Tag Archives: philosophy

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@Hillfarmstead Prolegomena, A metaphysical flanders red I KANT BELIEVE IT

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Back like 9 months ago when Hill Farmstead let people know about their forthcoming beers, there was a smattering of beer boners that pumped so hard the earth’s orbit was affected for a single rotation. The idea of a full on sour from Hill Farmstead had people log off of their Gawker websites long enough to fill out their Santa wishlist for this beer. So this beer is named after a continental work of philosophy BUT IS NOT EVEN PRUSSIAN IN EXECUTION. So let’s get a sick n0x pump for this flanders and see how many La Folie’s it’s gonna take to land one of these. ERMAGERD SO MANY LER FERLERS.

Haters be all anti-legomena, tossing wd40 on those rusty ass hoverhands

Haters be all anti-legomena, tossing wd40 on those rusty ass hoverhands

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Flanders Red Ale | 8.50% ABV

A: This is a deep muddy crimson that takes some serious illumination to bring those classic RUUUBYYYY tones to bear. The carb is dead on and the lacing is like frilly Mormon lingerie, substantial and excessive. It’s more of a flanders mud or a Flanders mahogany than a flanders red, but if we all tried to be Rodenbachs then we would all be driving Nissan Altimas not getting our dicks sucked. What kind of world would that be?

Beernerds just see that black widow logo and cntrl shift N, delete that web history and bust loads over Vermont gems

Beernerds just see that black widow logo and cntrl shift N, delete that web history and bust loads over Vermont gems

S: In some Flanders there is an astringent aspect not unlike nail polish that is muddled with cherries. Such is not the case here. There is a bold Malbec/Cabernet aspect here that screams a certain degree of dryness but there is also a kind of plum/raspberry farmers’ market that reminds me a lot of Caracterie Rouge, baller as fuck. It seems more gentle in execution than some of the more tart flanders red classics, but if they just brewed a fucking Red Poppy clone I could just sit on my testicles in a cold plastic chair and skip trading altogether.

T: This from out of the gates is creamy pleasant and raspberry cherry oral sex through and through. The tannins don’t dry out the gumline, the fruit isn’t too jammy, the creaminess is strapped onto a fleshlight by the acidity and nothing gets too out of control at this Flanders orgy. Anyone who distinctly picks out the port is probably full or shit and hasn’t had a ton of port, but I would say the port aspect is more like a black cherry over and above the tawny port aspect. Then again, most people are just full of shit. They say they will be there for your adult circumcision and then you just have to drive yourself home, fucking selfish.

A gentle flanders with imperceptible abv, my face be all like

A gentle flanders with imperceptible abv, my face be all like

M: This beer is creamy at the outset but then hits this acidic raspberry dryness akin to Framboise de Amarosa that dries things out. This is like a Ronco food dehydrator that roasts the fuck out of cask oak and leaves you with some cinnamon/fruit dried remains. Think of the most baller Fruit by the Foot with a distinct tartness provided by a perfect vintage of Sour Patch Kids, red 5 variant.

D: This is dry and imparts a certain creaminess that is a bit cloying at room temp, but why are you drinking a Flanders red at 70 degrees you fucking idiot? The finish is clean and washes away with a delicious berry aspect that begs to put your face back down in it and write out the alphabet with your mouth. BECAUSE IF IT TAKES LONGER THAN THAT YOURE DOING IT WRONG.

It is a blend of old, new, and strangely familiar: I LIKE IT.

It is a blend of old, new, and strangely familiar: I LIKE IT.

Narrative: Wesley Jeskerson typed away feverishly on his APPLE II computer while draining artificial fruit drinks into his mouth. The clear plastic twist tops were cast around the room like spent shells from a barret .50 cal as he pounded them in succession while typing out his manifesto. “A Polemic Manifesto: Concerning the Ongoings of Squeezits and the Nature of General Mills Intervention.” The document had almost maxed out the 12 megabyte hard drive with its pages and pages of discourse. Some had failed to see the duality of fruit, others accepted pure juice as an inherent maxim of child lunches. “THOSE FUCKING JUICY JUICE WHORES-” Wesley clenched his jaw and pounded feverishly his final pleas for the fate of his beveage magnum opus. “The palate has an inherently analytic aspect, well beyond the additives, the additives are known only by application of synthetic application, a posteriori concepts. JUDGMENTS OF FRUIT JUICE EXPERIENCE ARE INHERENTLY SYNTHETIC. The pure concept of juice drinks must still be inherently synthetic and not a priori because even Juicy Juice has foundations of sensation based in experience. In expounding upon the limits of cherry profiles, the question is presented: Can Any True Knowledge of Beverages be presented on a Metaphysical Level?” Wesley laughed out loud and drained his glass of 1997 Chateau Margaux. The executives at General Mills were about to get a fucking earful, he had finally identified the Zeitgeist Ecto Cooler and presented the metaphysical inquiry of plastic juice bottle substitutes.

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Surly CynicAle, For All The Sophists, Cynics, Epicureans, and Stoics

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SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS SAISONS IN CANS.

I figured for saison week, we have to have something relatively NORMAL up in the mix so that people don’t think that Saisons are exclusively for pretentious assholes. This saison is not only 1) amazing and 2) off the shelf but it also 3) comes in a can. That means you can slam this shit at the lake, while installing that body kit on your 1997 Eclipse GST, or while watching your kid play teeball. This is a rough and tumble sessionable saison that is ready for combat at all times. This may not have a huge funk or wild aspect to it, but god damn it if this isn’t a refreshing example of the style. Let’s pop open some cans in today’s review:

Being Cynicale can make you emotional.

Surly Brewing Company
Minnesota, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.70% ABV

A: This has a radiant gold color to it with an incredible amount of carbonation that rises to the occasion. There is a moderate amount of lacing and the whole affair is bright and uplifting like a Michael Bay movie where you know that the saison hero is going to come out on top. There isn’t a ton of cling or thickness to the carbonation and it subsides like the emotions of a teenage girl, pretty quickly.

Kill a 4 pack of this, wake up in the morning like “the fuq we do?”

S: This is the most straightforward telling of the saison story that I have had in a while. Since it is pasteurized you obviously don’t get any musk or funk or wild characteristics. However, what is lacks in the wild, it makes up for in the decadent sweet treat department. There’s a deep honey and clove and bubblegum smell to this beer and a cornbread backend like pies cooling on old timey windowsills. There’s also a light peach/pear aspect going on but it is like the background vocals in a Coheed song, you hardly notice them at all.

T: This is incredibly refreshing from the outset with a nice punch of clove and pepper with some bisquik biscuits and some bubblegum that has lost its flavor. It is tough to describe that lingering waxiness but it is delicious and washes away clean. There are some light fruits and a sort of buttery biscuit finish. Again, this isn’t the most ambitious example of the style but at least it doesn’t go on some Surly hop rampage.

This is a strange beer, but totally enjoyable.

M: This is incredibly light and makes you wonder why anyone tries to session any other type of beer when this has the abv, the finish, the look, and the YM charm that gets those teenagers so feided. The whole affair is a flavor bomb with minimal effort. The 16oz can is appropriate and I wish I would get these as extras more often because I rarely want to go out of my way to seek this out on its own because it never seems to last long in my house. BigLobo sent me a 4 pack of it and that shit was merked like John Connor at a Skynet convention.

D: Read the foregoing, this is exceptionally drinkable and totally affordable. The thing I don’t understand is why it is only for sale in places that are frozen for 80% of the year. Ain’t nobody tryna drink a farmhouse ale while ice fishing or whatever it is they do in Minnesota while they aren’t watching the Twins and Vikings lose.

This beer will get you feided on that purp.

Narrative: Sally Weathers was a content housewife enjoying the gentle respite provided by fall in Minnesota. The children were busy outside playing in an igloo that they had just constructed and she lovingly nodded while chopping the iced root vegetables for her famous tundra cabbage stew. It seemed as though the harvest season passed so quickly this year that she scarcely had time to break out the summer jackets from storage. “WHOMP!” a snowball struck the window and she playfully waved a knife at her child through the kitchen window while watching her son jump around in the 9 inches of September snowfall. She longed for the growing seasons that she enjoyed as a child in Salinas, California. She missed receiving that mortgage statement and paying well over $3,000.00 to live in a land not completely forgotten by the civilized world. Those majestic 42 days of sun seemed to pass so quickly, but it was hard to leave when the State paid her family not to leave. Furthermore, work at the ice harvesting farm was plentiful and she could take vitamin D supplements and wait for the sun to return. Life in Minnesota wasn’t easy, but at least she didn’t have to harvest superficial Persian interactions, elective surgeries, American Apparel clothing, and emotionally bankrupt aspiring actresses. Life is all about compromises like the passing of the seasons.