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@penrosebrewing Desirous, It’s a belgi- uh, it’s an IPA, er wait it’s a witbie- GOD DAMNIT JUST DRINK WHAT I GIVE YOU

Alright, so let’s take another stab at those Penrose boys and see if Chicago is alive and well after the dystopian BCBS dipshits left no stone unturned in their quest for beers with a higher finishing gravity than this beer started with.

Sometimes when things are unclassifiable, it is a good thing because the occupy the respective realms so fully that you don’t care.  Other times it is like “golden lager amber saison on cloudberries, the fuck am I holding?” Despite all the crazy ass adjectives here, let’s parse this down, it is essentially a dry hopped belgian wit at its core, and it’s pretty tasty, so I give all this mixed marketing a pass if only for the sick ass holofoil-Charizard labels.

Every bottle is like that third card uncommon.  Target beer does not untap during your cellar upkeep phase.

Some days you just wanna put your Lane Bryant sweatpants on and watch a Gracepoint marathon.  OH NO I MISSED THE NEW BLACKLIST

Some days you just wanna put your Lane Bryant sweatpants on and watch a Gracepoint marathon. OH NO I MISSED THE NEW BLACKLIST

Penrose, Chicago, Desirous

White belgian IPA midwest style 6.2%

A:  This comes out the gates looking like a tasty saison, clear wheat grist to the bill got my vas deferens all torrified with that turbid quality. I swear that glass is clean, basic tickers who buy glassware at Dave n Busters just roll that hard I suppose.  The carb is lively but takes a moment to get all pumped up, like those HGH gelcaps, mad swole, cutty striations.

S: The nose on this beer might be the best part because god damnit it is phenomenal.  You get a blast of clovey belgian esters akin to Dorothy or De Ranke XX and lingers with a touch of sweetness like cadied orange peel.  There is a nice resinous orange and tangerine aspect that opens up on the backend bringing it all together.

If you read DDB, the beer in your fridge should be the least of your personality defects

If you read DDB, the beer in your fridge should be the least of your personality defects

T:  Man, if this were essentially a hoppy saison I would be in hog heaven, instead the taste follows more akin to a hoppier Allagash White meets White Rascal, which isnt necessarily bad but the aspirations and aims at them platinum plaques fall just short.  There is a bready expansive aspect to this that lends a creamy mouthfeel and closes with a type of sticky orange and coriander.

M:  This is expansive and has a nice silky carb that coats and is drying at the same time in a sort of chamomile and early grey with citrus peel infusion.  Again, if this went all drying ala saison or more substantial ala hoppy tripel it would be awesome, it kinda falls in this middle penumbra where you aren’t sure if you can fap to it.  Not extreme enough to be deviant not standard enough to bring you to a succinct completion.

Your friends in undergrad will jock this beer so hard lakeside, complex craft and approachable.  WHATS UR MAJOR BRO COME LIFTING

Your friends in undergrad will jock this beer so hard lakeside, complex craft and approachable. WHATS UR MAJOR BRO COME LIFTING

D:  This is highly drinkable and will hit the spot in warmer weather, but in the realm of belgian wits more people will want either a more aggressive brett L profile or an outright substantial aspect to it.  This is something from the days of the late 2000’s that will kill it at the BJCP level, but the type of DDb consumer might find this to be a serviceable and highly crushable afterthought in a realm that isn’t exactly competitive in the current marketplace.  It is like if someone brewed the worlds sickest ZWICKLEBIER: it is good that it is available, but the style itself doesnt get them hyper attenuated.

This is essentially what I imagine whenever there is a brewery only release in the midwest. PTO hours get cashed in so hard. Luckily this is a solid banger that you can crush without grinding your bedpost

This is essentially what I imagine whenever there is a brewery only release in the midwest. PTO hours get cashed in so hard. Luckily this is a solid banger that you can crush without grinding your bedpost

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Fat Head’s Head Hunter IPA, Man There is a Pun Here…Somewhere….

Another single IPA has crept up into the Top 100, so in my most judicious whack a mole procedure, I automatically have to review this and that annoying ass Bodhi IPA from Columbus. One beer at a time. I posted an ISO for this and 3 people straight up offered to send this to me to review, other people offered to send me no joke like 12 bottles for completely reasonable trades. Nice people, those Ohioans. Ohio has much more than just vapid girls that they send to LA to become FIDM students, THEY HAVE AMAZING BEER. Edmund Fitzgerald, Jackie O’s, all kinds of treats. Anyway, let’s see how the midwest fares when it tries its hand at refreshing IPAs. (spoiler: this is a refreshing IPA, jimmies remain unrustled.)

Oh damn, classing up those IPAs on the reg with some stemware. It is like a Trans Am with a navigation system.

Fat Heads Brewery & Saloon
Ohio, United States
American IPA | 7.50% ABV

A: This is dead on for style and presents a dull yellow meets brassy orange glow with foamy carbonation with nice pasteurized bubbles to ensure consistency and that predictable old refreshing character. The lacing is present until the watery sheeting washes it clean. This just looks refresing, like when you fall face down into the marble tub after drinking hard in Vegas, you might be abusing it but it still feels so good.

With so many IPAs out there, it is easy to pick out the irritating ones. This is not one of those.

S: This is not exactly a hop bomb when you open it, but it isn’t exactly tame either. If we are using Alpine Nelson as a single IPA that goes HAM and let’s call Bell’s Two Hearted as a more subtle and deliciously refreshing take on the genre, this is somewhere in between the two. It gives you a light citrus with one fist and then delivers hard with a nice resinous pinch from the other hand. This is truly a nice transamerican representation of the single IPA in execution. Some people drink Bell’s Oracle and think that is the pinnale of hops, others swear by Bad Boy and cut deep and hard into their arms to prove it. This is like a very genuine mediator, crossing party lines (OH SHIT TOPICAL HOP HUMOR).

T: This is a careful bellhop that gently escorts you and carries all of your hop baggage for you. You get a light sweetness at the outset and then a nice blast of orange zest and light aserose is there to support the splishy splashy malts. It is like a Jdate encounter where you aren’t sure if you are going to get violated, but the coffee is good. The finish is consistent and washes away briskly imparting a light honey and sweet lemon note. I hate reviewing beers like this because they are exceptionally well done for what they are seeking, namely refreshment and moderation in execution. It makes my job a shitload harder when I can’t just rage on Mikkeller for 1000 words and call it a day.

Sure this beer may not be beautiful, or perfect, but it makes you feel good. Isn’t that enough?

M: This washes away with a crisp and watery finish that invites the next sip with some light drying from the hop oils but strays far from a tropical fruit or citrus assault. It also doesn’t leave you gasping with heavy handed pine usage. I am a bit surprised that the Imperial version of this is so lowly rated, but I guess if moderation is your selling point and you shave a rainbow swastica in your pubes, you just lost your fanbase.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and reminds me in a lot of ways of Blind Pig in the way that the entire affair is memorable in how subtle and forgettable it was. Maybe the selling virtue of some beers is how they simply don’t alter anything except your consciousness in a completely benign way. I don’t need to be tossing my couch into the pool when I have to take kids to school at 8 a.m. There’s a time and a place for everything.

When my bottle was empty, I realized that I only had one of these and kicked an asian child in the face. supes tipicals.

Narrative: “Ok, just breathe, they don’t know, smile, nod.” Bruce Lowenstein reassured himself with much trepidation. “Well as you can see, we have the market cornered with the tropical, well, not cornered but ::AHEM:: the sours, they contain the most, uh salt on the outside and, some have said ‘hey, Bruce, where are the new flavors’” This may be recorded as the worst Skittles board meeting to date. At the heart of it all was a single lie. Bruce filed his resume over 9 years ago with the Wrigley Corporation and now he was faced down by 12 dour-faced Japanese investors. “So, the salt, is exactly the need that markets, well specifically the Japanese market, as a uh, compliment to most raw fish dishes.” The rancor of his latent racist comments made them wonder as to his qualifications for serving as Head Chief of Marketing. However, his sweet demeanor made him hard to dislike. His Ritz yellow hair and crisp smile appealed to the Yamazaki investors. “AND THAT IS WHY ACAI AND WASABI SKITTLES WILL SELL!” Somewhere, a resume from 1999 was tucked in a drawer with “Speaking Skills” incongruously listed under “Hobbies.” That Bruce sure was a reassuring son of a bitch, he could help you keep you calm and enthused regardless of how hectic your current situation may be.