Tag Archives: saison

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Ale Apothecary Sahalie, Thanatos Has Assembled all of the Saison Gems and Your World Is About To End

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It is not a well guarded secret that I love me some saisons. Shit, didn’t we do something like 34 days in a row of saison reviews? That’s what I thought. Anyway, this banger started some serious buzz on the top saison lists and at first I dismissed it as some farmhouse chicanery, but batch after batch it kept creeping higher and higher until I buckled and sought out this elusive farmhorse. Some people got their tampax all sideways when I said that this was rare, apparently 55 wants 4 gots wasnt rare enough for them. But landing this is kinda a bitch, so take that for what you will. Plus this bottle was like $30 or something, so you gotta ball outrageous to fucks with this. Let’s get to it.

As wit hmany of my other saison reviews, I swear I didn't pour this like a dicktouch. These saisons come out like broken washing machines.

As with many of my other saison reviews, I swear I didn’t pour this like a dicktouch. These saisons come out like broken washing machines.

The Ale Apothecary
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 11% ABV (Jan 2013 release)

A: This is just outright beautiful and pours a hazy turbid orange with bright gold hues at the edges. The cabonation is ridiculous and almost to the point of being obnoxious i.e. Upland Lambic steeze. The soapy bubbles keep on coming and its like bath time for the farm hands. The lacing is also pretty ridiculous making the inside of your glass looking like a Baroque sex party, lace and frills all over the place.

If you think you are a saison expert, you probably are a raging pussy. I should know, I am a saison expert and no one can beat my ass.

If you think you are a saison expert, you probably are a raging pussy. I should know, I am a saison expert and no one can beat my ass.

S: This has an incredible nose to it at low temperatures. In fact, let me condition this entire review by noting that at 45 degrees and 60+ degrees this beer is an entirely different experience. When very cold you get this light acidity, pears, melon, lemon grass, floral hibiscus sort of earthiness but a big juiciness to it. As it warms, this thing pulls out its 11% dick and pounds your nosehole with careless abandon. It gets this really offputting fusel and astringent quality and reminds me of pissing off the saison Hulk. You wont like this beer when it is angry.

T: Again, when this beer is cold, it is mindblowingly good and absolutely world class. If you have had Handfarm, think of that but a juiced up imperial version. If you had Clos Preal batch 1 then you will know exactly the high abv saison beat I am talking about. This presents apricot, acidity almost like a musky beatification with less tartness, apple skin, honeydew, lemon and a sorta of parmesan cheese musk that lingers with the juiciness after you swallow. This is just phenomenal. When this beer gets warm, watch out because shit gets real pretty quickly. It gets this heat to it like an imbalaned Belgian Tripel with this boozy pineapple meets gin ester that is really offputting. It is incredible that a beer can be both world class and hateful at the same time. A truly bipolar bitch.

With an 11% saison, part of me things someone pulled a nasty trick on me. BUT I LIKE IT.

With an 11% saison, part of me thinks someone pulled a nasty trick on me. BUT I LIKE IT.

M: This maintains a nice lip smacking dryness with a lingering oakiness to it not unlike fresh Temptation. The acidity is restrained and the abv is masked in a way that is staggering. IF you have a sorority girl you want to put to sleep, this beer will do the trick. “Date rape jokes are not funny” I agree, but we can all agree that having a quiet DG is a vast improvement in any situation. This is exceptionally refreshing at low temps and just starts flipping over card tables if you dont watch your glass at higher temperatures.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable as long as you get to it fast and dont let those sticky alcoholic tones spread their wings. If you sit on this its like a colony of zergling eggs that just need some incubation. You go from exceptional funk and musk, light lemons to face melting pineapple liqueur in a matter for 25 minutes. Again, take all of this under the caveat that you cannot just take Sahalie out to a seafood dinner and expect to hit the sheets. You have to put that saison time in and really enjoy this under the right conditions, otherwise things get out of hand really quickly. It is like “This is the best beer I have had in a long ti- OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME THATS WHERE I POOP FROM-” and the kid is pointing out what the saison did to you on a doll in pretrial proceedings.

Tell me how easy this beer is to land. I don't give a fuck.

Tell me how easy this beer is to land. I don’t give a fuck.

Narrative: Dwayne Johnson was a mild mannered tier of the rural Texas community within the pleasant town of Elderton. His tan Grecian form lumbered to the mailbox and he waved to the mailman with an inviting smile. “Hey Big D!” Thomas Norse, the local postal officer waived to the monster of a human from across the street. As he walked inside he reviewed his Verizon bill and felt his traps pulse with a taut anger. “I…I am on the unlimited PLANNNN-” he thought angrily and clenched his jaw. Dwayne exhaled slowly and regained his cool composure and sat down to his usual breakfast of 2 eggs, 10 oz filet and oatmeal. “I dont see why they would charge me with OVERAGES WHEN I HAVE UNLIMITED ACCESS” he gripped his melon and fiercely bit into an apricot. He rounded the foyer of his house only to see that someone had writted “TOO FAST TOO FAGGOT” on the side of his tasteful raised Bronco. “THAT IS TOO MUCH!” he roared and tore away his tiny tank top revealing his massive frame. He was a gentle soul, but if you got him hot, his genial aspect converted quickly into a 250 lbs wrecking ball that even the most patient DMV employee could not console.

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@tiredhandsbeer Entropic, Entropy is not a human issue, Entropy is matter of course

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I WOULD LIKE TO DECLARE THIS TO BE THE MOST DRINKABLE BEER THAT I HAVE EVER HAD. Live Oak Hef has officially been moved to second place. I drank this entire 32oz growler in ~40 minutes while playing Crysis 3. Srs bzness.

Before we even get started in today’s review, you should turn this shit up while you read this review:

So what do we have today from the Tiredest of Hands. My hands are usually super tired from fapping all the time, but I think discussing entropy warrants that we address something higher than just torquing it. This is a draft only offering from one of my favorite breweries who seems to be seeping from their saison roots and dominating other styles not unlike when Hill Farmstear dropped Damon and everyone lost their shit. So what do we have today? This is listed as an American Pale Ale, but I feel that this is a misnomer given the complexity and execution of this beer. But then again, In statistical mechanics, entropy is often related to the notions of order and disorder. THIS SHIT IS STRAIGHT DISORDERED AND MISCLASSIFIED.

20130309-100945.jpg From disorder comes something inherently ordered and simple in execution, call Zeno BECAUSE I FOUND A PARADOX

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
American Pale Ale (APA) | 5.50% ABV

A: Holy hell look at the radiance on this gentle beast. I did not even look this up before I just went balls deep pouring into globes, not even sparing a single fuck. The carbonation is amazing but not excessive like those crazy Fantome or Upland Lambics, just enough to drop a snap crackle and even some pop notes. Crazy pop notes. AH shit, purge “pop notes” from your memory, I dont need another fucking phrase yelled at me at beer releases.

I looked up and saw this was listed as an American Pale Ale and was all like huehuehuehuehue

I looked up and saw this was listed as an American Pale Ale and was all like huehuehuehuehue

S: This has an incredible lemon zest and coriander waft to it, there is a lemon meringue and brackish cleanliness to it that smells straight fresh out of the shower clean. If Polo Sport made a beer, it would be this, so fresh and so clean clean. There is a light hop presence but I am talking like sliding your hand up a thigh in the movies gentle, incredibly restrained. This straight up is not a pale ale, I will just say it, much less an ultra hopped AMERICAN pale ale. To be clear, this beer is amazing, but I feel it is misclassified. If you walk into this expecting some pine and grapefruit zombie dust bomb, FUCKING THINK AGAIN.

T: This carries itself with a graceful lemon and light wheat profile but again is so subtle in execution that picking out the notes from the malts themselves is like picking fly shit out of pepper. There is a lemon pledge meets tangelo finish in the taste and the finish has this amazingly refreshing brackish saltiness to it that almost reminds me of a gose. The faint tartness, lemon, and clean finish makes this beer lean harder on the “belgian table beer” meets gose taste to it. If you have ever had Stillwater Premiere or a grisette, it is like that. You get this sort of baby saison impression that is far removed from the APA world.

This gentle beer is a crazy sniper, before you realize it, growler is gone, and you are out rustling cattle in downtown Baltimore.

This gentle beer is a crazy sniper, before you realize it, growler is gone, and you are out rustling cattle in downtown Baltimore.

M: This is incredibly frothy and clean in the mouthfeel. It washes away completely without any residual lemon tastes, and only a faint hop presence. Seriously, if we are still talking 90’s colognes this is seriously like Davidoff Cool Water of the refreshing beer world.

D: I said it above and I will reiterate it here, this is the most drinkable beer that I have ever had. The abv is masked perfectly and that saltiness washes away begging for another huge swallow. Bird enthusiasts get all excited when I be talking about big swallows. Seriously though, in the same way the Live Oak hef has that amazing honey/lemon thing going on, this has a light saltiness and acidity that makes you able to burn through these growlers with a swiftness.

This may not be the strongest beer, or the most complex, but God damn if it doesn't get me dripping wet.

This may not be the strongest beer, or the most complex, but God damn if it doesn’t get me dripping wet.

Narrative: Paul Regis was the most uplifting person in Kraft’s marketing team. His off-yellow suits and dapper oiled hair made all of the receptionists swoon in the Pizza Pocket division. “And so you see, the losses in the Spongebob Mac and Cheese are actually offset by the Phineas and Ferb fruit snacks!” he declared with a refreshing confidence. The investors nodded and took deep pulls from their lemon water, compliments of Mr. Regis. In the breakroom, he would provide that reassuring nod and listen with quiet solemnity at the most trivial concern from the hispanic secretaries. “And so Celia never replaces the toner and I be like, ‘maybe you need to print adouble asided'” and Paul would make anyone feel that their stupid ass complaints were valid. Paul was not the most complicated individual, but he was just the person to talk to if you had a lighthearted concern that needed confiding.

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@tiredhandsbeer Guillermot Prunus, Saison, Bourbon, wild cherries; YOU DO THE MATH

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First and foremost, I would like to bitch that the dark saison market is both not highly contested, nor is it well executed in most instances. The problem I feel lies in the mainstream offerings like “The Perfect Crime” having people be all like “oh that? no…I am good…I will just drink…this actually good beer, no thanks.” Most people are shortsighted and unwilling to jump into the shallows and rub their crotches on some sea anemones. Some are very nice. When you get a really good dark saison, you get to merge the best of those dark fruits with the dirty musky and lactic aspects of the saison world. Everyone wins. I used to hold Civil Disobedience 4 as the standard bearer for the genre. 10 days ago I had a CD4 and today I drank Guillermot Prunus, both are exceptional but god damn it if this prunus did not just stomp on my plums.

Dark farmhouse, like a haunted farm, those places that make Kale and listen to Animal Collective.

Dark farmhouse, like a haunted farm, those places that make Kale and listen to Animal Collective.

Tired Hands Brewing Company
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.50% ABV

A: At first this pours like a watery porter with a deep secret, or kinda like an American wild with one of those questionably dark base beers like Otiose where you are like “wait whats going on here, style crossing is taking place.” I wouldn’t expect the BJCP in all of their 3oz plastic cup glory to carry this innovative style very far, but look at it, it is not quite a porter look, lil khaki foam, watery legs supporting a bit of residual char to the substrate but washing away exceedingly clean. I can imagine an evil ass farm owner drinking this while looking over his plum fields cracking his knuckles and figuring how to excise greater tithes from his serfs. That kinda shit.

At first you are like "saison" then you be like "bourbon" then the salesman is like "DARK" and then you are locked in a 36 month lease explaining shit to your wife.

At first you are like “saison” then you be like “bourbon” then the salesman is like “DARK” and then you are locked in a 36 month lease explaining shit to your wife.

S: This, like other well done black saisons is a crazy melange of things taking place at once. The initial blast is a bit of drying roast, then it subsides into a black cherry meets cola sort of finish, you get this lactic underpinning like blackberries and the final waft has a really muted musk to it like pumpernickle bread dipped in cranberry juice. Don’t act like you have never been pregnant and tried it.

T: This sets forth with again that chalky roast and for a split second I have a fleeting feeling of sads like someone soured up an Edmund Fitzgerald, but wait, that was secretly the opening band playing a .5 second set, it goes into a raspberry and black cherry jam sesh, minor and mixolydian scales running this light but musky exection on the backend of the swallow. It isn’t exactly like a porter mixed with a kriek, but, if you had no frame of reference, that would be my best initial description. If you have had Otiose, imagine mixing that with Dark White BBB. In writing we call that concrete DETAILS, contrasting with objective experiences, THIS IS WHY I AM A GOOD WRITER OK.

And suddently, something musky and dark arises on the backend, that is strangely welcome.

And suddently, something musky and dark arises on the backend, that is strangely welcome.

M: This is a bit chalky at the outset because the interplay of the roasty malts and lactic acidity of the cherries work against one another, however, once you swallow it executed in harmony like a cherry cordial and it is very, very good. I could merk an entire bottle of this and still show up for my Parole Hearing, all redfaced talking about Walmart is hiring. The 8.5% abv is nonexistent with all of this madness taking place on the palate. It is like when the size 12 Honduran chick sneaks in with a bunch of Ford Models into a club, you realize it the next morning, but by then it is way too late.

D: this is exceptionally drinkable and presents a bevy of dark fruits, slick finish, light lactic aspects and a tannic meets char finish that somehow works like bacon ice cream. It is tart yet savory at the same time and makes me wonder how many Weight Watchers points this is, for some reason they did not even list it on the bottle. I AM WATCHING MY GIRLISH FARMHOUSE FIGURE.

It is dark, amazing, and you just want more of it.

It is dark, amazing, and you just want more of it.

narrative: “so if you take the square of the two sides of the figure what do you get?” Mr. Cerise asked the lackluster 10th grade geometry class. Each student slumped in turn, smacking cherry bubble gum and texting tart badinage with one another. “So no one knows how to circumscribe this figure? What about the area of the sides at least?” Again the cool silence and hum of the air conditioner rolled over the Tucson suburbs. Each middle-class adolescent shifted in their chairs uncaring. The protractors went unused and the complexity of the Euclidian formulas went unappreciated. Mr. Cerise ground his teeth and looked down his brow at the class. The cherry gum smacking stopped and they sensed something far more sinister and dark was taking place. “What if you, let’s say you date raped a girl at this ARBY’S we can call that point A-” the class leaned forward, listening intently on this solemn invocation. “And say she WAS AT FIRST CONSENTING AND YOU TAKE HER TO A PARK, call that point B-” even the ESL students began to perk up at this point, waiting to witness the chilling conclusion of point C. “SO, you are going to want POINT C to be as far as possible from the other points, call it THE ROCK QUARRY OK, listen, I don’t have all the answers.” Mr. Cerise dropped his dry erase marker and ran his wet fingers through his musky dark hair. These 15 year olds had just been schooled on some dark edification.

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Logsdon Seizoen Bretta, SAISON MARATHON IS FINALLY OVER. Also this saison is super dank.

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You guize, I didn’t die, and saison marathon is finally over. Closing out like a boss with an amazing PnW saison that people have been jocking harder than Starter Jackets in the 90s.

Looks like orange juicy juice, cream on the inside clean on the outside.

Looks like orange juicy juice, cream on the inside clean on the outside.

Doubling down on the pics to close out saison marathon

Doubling down on the pics to close out saison marathon

Logsdon Farmhouse Ales
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Just look at that turbid milky mess of saison. The wheat is poppin like cheeks at Magic City and makes me wanna pop bands and sprinkle bills all over it. The carbonation is downright hilarious. I ordered this at Little Bear and the bottle gushed so hard it made the server look like he was pulling off some Urkel shit. The lacing is substantial but somehow looks clean at the same time. Filthy yet desirable, Sasha Grey level saison maneuver.

After a full month in the weeds, time to celebrate...with a saison. God damnit.

After a full month in the weeds, time to celebrate…with a saison.
God damnit.

S: There is a huge dryness to this and the brett profile is more pronounced than a non-regional dialect. You get lemon rind, puppy breath, grapefruit juice, the musk of cookie dough without the sugary sweetness, and finally some pineapple aspects on the closer. If you cannot land Fantome Ete, this is about the closest thing I can approximate that beer to.

T: This is incredibly musky and earthy and almost has a sort of mushroom and Jazz apple interplay going on. There is the classic belgian yeast strain, white pepper in the middle body, and this dry execution like pear skin that is more legit than Trinidad James. This doesn’t go overboard on any aspect because the musk is ratcheted back enough to give the tart aspects enough stage time. This is something I imagine the elementary school grounds keeper drinking after a long day of mowing down crabgrass, earthy and bitter with a tinge of tart hope for the future. Excellent and profound like a Soulja Boy album.

I was gonna try and tie this picture in to the review, but it is a god damn baby kangaroo. Joey so hard.

I was gonna try and tie this picture in to the review, but it is a god damn baby kangaroo. Joey so hard.

M: This is dry but like I noted, that musk adds a complexity that just wipes out your bitter zones and daisy chains it to make you want to take another sip. The brett with the substantial wheat body has this one two punch that if either aspect was ratcheted back, would be imbalanced. You remember how Garbage Pail Kids cards were dirty but at the same time refreshing and intruiging, that is kinda how this beer is because you know it is messy, but you secretly like all the soil smashed in your hair and your skin all dried out. You nasty.

D: This is one of the most drinkable saisons, it is all over shelves, it has an amazing price point, and delivers every time without that Russian Roulette of Belgian bottles. I highly recommend showing this to someone who doesn’t know dick about saisons, show them your dick, I mean, the beer. Damnit. This has the aspects of other baller/expensive saisons and glimpses the tiers of greatness like Tintoretto, but fails to hit that farmhouse perfection like Titian exemplars HF, Fantome, etc, all the other breweries whose jocks I ride like a sybian.

My face when I completed an entire month of drinking the best saisons in the world.

My face when I completed an entire month of drinking the best saisons in the world.

Narrative: James Kurtz pounded each step in rhythmic pain, exhaling a cloud of mist through his strained lungs. It had been an aggressive 26 miles but he had now entered the final stretch and an Oregon morning had never seemed so crisp. He crossed the finish line and walked with an antalgic gait to a pile of leaves and laid down to stretch. He swallowed deep from the cup of lemonade and looked up to the sky, watching the nimbus ornaments drape their alabaster fingers across the sky. It had been a battle the entire way, but he had finally done it: HE RAN AN ENTIRE MARATHON COMPLETELY DRUNK. James pulled off his Camelpak and took a final pull of the saison bladder in his backpack. His physician told him that drinking 8% beer while dehydrating himself was a suicide mission, but he pressed on. Some complained that he reeked of alcohol and wheatgrass, but his pores were a testament to his achievement. With a gentle repose, James laid in the grass and inhaled deeply. Saison marathon had finally been completed.

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7venth Sun Saison Extreme, TAKING YOUR FARMHOUSE TO THE XXXXTREME!!! DO THE BELGIAN DEW!

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Happy 12.12.12, make a wish if you happen to be a 13 year old girl, or someone who is creaming his jeans for some Stone release. For those of you who are knee deep in trade bullet casings, ducking in the trenches and lobbing Cable Car grenades, you know about 7venth Sun. You know about their 30 bottle runs, you know they have those banging Berliners that Funky Buddha and Wakefield had been pumping in the streets; but what about their Saisons? We already looked at Swamphead to see what the business is, but what about an even smaller brewery that is burning up the underground like Mike Jones? Let’s see if Florida can slang hot beats in today’s review:

Get your Ecto Cooler and Gogurt, this is gonna get exxxxtreme

Get your Ecto Cooler and Gogurt, this is gonna get exxxxtreme

7venth (Seventh) Sun Brewery
Florida, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.50% ABV

A: First off, I had this in both the growler and in one of the (~30?) bottles, but I sent one of those bottles to a solid homie, so this is ONLY a growler review, ya dig? Well, I cannot say that this is extreme in the saison world, it actually seems refined and gentle like a John Updike novel. Run Farmhouse Run. The carbonation was still pretty generous considering the cross-contiental journey. The color was a light copper bordering on dark gold with nice lacing that streaked the glass like so many BIFs that I have seen.

This beer is refined and yet savage at the same time.

This beer is refined and yet savage at the same time.

S: The nose was extremely spicey and had a light touch of fusel elements, YOU KNOW ABOUT THOSE DAMN FUSELERS. There’s some white pepper, clove, and a touch of that sweetness you smell in Djarum smokes. There is a bit of musk but it really made me wish that I had the Brett version of this, BRETGERS CANT BE CHOOSERS.

T: This is a fairly standard execution in that it presents a nice wheat grist to it, a bit of lavender in a way, the clove and honey aspects are preserved, and this deep floral aspect like I just made love in a pastoral thicket to a woman or a confused young man. However you like it. It is tough to really pick this apart because this is essentially the Nissan Altima of saisons in that it presents all of the things that are required, doesn’t go apeshit on ABV or extremely lactic, no barrels were involved, no one has a black eye or torn Juicy Couture sweat pants. All is well.

Ehhh...noooo....Mr. Saison no es home...

Ehhh…noooo….Mr. Saison no es home…

M: This is slightly dry but there are enough residual sugars to sustain the day. The floral aspect lingers on but not in a hoppy manner, just a sort of hibiscus dipper in agave nectar sort of execution. Reviewing this beer is tough because it is like when someone goes “Was Wicker Park good?” and you be like “ehhh, it wasn’t bad, but I don’t see it landing on AFI’s top saisons list” and the metaphor gets all diced up.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and masks the ABV well, despite the slight tinge of heat on the nose. There is a variety of the old saison favorites, with a subtle twist, like the difference between No Strings Attached and that other movie that was exactly the same, released the same year. It is not like Paul Blart: Mall Cop and Observe and Report where one is clearly shittier, this is a solid saison that would warm your heart if only 1) you could find it and 2) you weren’t such a jaded beer ticking asshole.

Theft never gets anyone anywhere.

Theft never gets anyone anywhere.

Narrative: Adelbrecht Herjj was having a hard time adjusting to his contemporaries in Jacksonville, Florida. For starters, he was a pasty white obese Belgian man who looked not unlike Tintoretto. For seconds, he was not a Jaguars fan, nor did he even understand the basic tenants of the violent American past time. Santaesque or not, he moved to Florida clutching the American Dream, knowing that Florida was one state where liberty reigned and Deomcracy was truly pure. Adelbrecht wished to move to the Sunshine state and start his very own farmhouse, complete with apiary and meadery. Things started off rough when the corrupt Jacksonville government fined him for unlicensed zoning, water usage, and reindeer breeding. The last item was largely overlooked, but the problems still remained. Adel set out his koelship tanks and exhaled in dismay, “THINK ADELBRECHT, what do the Americans like…” he looked askance and saw a CornNuts package with a menacing character on the label, questioning his extremeness. “EXTREMENESS! That is IT!” The sleepy Belgian brewery overnight became an X-Games sensation when he let BMX Legend Dave Mirra carve hardcore in his Brite Tanks. His saisons were also XXXTREME when he decided to serve them IN A ROLLERBLADE. In summer months, partons were free to climb the grain silos and base jump off the roof into spent grain. Things became distinctly EXTREME and Belgian at the same. Damn. Time.

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MYSTIC BREWING SAISON DOUBLE HEADER, As if saisons did not give enough head already

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Well today I am doubling down on the saisons and taking two Mystical products to the dome to determine which mystic generates the most pleasure units. Shit is getting pretty Jeremy Bentham up in here real quick. I took their regular Mystic Saison as a control group and then took the Mystic Saison Asterix as the crazy ass variable. WILL PUTTING A SAISON IN A BOURBON BARREL HAVE FAVORABLE RESULTS? Today we take the Pepsi challenge to find out if regular or extra bourbon fried is the best variety of farmhouse.

Slanging hot rhymes, Mystikal Sasizon

Slanging hot rhymes, Mystikal Sasizon

Mystic Brewery
Massachusetts, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.00% ABV

THIS IS A GOOD SAISON!*
*you knew this joke was coming

Mystic Brewery
Massachusetts, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.80% ABV

Appearance:

REGULAR

This is about as dark as a saison can get in my book before I start calling Shaun Hill and asking if any stray bottles of CD4 escaped. This is damn near light brown and the golden hues that I look for in normal saisons are overtly absent like Korean high schoolers during the math olympics. The carbonation goes to the almost excessive level where I can go beat someone’s ass in Marvel vs. Capcom and return before I can actually drink it.

BOURBON FRIED

This looks much closer to what I am looking for in terms of that radioactive radiance that those baller ass saisons exhibit. I cannot understand how being left in a BOURBON barrel made the visual tones lighter, but I don’t have Beakman’s Laboratory to test this out. The carbonation is ratcheted back and Francis Bacon nods approvingly at this experiment.

Winrar: BOURBON

Reviewing two completely different saisons? Do it for them.

Reviewing two completely different saisons? Do it for them.

Smell

REGULAR

I get some tartness from this like pear and jazz apples, there’s a sweetness on the backend that comes across like honey or maybe a kind of stevia kinda of thing going on, but it seems to work given the fact the malt is absolutely nowhere to be found. All in all, pretty legit, but this confused maltsexual needs to make a decision whether it wants to be a burly wheaty guy or a supplicant tart beer.

BOURBON TASTY CRISPY

This is like peeling out in a TransAm on wet Massachusetts roads, the olfactory is all over the place with no regard for safety or control. you get that same pear and lemon aspect from the normal but oh wait, here comes waist size 46 BOURBON SMASHING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYTHING. It seriously takes anything delicate that was going on above and just turns things into this weird hybrid, like in a threesome when people start crossing defined boundaries. I don’t want my vanilla beans touched while I am working on this honeysuckle.

Winrar: REGULAR

skull these two bottles back to back and you will be like-

skull these two bottles back to back and you will be like-

Taste

REGULAR

This comes across as a pretty straightforward affair, albeit, all of those fruits and edible arrangements that I was promised at the outset turned into mushy wet biscuits, Grands rolls, honey, a bit of lemon ring, cracked black pepper, and a light musk like 8th graders in PE. I mean, my memory of 8th grade, I dont, I dont go to Junior Highs and- wait what

BOURBON BBQ

This is one of the worst saisons that I tried during this Saison marathon/month. I am not faulting this for being off style, because it is so off style it is like wearing plaid pants that don’t even go with themselves. I enjoyed the taste of the regular beer, but this bourbon interplay just ruins things for everyone. It is like that bully that takes the saison ball and tosses it onto the neighbor’s roof. It is the Biff of the saison world. Saisons usually exhibit a gentle flowery wheat profile, this is a burly saison that is tatted and converted the Islam after its long hard vanilla/caramel experience in the barrel. I end up fearing it more than loving it, just like all my other healthy relationships.

Winrar: Regular, the bourbon only hits me because it loves me so much.

I got two awesome saisons in the same box and was like-

I got two awesome saisons in the same box and was like-

Mouthfeel

REGULAR

This is drying but the residual sugars provide a base for this beer to try a few fakie stalls balancing between both sticky and drying at the same time. I don’t think that it executes either particularly well. If Hill Farmstead E. is the driest saison this side of Soy and Clos Preal is the stickiest juicer that we know, this tries to roll with both crews and gets jumped in by rival gangs.

BOURBON HONEY

This makes no mistakes about what is going on here, the bourbon is gonna dry your sweet zones out with booziness while the funk will keep hitting deep on the bitter zones. While is seems masochistic, I like being worked over by these two at the same damn time and the result actually reminds me of something like a weird Wheatwine like Syx or White Chocolate. If you are honestly down for a hybrid like that, you might dig this, this was my favorite part of this beer. It is like getting dome with your own retainer in, you are all like, “why do I still have my retainer in?”

WinRar: Bourbon Baby Back.

BOURBON OR REGULAR GIVE ME ALL YOUR SAISONS. Hungryhungry tickers.

BOURBON OR REGULAR GIVE ME ALL YOUR SAISONS. Hungryhungry tickers.

Drinkability

Regular

The carbonation is just outright annoying and would make even Hiver blush at the mousse levels that are presented. Even the head brewer of Upland Lambics would be like “hey guize, let’s calm down on the carb.” The result is you are constantly losing parts of the experience to massive burps, gassiness, and it takes up precious space in my saison hole (mouth, this time.) Ultimately, I did not want a ton of this simply because I was like those dudes on the Mucinex commerical, getting blown up like Ultros on FF3. If you get that reference, we are instafriends.

Bourbon Ginger

This is a tough one for me because I did not want to drink a lot of this due to the weird hybrid thing going on, but I feel like if the abv was higher and it was not marketed as a “refreshing” style, it would do well in the realm of a BA Tripel. If offered both, I think I would choose the regular version because the vanilla/oak/coconut aspects mixed with wheat and apple just are hard to reconcile, like Bieber and Selena, everyone is just ashamed you know about it.

OVERALL WINRAR

I would say if all things are considered, save the effort and seek out the Regular Mystic Saison, unless you like rubbing topical creams on your perineum, then go for the bourbon, the heat and tingling is exciting and new.

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Fantôme Saison D’Erezée – Été, Slaying that Elusive Ghost Whale.

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If you know your saisons, you better have your PK meter ready and Fantome should be on your radar. You may have had Hiver, maybe Noel, or even Printemps if you are a crafty ticker. Hats off to you in your ghost hunting efforts. In today’s review I slay the purple gear god tier boss of Ghost saisons: Fantome Ete. This hasn’t come to the United States in years, and even when this was released, it was incredibly limited. How do I know this? It has a 163 wants, 1 got ratio on a certain site and is as elusive as MewTwo to get your hands on. So in honor of Saison Marathon crushing the non-existent competition, let’s get your Masterballs our for today’s review

Had to lay out so many traps , and service so many Traps, to land this elusive phantasm.

Had to lay out so many traps , and service so many Traps, to land this elusive phantasm.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: This is a messy orange juice smoothie looking beast. I mean seriously, go look at the clarity on something like Surly Cynic and then compare it to this pulpy microcarbed slimer. There are fine microbubbles throughout with a wispy head that escapes as quickly as the ghost appeared. This looks like an Orange Julius that you get from the mall, and like the mall beverage, you can drink it while scamming for 9th graders. I am not here to tell you how to live your life. Dany Prignon was a little disappointed at the lack of mousse, but I was not disappointed because the mouthfeel was off the charts incredible, but more on that creamypie in a bit.

When a saison tastes like juice, who cares if you know cursive, pound that shit.

When a saison tastes like juice, who cares if you know cursive, pound that shit.

S: This is just Jamba Juice and Robecks demolished right into your glass. I remember going into this thinking that some serious pepper/clove was going to be present but it seriously just went orange pulp, apricot, tangelo, grapefruit (acidic though, not like mid alpha acid hops), and a crazy pineapple waft to it. There is a brett musk to it that is acidic as well, like rolling peaches in some old comic books, more bomb than Bullet Bill. I would kill several members of One Direction for another bottle of this.

T: This is incredibly lactic and comes out the gates swinging with a tart apple, high pulp orange juice, pineapple, and a sort of creamsicle vanilla finish to it that is just fantastic. I have never had another saison like this, it is incredibly turbid and messy, but its like an episode of You Cant Do That On Television where you secretly like being slimed by this juicy ghost. Get it on my face plz. If you have had Extra Sour, imaging that beer, with absolutely zero booziness to it, less dry, and more sticky and sour throughout. It is hard to make comparisons to this since it is so unique, but if you took Hill Farmstead Mimosa and added a puree of peaches to it and a smashed up Bisquick roll into it, this is what you would get. Absolutely amazing.

No Fantome Ete in USA? I THOUGHT THIS WAS MERICA.

No Fantome Ete in USA? I THOUGHT THIS WAS MERICA.

M: This is the creamiest saison that I have ever had. I can safely say that there is a serious yogurt aspect to this and the swallow has this sweet soy milk thing happening that compliments the fruit in an anechoic chamber of pleasure. Only ghosts can know the peace from this rustling. There is zero dryness to this and it is juice all the way throughout. If you have had one of those Jarritos sodas where they emulate the Orange and Vanilla popsicles, you will get an idea of what is going on here. This is bizarre and comes across like something that Funky Buddha would hazard, but it takes a mad genius in Soy, Belgium to inject that phantom.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and not only does not have any trace of alcohol to it, but it seriously tastes like it is good for you. I cannot fathom how there are no adjuncts in this beer because the fruit profile is so pronounced. In line with the other strange/rare reviews from Saison Marathon, I cannot stress highly enough that you need to lock this one down, which equates to a huge cock stomp to my readerbase, I know. If you can’t land this, dont spray liquid nitrogen on your labias and smash them with a hammer just yet, Dany Prignon and that ghost hunters may make more next year. We can only hope, otherwise bust out that Ouija Board.

When this ghost finally arrived on my doorstep I was all like

When this ghost finally arrived on my doorstep I was all like

Narrative: Coming this fall to SYFY NETWORK: Ghost Listings, a show where experienced Realtors are SUED by former clients for not disclosing that the house that they placed into escrow WAS AS HAUNTED AS SELENA GOMEZ’S VAGINA. “When we first moved in, I figured, oh it is Bloomington, Indiana, hearing people moaning is normal. When I saw the walls start to bleed, I was pretty sure that this wasn’t the garden variety midwest depression that I was told about.” A cursory glance around the turn of the century Craftsman home would not reveal any imperfections, but slowly Mr. Walmsly noticed that something wasn’t right. “Well our daughter started talking about how Purdue was a ‘pretty nice school’ you know, giving up on life, suicidal ideations, that sort of thing.” After living in the home for 3 months, Dave Walmsly discovered a copy of Alien Ant Farm’s “TRUant” in the attic and knew that no living thing could own such a thing. “I was pretty convinced that it was haunted at that point, no conscious being would put themselves through that.”

Our team caught up with Chase Eldridge, noted Indiana Real Estate mogul and discussed the transaction. “This paper just says, ‘this is a matter of GRAVE importance’ what is this, is anyone with your crew even an attorney?” he quipped to our investigative reporters, immediately hostile to our story. “I just don’t know what you are even saying, so in this document it says that the ghost from that house is suing me? Is that even possible, like who does the ghost have jurisdiction over, sorry guys I have a 2pm meeting I have to-” it was clear from his evasive maneuvers that HE HAD SOMETHING TO HIDE FROM THE GHOST LISTINGS CREW. We went out back in the property to the orange/lemon/apricot garden and saw a smoky white mist of collected particles, sobbing gently under the portico. “He just, he said I could stay, and then he started touching the tip of my tail, my ghost tail here, like in a jerking motion, slowly at first-” it was clear at that point that Chase Eldrige was not only a real estate deviant, he was a ghost fucker as well. Another case closed on GHOST LISTINGS.

THIS FALL ON SYFY.

GHOST LISTINGS

GHOST LISTINGS

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Hill Farmstead Juicy, Super Nintendo Sega Genesis, When my Cellar was Off-Shelf Man I Couldn’t Picture This

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Saison marathon wouldn’t be complete without tossing a new upstart that gets no fewer than 10 ISOs a day, the newest club banger out of those Vermont ballers. This is a wine barrel aged New Zealand hopped saison and continues that proud lineage of Norma/Ann/(HF X beer + wine barrel) that seems to consistently deliver. Any way, enough pageantry and Biggie lyrics, Saison Marathon needs to address NEW HIGHLY SOUGHT SAISONS.

Protip: you will probably not find this for sale at any bar. Don't ask. Don't be that guy.

Protip: you will probably not find this for sale at any bar. Don’t ask. Don’t be that guy.

Hill Farmstead Brewery
Vermont, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.40% ABV

A: This has a bit of a deeper bronze/amber aspect than most of the HF molly dropping saison raves that I am used to attending. This may be less of a light show, but still is a foam party nonetheless. The 375ml gushed harder than an overweight woman after a first date. After it finally settled down, the pour was more tame and left little lacing and seemed more watery than I expected, but perhaps the barrel aged treatments provide some working over to the residual sugars, maybe every beer doesn’t need to leave your glass looking like a haunted house, ever think of that?

This is pleasant, yet terrifyingly drinkable. Approachable, but haunting in execution.

This is pleasant, yet terrifyingly drinkable. Approachable, but haunting in execution.

S: This beer is incredibly interesting in the respect that it approaches citrus from both angles and just chinese finger traps your olfactory. You get this dry musky pineapple meets kiwi sort of fruit profile from the hops, but deep down you know it is that trickster alpha oils trying to lure you into its Econoline van. Then at the same time, you have traditional/acidic aspects more akin to “real” fruits like apricot and lemon from the saison and light lactic aspects. Both nose holes filled, just getting jumped in from rival citrus gangs, tatting juice tears on your cheek.

T: This is drier than I expected, but maybe we should cast our prejudices aside. Maybe being raised in a barrel gave it a predisposition for citrusy violence. “Nature vs. Nurture in the Farmhouse World” is the title of my forthcoming Woman’s Studies Thesis where I explain why there are not enough female eukaryotic in the saison industry. Enough fucking around, this tastes like a brett C profile at the outset, like looking through an old yearbook, trolling for digits, that musky paper taste when you lick her picture, those Tommy Hilfiger overalls in Geometry and when she would sit you could see- wait what. So you get brett and then a nice substantial wheat profile like a Hawaiian roll that is sweet but lingers with a flash of bready grist that subsides into this lemongrass and apricot jamba juice boost on the backend. There isn’t as much juice in this as expected largely due to the dry profile, but it ends up more refined as a result. Maybe that girl from Purdue wasn’t as hot as you had hoped, but she was a anthropology major.

Close your eyes, this saison might remind you of a certain transatlantic phantasm. Ethereal farmhouse spirits.

Close your eyes, this saison might remind you of a certain transatlantic phantasm. Ethereal farmhouse spirits.

M: This is nowhere near as dry as E. but presents a smattering of elements from a series of the other accomplished entries in the Hill Farmstead catalog. You get this honey aspect that reminds me of Anna, but a sort of substantial wheat aspect that pushes me closer to Arthur, and with loving dryness and light acidity, old Norma watches the fold with loving care, slowly knitting an afghan for the coming Vermont winter. It ends up being a Voltron of several good qualities but not overdoing it on any one area, like playing as Yoshi in Mario Kart. One thing that bothers me is when the uninitiated saison asshole seeks this out because “IS GOOD RATEING!” and complains 1) wut this isn’t sour or 2) saisons are a simple style, etc. Fortunately, if someone is actually drinking this, they likely know what they are in for.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable and I can see why people wanted multiples of such an exceptional beer. The ABV hides under the porch waiting for citrus mommy and hop daddy to stop fighting. The 375 is almost a punishing format for a beer that disappears this quickly. It would be like if Live Oak finally bottled their Hef and then used 25cl bottles. My room would look like a CRV depository. In sum, another amazing beer from HF that pushes another elegant etching into the arabesque of the saison world. I can’t think of an analog to seek out to emulate this, which is something noteworthy in the beer world.

If this were a larger format, I would be Gucci Mane faded all day long.

If this were a larger format, I would be Gucci Mane faded all day long.

Narrative: Turritopsis nutricula floated lazily in the Chardonnay medium. Barefoot Winery would have never suspected that the salt conditioning of their barrels would contain this prolific common rider, dancing lazily in the fluid. He was a resilient jelly, not insubstantial in grace or refinement. Some would argue that he was out of place in the lower end wine game, but he held a deep secret: NUTRICULA IS ETERNAL. I say that not in the Aristotelian way that he will remain in history forever, he was literally immortal. Whenever the changing tides of acidity or oak would affect him, he would embrace the citrus and float daintily down and respawn buds anew, changing his tissue to embrace the tannins in a new life. He was the lazarus of the depths of abject alcoholism, each time reborn with new strength. This diversity and power came from the polyp, for only by returning to life’s beginnings can one truly apprehend the beauty of a $7 bottle of wine, sometimes the negligent beginning of another life. Turritopsis would wait, elusive, ever changing, fortified by alcohol, oak, and juice; the Tuck Everlasting of the beverage world.

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McKenzie Brew House Saison Du Bois, Blanche Dubois Relying on the Courtesy of Strangers

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SAISON MARATHON HAS TO REVIEW RARE SAISONS SOMETIMES TOO.

This rare ass saison practically fell into my lap and I completely lucked out being able to trade for this. I had zero hopes of landing something like this with a bottle count in the magical sub-400 level. I have found that landing these ambrosial treats, no matter how whaleish, is almost always easier than dealing with that pesky BA Stout and BA Barleywine territory. I am also fucking things up for those of us covert saison lovers with all of these reviews but, anything is possible if 50 fucked Vivica.

Straight up BIC pen on the label, 372 bottles .rars to the fullest, monster monster tickers I got it.

McKenzie Brew House
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.00% ABV

A: This has a beautiful aspect to it and just the right amount of carbonation and overall this saison hits the aristotelian mean on all fronts, not too spicey, not too dry, not too over carbed, just a solid Mario ass saison. The result is an exceptional exercise in moderation that is noteworthy for that very reason. This looks like a apricot juice and has a cumulus nimbus fluffy white crown to it.

400 bottle release? I would hit that shit.

S: This goes for an incredibly herbal aspect to it that lays out the sod first and seeds up some beds of wet turf, finally closing with a sort of lemon zest meets yearbook musk for the noscope headshot. I really enjoy it, despite the fact that it doesn’t lean entirely towards the light acidity that I enjoy out of my saisons. If every saison were the same they would be IPAs and what is the fun in that shit? Let hopheads initiate beer n00bs, I don’t have time for that shit. This is big boy beer bangers, more snare in my headphones.

The saison is a graceful, award winning style that is always a bit funky.

T: This follows the nose with a dryness and herbal aspect to it that reminds me almost of an herbal fernet branca sort of vibe that immediately gives way to that acidic aspect that I was looking for IN THE FIRST PLACE. The lactic aspects were not pronounced on the nose but then they lazily show up with oranges and tangelo in tow, imparting a post menopausal dryness that only Glenn Close could replicate. This finishes with a sort of chamomille aspect to it that is refreshing and relaxing at the same time.

M: No shocker here, you can’t snort rails of Earl Grey all day and not expect some dryness. Hell, if you rub darjeeling on your eurethra and go to town, you will last for hours. This saison is much the same way, herbal but provides that refreshing blast to keep your coming back for another drying sip. The light acidity gives this a finish like biting into an Anjou pear, straight up revitalizing.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, but you should have already picked that up from the foregoing. There’s this sort of clarity to the complicated elements that is united under the wheat and brett character. This is another one of those reviews where I tell you to seek out a 300 bottle release and end up looking like a twatwaffle, but, seek it out. Get on that grizzy.

Saisons might not be the most desired style of beer, but they are amazing on the inside.

Narrative: Dig, oxidize, seed, cover, aerate, hydrate, harvest; it was the same thing day in and day out at Sodtech Inc. The contingency of scientists and resident honduran lawn technicians worked away busily harvesting new strains of lusher and lusher grasses. The recent strain of fescue was redolent with bluebell and felt like those velour tracksuits that Persian housewives are wont to wear. Somehow, Adam Walters felt that this existence left something to be desired. Sure he patented an azure seedling that was hydroefficient, but ever since Claire left the lab, he felt a deep dryness in his heart. He was the head of his Botany class and revolutionized his hydroponics seminar but he could not forget her flaxen locks, the way she would add ammonium nitrate to the bedding solution. She was pure grace with gloves that smelled of Barefoot Chardonnay. Alas, perhaps being a grass lab provocatuer was not the most efficient way to court the ladies, knee deep in animal dung, thinking about fertilization that could have been.