle lemon/tangerine/riesling sort of affair that has a crazy drinkability. The brett is there like a rap battle hype man, jumping up with some earthy mushroom musk for a moment and letting the real elements get down. If you give this to some uninitiated person, whose life hasn’t been completely fucked by craft beer yet, they might think this is a “OMG PRETTY NICE ALLAGASH WHITE ITS LIKE TEH WHITE RASCEL!” and then you can stroke your neckbeard and think of all your advanced adjectives and condescend on them in some passive way. LIKE ON A WEBSITE BEHIND A COMPUTER SCREEN. But srs, the average person would be all over this shit, nips blasting. Size zero jeans getting stripped off a crossfit ass for your classy 750ml.
M: This has an issue that was present to a lesser extent in Sahalie, and majorly in Sahatie: carbonic acid. The carbonation is fucking obnoxious. It settles and when you finally can dig in past the foam and creamy farmhouse jizz all over your face, the beer practically crackles and disappears when the temp/ph change hits your mouth. It has a great pop rocks finish to it, but this bottle clearly needs to either fix its attenuation problems or needs to lay down for a while to learn how to get its Lost Abbey on. Maybe a collabo from the Flat Masters at Kuhnhenn will create that Aristotelian golden mean. Either way, it gives with one hand and takes with another, my mouth has so many feels.
D: This is exceptionally drinkable at its core, but again, it is problematic because you have to sit and wait like an asshole for the carb to subside, then it crackles up again at each sip. Prepare to burp and exude farmhouse gasses back to back, taking in that delicious peach and hay while mouth queefing. I would certainly recommend this over most, better than Sahatie, worse than Sahalie, and still fucking amazing. Dust off that tired, faded CBS and trade it to some stupid fucking 2013’er who is trying to complete a shitty top beers list and doesn’t care about taste. Win.
Narrative: Kaitlynne Powers was loquacious to a fault. When she was 9, she had a Tmobile Sidekick that she broke the hinges and ground the texting buttons down to smooth nubs. “So Skylar said Braiden told Hayden that Jayden liked Aiden! I know right? Seriously, like seriously? Not even gonna lie, ok seriously, can I be honest? Not even going to lie. She can’t come in our limo to winter formal wearing some Charlotte Russe shit.” Nearly 90% of her extrapolations were filler, zero calorie gushing that served to fluff the lack of content that was forthcoming. She was a gusher and filled the room with a certain tart muskiness consisting of snarky social commentary and Kardashian perfume: but she was incredibly attractive. “So, is it just me or, it is what it is, I mean, maybe no one else has done this but, can we be serious for a minute, I need a Smart Water.” Almost every core statement was padded with a litany of foamy lack of substance. The insecurities were present, but again, when you have perfect bicuspids and an amazing body: people will put up with almost fucking anything. Jayden ended up telling Braiden that Hayden didn’t even know Skylar, and all was well.