Tag Archives: saison

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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.

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Fremont Brewing LAMB Saison, Gwen Stefani was not hurt in the brewing of this beer

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SAISON WEEK TAKES ON UNDERKNOWN SAISONS.

Fremont Brewing kicks out underground jams that don’t get much play in the clubs but they tear up the freestyle battle scene. KDS was amazing, BBomb continues to be amazing and fly under the radar of most. I just pray that Washington traders still keep hooking up these gems on the DL. Saison week keeps chugging along with this interesting take on my favorite style.

Oh my goodness, oh my damn, Fremont Brewing, they going LAMB.

Fremont Brewing Company
Washington, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.50% ABV

A: huge carbonation even with a gentle pour, light straw color to bright yellow at the edges, huge 4 finger head in a pint glass with thick lacing. It starts to toe that Upland sour line where you are like, alright enough already carbonation. It is like an interloping stepdad where you are just like “get the fuck out of here, no one was talking to you, you aren’t my real carb.”

pop open dank sticky saisons, enjoy that honey bath.

S: smells of honey, apple, bright bouquet with sweet finish, there’s a really sweet aspect to this that almost leaves the saison building to pursue a career in Adult Belgian Golden modeling. Just don’t tell this lamb’s parents.

T: This has a bright sweet honey taste on the initial palate with a biscuity middle that abruptly finishes, leaving you wanting another taste, aftertaste does not linger, a one two punch of bright then dry flavors. The citrus hops bring up the final flavor with a very subtle compliment. Overall, this is just too much honey in my honey pot, things be all sticky icky ooh wee. Maybe Pooh Bear would be all up in this mix but to be, it just generates too many bothers.

Sometimes the magnitude of the treat is too much to bear.

M: It is very light on the palate with just enough maltiness to sustain the drying hopes and sweet notes. three very nuanced flavors held in a delicate balance and very fleeting, no coating in the mouth making it an easy beer to drink quickly if not for the substantial carbonation. The problem that arises with this beer is that with the C&C format you are hoping for some crazy musk, funk, or even some Brett C up in the mix but the whole funk infection aspect is pretty restrained. I want my saisons in a sex swing, not boring Episcopalian Missionary position.

D: This is incredibly drinkable in a variety of conditions, go out work on your transam and class it up with this, serve this inside on a rainy day and it will impart the crispness of the air, if not cost prohibitive, a great session beer, despite the 6.5% abv. I don’t think this is exactly affordable though, so it might not be a candidate for absolute combo chains.

Whenever I pop open a dank saison, my face be all like-

Narrative: ::Ding dong:: he’s here already? I havent even finished me eye lin- ah but who cares, he’s so easygoing that he wont even notice that I only flatironed my top chunky layers. His bright blonde locks, cool disposition, who am I to keep him waiting. “Sorry I’m no rea-” oh well that’s a new bit of panache, a step with a ball turn into the marble foyer and he leans lazily upon the ballustrade. “-eady.” His light breezy air is welcoming but not cloying, you exhale and turn around closing the door, noticing the sunlight cascading through an eddy of dust particles dancing on a sunbeam and- he’s gone. But you aren’t worried, you have 11 more ounces of this fellow, to lithely waste away this verdant afternoon. Ah he brought honeycombs, your favorite treat, what a supple little lamb.

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Block 15 Ferme De La Ville Provision, Two Saisons Might be Too Much Love for the PnW, but it is warranted

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SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS PACIFIC NORTH WEST SAISONS.

California simply does not do things like this. I love the Bruery but Saison Rue doesn’t fall within the same realm as this incredibly refreshing banger that slams beats by the pound. Saisons with a nice musk to them are already so deep within my wheelhouse that I have to move other wheels to…access…those wheels. Anyway, I wasn’t set on reviewing this beer since I already hollered at the PnW in my Fremont Brewing Lamb review, but this is too damn good not to review. I have loved everything that Block 15 makes and who can forget my old review of Block 15 Imagine Anyway, I guess saison week is gonna keep on rolling, file your complaints in the top right corner.

Oh snap, my block is turning into a Ferme 15.

Block 15 Brewery/Restaurant
Oregon, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.90% ABV

A: The appearance is a bit thinner than I am accustomed to with a deep gold aspect to it like this bad ass locket I bought from Target for my 6th grade girlfriend. I mean, my girlfriend in 6th grade, I…I am not hooking up with 12 year olds. The lacing is minimal and looks soapy and clean. The carbonation is straight up Goldilocks status, not too much, not too little. I must fault it for not having that ugly turbid aspect that Fantome and Hill Farmstizzle generates but, to each his own I suppose.

Please tell my cellar, I am a saison lover.

S: This beer has a delicious grape and pear tart aspect to it, deep chardonnay, ripe melon, and a musky baseball card sort of aspect to it. It would be like if someone that was hella into Crossfit was also into produce a huge nerd. Oh wait, REDUNDANT DEFINITIONS.

T: This is incredibly crisp and reminds me of a “less dry” version of E. If Hill Farmstead E. was the Sahara Desert, this is somewhere like oh, Barstow. There is a light sweetness at the outset and conveys a light honey and chardonnay white grape that finishes with a crisp fjui apple skin aspect to it. The whole beer is as refreshing as a John Stamos movie but as fulfilling as a Jesse and the Rippers album.

This beer is incredibly drinkable, it will get you exploring things.

M: Again, this is incredibly dry, but toes the precipice of lambic and super chardonnay and ratchets it back before it spills over the edge. It gives with a light honey aspect but after you swallow, the barrel and grape come back to linger and remind you of brut champagne or some baller ass Bartels and James. If you have a discerning ass mid-30’s woman to impress, or a particularly classy 14 year old to court, this will do the trick just fine.

D: This picks up the ball where E. fumbles and delivers a light fruit and gentle brett aspect to it that balances out the incredible dryness of the chardonnay. Ultimately, the entire beer comes together in a remarkable way that reminds me less of a traditional saison and starts to toe the line to a straight up American Wild Ale along the lines of Brute or Sanctification. Some people can’t get on board with this because it is too dry but those saison haters and exit stage left, everything they need in a box to the left. Those are also the types of people posting “Horses and Bayonets” and “Binders Full of Women” shit and feeling relevant so I don’t concern myself with them.

This beer is like a merger of familiar old things and enticing new things.

Narrative: “His resume was just so impressive, quadlingual, volunteer in Burma, summa cum laude from Vassar…” “Yeah summa cum garbage, he has the worst people skills I have ever seen, how is he going to sell anything? He’s just so…abrasive.” It wasn’t Dan Mikelson’s demeanor that was offputting, in fact he was attractive to the untrained person. He would even seem exotic and interesting, until he opened his mouth and began talking about Jimmy Johnson’s points in the Nextel cup. Most customers would sigh and move lithely from the digital camera section until he followed them intentionally into the digital printers section, and continue to harangue them with tales of last years bocce ball tournament. “Look at that, that canadian couple just requested an item outright and he convinced them that they werent going to use it to its full potential, I dont care how attractive he is, you gotta fire this guy.” “But sir…think about if someone get’s hurt his resume says he is a registered RN and” “I dont care, his resume is a lie, he is a jerk and I want him OUT OF MY OFFICE DEPOT?! YOU HEAR ME?!”

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Swamp Head Brewery, Saison Du Swamp, It is Harvest Time in the Swamp I GUARANTEEEEEE-

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SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS BOTTLES THAT ARE HARD AS SHIT TO OPEN.

SAISON WEEK FORGES ONWARD. I got this beer in an amazing box donated by Taylor Cox, big thanks for this elusive gem. The first thing that was confusing as a David Lynch movie was the label on the beer, a sticker really, that instructed me how to open the beer. It is caged and corked. I can usually figure these things out, but no, not this time. To open this you seriously have to uncage it, take a blade, cut the cork in half, then use a wine opener to pull the half cork out. I am not shitting you these are the directions right on the bottle. So I got this open finally and shared it with some hippies at the Topange Earth Day festival. Let’s get earthy.

Apparently in the everglades it is common to have a knife and a corkscrew when enjoying beers. Refined people, those swamp dwellers.

Swamp Head Brewery & Tasting Room
Florida, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.60% ABV

A: This beer is a light yellow, straw meets light gold with a faint amber hue in the center, lightens around the edges, moderate carbonation, 1/2 finger head with some lacing lacing. Let me clarify, this beer was an IED at first and detonated with foam, like all these other saisons, this style has fucking self esteem issues and always overcompensates at first.

Put the walez in the glass.

S: There a sweet honey notes with apricot and pear and peach overtones, very crisp, the added hops are faint and overpowered by the lemon zest. This seems like a standard affair, if not a bit wheatier, ya feel me? Daddy gotta get that grist, hustling is a habit, saisons gotta have it.

T: the hops are lightly drying at the outset and followed almost immediately by sweet biscuit honey notes. the tastes have a very seamless interplay, which adds complexity to the usually simple dry refeshing saison. The hops aren’t too aggressive, but present – it’s more of a Belgian pale ale like Petrus meets saison rather than an standard belgian offering. The faintness and/or masking from the dryness of the saison makes it difficult to classify the hops, certainly nothing with ultra-high alpha acids such as tomahawk or warrior, but a welcome addition to old tradition. I must comment on the lovely funk and musk bouquet that takes a bit of a backseat to the chewy wheat profile, but is a welcome addition.

No one will ever find out that I really don’t even drink beer. NOBODY.

M: the mouthfeel is a tiny bit creamy, nothing too overwhelming with the coating but still refreshing and crisp. it welcomes warmer weather and/or working on a TransAm. It is not filling and the initial creaminess subsides pretty quickly into a thinner nature, making the next sip welcomed sooner rather than later. The crispness ultimately reminds me of biting into a Fuji apple, it should be noted that Japanese people will likely never try this saison, though. Sorry Japan, no swamps for you.

D: this is where this beer shines above all. The drinkability gives mundane pilsners and lagers a run for their money, while retaining complexity and great flavor. It is a shame that this is a seasonal and relatively expensive (I am assuming somewhere around $20?) it would easily join the ranks of great warm weather beers. Like the cadre of other saisons, this is a versatile beast that can run in a variety of circles and can serve as a gateway drug to harder belgian drugs or stand on its own for its mild complexity.

At first you don’t know what to make of it, then you realize how awesome this beer is and how badly you need it.

Narrative: “Carrot. Zucchini. God is that all there is? Vegetable medley every Wednesday, lasagna on Thursdays.” She lamented idly while cutting away the vegetables and her Wednesday afternoon. The granite counters were not pedestrian, but nothing to write home about. The routine provided stability yet- “Why hello…” her eyes strayed as a festive Guatemalan man began skimming her pool. “I don’t recall seeing him before” She watched him, pep within his step remove dead frogs from the skimmer basket, an artful spin while he skimmed the weeping willow leaves from the surface of the pool. “Such grace, finding majesty in the menial” her eyes glazed over as she startled herself upon cutting to the end of an overly ripe zucchini. “How could he add such panache to seemingly uninteresting tasks?” The spring heat seemed to lean oppressively upon the task of the ceiling fan, clicking under the stress of its laborious gyrations. “HE FINDS SUCH PLEASURE IN THE MENIAL” Menial to some, a festive retreat to others, he removes the dead leaves of fall with aplomb, casting their black vestiges into the soil. “Senora, la piscina esta limpia” she exhales and pushed the vegetables into a united medley, “work on joyful Pan, the season of the swamp is upon us.”

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Russian River Erudition Saison, OH YOU DIDN’T KNOW RUSSIAN RIVER FUCKS WIT FARMHOUSES?

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SAISON MARATHON REVIEWS DRAFT ONLY SAISONS TOO.

I was pretty shocked when someone busted this one out. Not only is this beer not bottled, it is very rarely on draft either. At first when he told me that he had Erudition, I cocked my head back like Ed Lover like “come on son.” But when that swingtop flipped open, I knew some Napa shit was going down, some straight up musky farmy hoppy goodness was unleashed. Thanks to Bombadil for this one, or his friend more properly. Let’s get it.

The most ironic thing ever is when people get dreezed and mispronounce this beer’s name, HOW APROPOUGH.

Russian River Brewing Company
California
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 7.15% ABV

A: This looks suspiciously like pale and crystal malts what with that light carbonation and the deep gold hues. I want some murky farmhouse hand giving me the business, not this clear, radiant beer. Where’s the mess? I am further suspicious because I am almost certain that this saison was pasteurized, which is almost a deal breaker for me, but if you can grit your teeth and bear it, dig in and proceed.

YO SAISON CHOSE ME

S: Well I am glad that they did not go all Three Floyds and hop the shit out of this, this is actually dead on for the style and smells like belgian esters, light yeast profile, some cracked white pepper, banana peel, and some light coriander. Again, my bitch ass wants more funk but oh well, I will settle for a clean archetype I GUESS. People complain about how boring the Accord is, but then they go and buy them by millions every year so it must be working, so sometimes the expected route is the most preferred.

T: This carries the normal aspects of the traditional saison and pretty much carries a paint by number approach with some light wheat, yeasty esters, some clove and light lemon citrus. There is no brett presence to this beer, which is kinda a letdown but you can’t boo a NASCAR event when someone doesn’t get in a horrible crash but, you sometimes hope for it.

If you merk a growler of this, be prepared to call Bank of America and/or the local authorities.

M: This is incredibly light and stays close to the book in almost every aspect. It isn’t as crisp as something like Cisco Saison, not as dry as Saison Vautor, and not as turbid as any offering from Hill Farmstead, in the end it is hard to really hang my hat on this or really knock it. I guess being unoriginal is a vice but when it is this traditional, maybe I JUST AM BEING A CURMUDGEON. This is saison week and the stakes have never been this high. THINK OF THE FARMHOUSE CHILDREN.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable but for the wrong reasons. This finishes too clean in a way and doesn’t linger at all, the lack of a resonant note makes it come across as something from the Belgian single or golden realm almost due to the drinkability and simplicity to the execution. Then again, Super Meatboy sold like a billion copies on Xbox live, so maybe people enjoy the simplicity of a pedestrian existence.

FIREWORKS: this beer does not evoke them.

Narrative: Waylon Brannings ate the same tuna fish sandwich for lunch, wore the same mauve suit on Thursdays, and was the paradigm of predictability. However, he was the best analyst at Association for the Study of Peak Oil and Gas. Some would say that he is forgettable, he would sharply reply that ASPOG is the most influential organization supporting the “peak oil” theory, meaning that future oil supply will be much less than commonly expected, and he will make sure that you know all about it. Specialized to a fault and forgettable at worst, his mahongany shoes click the floor metronomically while he works at the whiteboard. It is always interesting to meet someone new, however, most people forget old Waylon after he leaves the room. That doesn’t make his mission any less important: To study depletion, taking due account of economics, demand, technology and politics of natural gas. Most people wont dislike him, they simply wont remember him.

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New Glarus Thumbprint Saison, Wisconsin Get Its Hand on The Farmhouse Style and Straight Up Fumbles

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SAISON MARATHON SOMETIMES REVIEWS MEDIOCRE SAISONS.

Let me say this at the outset, this is not a BAD saison. In fact, it is dead on and falls directly in line with what you would expect from an American take on the Belgian style. That is the whole problem, it is too predictable and ultimately is the most frustrating type of review to write because it is too conformist, too gentle, for some what would not even register as a bad thing, however, in the realm of top tier heavy hitters that we are addressing, this comes off as more of a sessionable belgian golden with aspects of saison interplay. Enough bitchassness and complaining, let’s get on this grizzy.

New Glarus always delivers, just sometimes not to my tastes.

New Glarus Brewing Company
Wisconsin, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.50% ABV

A: This is a beautiful beer, let’s just get that out of the way. The carbonation is not excessive and the lacing is pretty like nana’s doilie collection. There is a radiant golden hue to it that almost reminds me of a Belgian Tripel with some deep gold at the center. It looks refreshing and substantial at the same time like a Charlie Kaufman screenplay.

This is not an exceptionally dramatic saison.

S: This is where they bust out the cookie cutter and makes it fall in line with the ultra-predictable saisons and borderline, dare I say it, Hennepin levels. If we are looking for some crazy lactic element or a crazy blast of funk, this is not where you will hang your hat. You get a nice cornbread waft from it, a light spice, some very faint lemon rind, some banana but more like the yellow runts type of banana and finally a light grassiness.

T: This follows the nose almost congruently and presents the wheat and chewy bready aspect, some recumbent light spice, and closes with a honey meets sod sort of execution. Again, this is not bad at all, but you drink it, the glass is empty, and you carry on with your stamp collection. Nothing to really say about the lingering aspects or any level of ruminating necessary. For some people, the lack of impression might be the hallmark of a refreshing farmhouse ale. For me, this just kinda comes across like a John Hughes movie that isn’t memorable but is temporarily uplifting.

This is a sweet loving beer, but it might not executing things exactly as you hoped.

M: This has a light chewiness to it and a lingering honey finish to it but the refreshing watery aspect is the overriding aspect to this beer. I am not sure if this is sold in 4 packs but it seems to be less of a special occasion saison and more of a “I fucking hate my daughter’s dance recitals” sort of every day beer. In this aspect, it is phenomenal. Usually when I am opening a saison, it is caged and corked and feels like a substantial event, but this beer makes it more of an approachable glory hole where you don’t feel bad for wasting it.

D: If you missed it, this is exceptionally drinkable, but not necessarily the best saison evar. It is kinda like that person you rent Redbox movies with and make out with but know that there’s no lasting potential in this one. Wisconsin fanboys might lose their shit over this appraisal, but seriously go drink Squatters Fifth Element and tell me those two are comparable “but they are totally different beers” yeah I know, and I enjoy one more than another, zero fucks given.

Don’t think about it so hard, take it, put it in your face hole.

Narrative: Julia was never really tall for her age, or exceptionally intelligent for her grade. She not an unremarkable 5 feet 5 inches, shoulder length brown hair, enjoyed baking and flagging innocuous items on Pintrest. When she went to clubs, she would order a vodka soda and keep her composure and remain poised in an unnoteworthy Bebe dress. No one would fault Julia for not taking risks, some would applaud her conservative presentation. Her favorite book is 1984 and she enjoyed watching One Tree Hill. No one is saying that there is anything wrong with that. Somehow, on those lingering coffee dates, all of her courtesans would secretly long for something more deviant, something funky, acidic, or a hateful streak to compliment their own shortcomings. She was too supplicant for the general public for the simple reason that she was just what the world needed.

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Cisco Brewing, Island Reserve: Saison Farmhouse Ale – MA has some fertile farms

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SAISON MARATHON CHUGS ALONG LOVINGLY.

Cisco recently killed it at GABF and Lady of the Woods has been received as a crowd pleaser by all accounts. I have enjoyed quite a few of their sours but remain relatively uninitiated with their other beers. Since this is a saison marathon, I could not rob you of this unappreciated (underknown?) gem. With their strong pedigree of sours, I expected this to go off the rails into a whole new realm. This did not disappoint and actually presented itself as one of the best american saisons that I have had in recent memory, straight up lemon lime on the funky tip. Highly recommended.

Having an island saison kinda makes me wonder about the farmhouse cred, maybe granary cred but do islands usually have a farmhouse on them? WHO KNOWS.

Cisco Brewers Inc.
Massachusetts, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 6.00% ABV

Label jazz:
Saison Farmhouse was fun to brew and is fun to drink. Buckwheat, oats, and rye fermented with Brettanomyces and a Saison yeast in a 50 hectoliter french oak cask. Herbs and spices grown here at the brewery replaced most of the hops. On it’s way into package it was treated to a host of microflora to create additional character over time.

A: This was a touch darker than I expected but by no means is offputting, it presents an amber and almost verges on the realm of the bronze in execution. Much like all the other saisons we have been seeing, the carbonation is intense and you have to go play a round of Borderlands and wait for it to subside. There is a nice webbing of lacing and spotty cling on the glass. I enjoy that whipped up lemon merengue, reminds me of when my alcoholic babysitter would let me mix soaps from under the sink together and breathe in the fumes.

I would hit this on the reg.

S: This smells amazing and goes a completely acidic lemon lime path very similar to last year’s old label Fantome Printemps, if you don’t know what I am talking about, I mean this:

Last year’s batch, Fantome Printemps

not to be confused with this year’s new label batch:

2012 Printemps THE RETURN

Anyway, you get a deep sprite and sierra mist with some carpet sample book that has been left in the rain. There’s a fresh grassiness to the finish and the whole things just reminds me of a fresh rain bodywash or something. Sure there’s some light breadiness on the backend up the whole beer is executed magnificiently, relative to my 11 year old palate.

T: This has an incredibly crisp apple skin at the outset with some white grape and bisquik biscuit in the middle providing some chewiness. There is a light clove aspect but largely the juicy aspects make this toe almost toward the wild ale realm ala Ithaca Brute. The cask and brett in this give it a fantastic finish that reminds me of an IMPROVED VERSION of Sanctification. I said it. Cisco killed it on this one, someone send me more plz.

It took hours of extensive saison research to reach these findings.

M: This is incredibly crisp and has a sort of chardonnay aspect to it with a brackish oakiness on the backend that makes you drill this like a negligent dentist. The fruit character and wine cooler aspect also make this approachable for all of your underaged sorority friends that you are trying to so desperately to impress. Get John Locke on them and disaow epistemological actions that you cannot confirm you performed. Feided.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable despite being drier than people’s eyes after watching Battleship. I enjoyed it thoroughly and it came across like kind of a hybrid between Printemps and Hill Farmstead E. in execution and drinkability, enough pumping up the unstoppable hubris that is Cisco Brewing, they did a hell of a job.

This beer is so good it is almost inappropriate.

Narrative: Skylar Jergens had hit his writers block. Well to be proper, it was a creativity block. Being the lead creative director at Mountain Dew entailed a mountain of responsibilities that he was heretofore able to manage. A quick glance around his spacious Pepsi Co office could evidence his series of achievements with high fructose corn syrup and water. There was his platinum bottle award for the inimitable Mt. Dew Code Red, the Pop Award of Distinction from the Midwest Conference for his Baja Blast, and who could forget his integral part in Halo Mountain Dew, brewed exclusively for gamers complicated dietary needs. Skylar tapped his pen on the legal pad and looked out the window onto the Missoula city skyline and wondered what combination of water and artificial sugars would be his next masterpiece. He idly rolled a tangelo in front of him and it suddenly hit him “HAY, WATER, INFECTED LIMES, AND ORANGE JUICE.” He clicked his Pentec pen and furiously began writing out the recipe for his new Mountain Dew magnum opus: Farmhouse Burst.

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Wyerbacher Seventeen Saison. Orange Peel Lemon Peel Grapefruit Peel- NOW YOU KNOW IT IS REAL

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Man there is a ton going on with this beer, yes I know, yet another saison from Pennsylvania. Wahwahwah, “my state did not get enough love” well maybe your state and my liver have a disconnect. I will get to every saison…EVENTUALLY. Ok the first thing that raised my eyebrow is the label, this shit has more going on than a Bruce Gillian movie. “Brewed with orange peel, lemon peel, grapefruit peel and pink peppercorns.” That is quite a bit of things, and usually when there is that much going on my bullshit detectors go off and wonder “what happened to the base beer that they needed all this shit?” But I approach everything with a Fair and Balanced approach, like Fox News, so let’s get this shit.

It is like Sunny D made in a farmhouse. Purple drank omitted.

Weyerbacher Brewing Co.
Pennsylvania, United States
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 10.50% ABV

A: Holy hell, just take a look at that, it looks like straight up Tampico or Sunny D. I have seen my fair share of orangey orange but this is dead on and pours almost like a wild ale or a gueuze in appearance. There is zero carbonation, zero lacing, zero head: this beer is not fucking around. Maybe the 10.5% abv had something to do with that, but it looks more like a hardass who just posts up on the wall at school dances and doesn’t even like Tony Rich Project. Saisons are supposed to be relaxing, this beer makes me feel tense and worry about the state of my farm.

This saison just goes apeshit and ends up being unimpressive as a result. Chill out bro.

S: Holy fucking fusel. This sets its high octane foot forward more like a poorly integrated belgian tripel and lets you know that it is here you rape your nostrils and your mouth is next. The peppercorn and clove spice is there but it is like a bunch of Liliputians pulling down the hugh abv monster. I don’t think that this is de facto supposed to smell like this, Fantome Extra Sour had 10% abv and drank like a sweet summer day. This just smells boozy and completely off style for something I am supposed to be able to drink in a Big Gulp cup while I take my ex-wife to the clinic.

T: This continues the painful narrative from the last section and busts open your lip with a hot booziness at the outset that subsides into an artificial tasting citrus element and a weird lemon pledge sort of finish to it. Like a naive 14 year old girl, I keep returning to this loser at 19 year old saison boyfriend. The citrus elements are there to balance out all of the madness going on with the booze, lemon, and Pine Sol aspects going on in the background. It is like when your “most sober” friend stands at the door to talk to the cops, but smells like gin and rocket fuel. Everyone’s parents are getting called.

Because I love saisons, I would reluctantly accept this again. Discretely.

M: This is sticky and sweet, then boozy and hot, then dry and awkward. It is basically like high school sex. If this is a saison, then I can hang up the saison mantle and retire knowing that I have been dunked in the River of Styx and reborn. I suspect that they made this, added a fuckload of produce and then Mr. Weyerbacher (or whatever) was like “alright, someone’s ass is on the line, we tried to do a saison like Avery, now we have this” and then did dude was like “hey my housekeeper knows a produce guy (potentially racist)” and then the added some pepper.

D: This is not at all drinkable, I mean, unless you just got into beer and high ABV still gives you a fat chub, but why would Dogfish Head patrons read this site? I am not stoked to finish this 12oz bottle and I sure as shit would not be jonesing to put up some awesome bottles to land moar of this. I guess if you wanted to teach your kids not to drink saisons like Uncle Donald did with the triplets, you would serve them this and they’d get hella sick and avow to stay away from farmhouse ales. That is what this beer is for, teaching baby ducks a lesson.

Don’t crack this open expecting any amazing surprises.

Narrative: In between harvests, Jacob Miller sat in lower Harlem peddling for change. His ill fitting overalls and straw hat were almost anachronistic in the area. He would clank his scythe against the sidewalk and scream obscenities about tilling the land and crop rotation, much to the dismay of the passing masses. He was an outspoken farmer, seeking to ride the coattails of farms he had not tilled, wanting harvests he had not planted. Jacob had a thing or two to learn about the gentle agrarian ways. It wasn’t always about being a loud asshole and pestering people by convincing them that he at one time was somehow involved in agriculture. Most people questioned whether he was a real farmer at all, particularly since the nearest farm was nowhere near Manhattan. One day Jacob found a worn out kazoo and began to rail at onlookers with hit base pageantry. None present were impressed. Splattering mud all over Tommy Hilfiger overalls does not make you an artisan farmer and being loud and overbearing hardly helps one’s cause.

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Fantome Clos Preal Batch 2, Ghosting Harder than a Terran Nuke

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You ever watch a Megadeth video and have no idea what the fuck is going on? That is kinda what is going on with this fantasm. The ornate packaging is so high handed for the amazing artisinal fantome saisons that you are accustomed to, but you feel special. This was only available in Belgium as far as I know and the hefty 10% abv caught my eye. I love this brewery and this style, so let’s see if Fantome continues to exorcise the dead in today’s review:

Ghosting harder than a Terran nuke.

Brasserie Fantôme
Belgium
Bière de Garde | 10.00% ABV

A: This is as fantome as it gets, nice eggshell carbonation that releases the crypt with billowing white foam. The cork is released as willingly as a Mexican parking ticket, with less corruption. The golden hues have a cloudy brassy tone to them that keep things in the saison cut. Black strap you know what that’s for.

At the outset, I am not sure what it is that I am celebrating with this bottle. RIDE THAT GHOST YOU PUSSY.

S: This has a strange waft at first, not the imperial apples and hay that I was expecting, no this beer has gone down a different road altogether. There is some citrus but it is mostly just funk to the max. I am talking incense dealer at Venice Beach levels of funk. There’s this musk that is kinda like the potted plants aisle at Home Depot and a rich acidity on the backend similar to zested lemons.

T: This is incredibly dry from the outset with a pithy citrus aspect to the finish. The bready notes work to mask the abv amiably. This starts going into a strange new realm of non-saison that I am not confident that I agree with. I wanted more of the citrus aspects, but instead I was treated to a fennel extravaganza, pushing fox tails into my gullet. Unless I am getting bullied by some poor Bolivian kid at a Fresno elementary school, I don’t need to eat weeds.

These saison ghosts are the best ghosts.

M: This is drier than your Statistic teacher’s sense of humor and lingers just as long. There’s this acrid assault on the gumline that borders on brackish and even Noel Coward thinks this is a bit salty. As this beer warms the abv starts waking up like a Snorolax and, if you’ve ever woken one of those up, you know shit goes off the rails real quick. There’s this charred wheat aspect that makes an entire 750ml tough to finish to myself, but maybe I was meant to share this. Maybe I shouldn’t be such a selfish asshole maybe?

D: This is too big to bee drinkable, too rare to be opened often, too ornate to take places without people clowning the shit out of you, and if you drank this while working on an IROC Camaro, people would seriously question your political affiliation. This was pretty solid and I love Dany Prignon, but just didn’t knock it out of the park for me. I have heard that Extra Sour is the second coming and resurrection of Ann’s ghost, so I would love to pursue this saison love to its logical conclusion. I will keep you P(gh)OSTED!

This mischievous ghost will hit you when you least expect it

Narrative: The first day of 9th grade was especially trying for Thomas Caraway. Tommy Hilfiger overalls were not only dated, but also a wildy unacceptable fashion decision in a world of waiting derision. “HEY FARMER TOMMY WHY DON’T YOU SU-” He learned to tune them out and calmly stride to Geometry with the cool poise of a 14 year old who just wasted $120.00 of his parents money. It wasn’t that he was a bad kid, he was sweet enough, it was just a question of leadership. He wasn’t a follower, but he set himself out as more of a chairman without a board. Thomas was a bold innovator in a market that abhorred change and friction. He pulled out his iphone and began to ironically play Puddle of Mudd around other kids in the cafeteria, much to their chagrin. When he was sweet, it was irascible, when he was bitter, it went too far. He was a strange kid but, you never could really dislike him for it. However, his bucket hat justifiably got struck in the genitals on not an isolated occasion.

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Fantome Magic Ghost, The Perfect Beer to Enjoy on Easter; Hereticale Statements Abound

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Errybody knows that I love Fantome. I once almost shanked some school children in Boyle Heights for a Fantome stemware glass before I realized it was really just a Fruitopia bottle. That raised even more questions as to why people in Boyle Heights were still drinking outdated ass soft drinks, alas I digress. This is an amazing beer that has been chugging along on the hype train for gosh knows how long, now I finally get to try some of this mutagen and take the Pepsi challenge.

No Easter jokes about Divine resurrection, please.

Brasserie Fantôme
Saison / Farmhouse Ale | 8.00% ABV

A: Holy hell, this is one of the most interesting beers that I have ever laid my eyes on. Seriously, look above. Aside from March 17th, when was the last time you opened a bottle and your saison was as green as Battletoad pubes? This is incredibly beautiful in every aspect, the crisp white bubbles are smaller than my business acumen and the green hue is vibrant like popping a bottle of high class ecto-cooler. I can’t get over how radiant this beer is, seemingly offputting, yet amiable at the same time. The lacing is minimal but, who cares, if you popped this out at any party, people would think you have a carbonated appletini and you’d finally strike up a conversation with that high school junior you have been eyeing for AGES.

With this beer, at first you have no idea what is going on, then you win the game.

S: There’s that Fantome ghost again, fucking things up for the better, imparting musk, hay, apple, honey sweetness, a crisp pear, some fresh honeydew, and an amazing apple note that just begs for springtime like a Parolee awaiting a Good Behavior hearing.

T: It was never made clear that the Secret of the Ooze was, but I am sure that Fantome had something to do with Tokka and Rahzar. This mutagen has a fantastic saison body to it with a light wheat aspect that is the underpinning for a light kiwi tartness and some serious green tea action. I am talking Hipsters in summer green tea, the hardcore shit. The spices don’t muddle this affair and they serve as a percussive element to the din of the core saison. If this is 8% abv, then send the kids to bed, shit is about to get ruined in your house real fast. There is zero alcohol taste in this beer nd the fruit and tea interplay almost makes this feel good for me after and equally destructive P90x orkout getting a sick swole on, deep saison pump n0x shred on the dorsi tip.

This amazing saison seems like a novelty act until it pounds the shit out mouth, left all green teethed.

M: The mouthfeel is like a frothy waterpark in some hot inland city. It is exciting, foamy, mildly remniscience of a septic element, but ultimately all the pre-teen piss in your mouth can’t ruin the experience, the beer I mean. It washes away clean with an herbal aspect that lingers longingly like that girl you shouldn’t have made out with in the first place but she works at GNC so you still get sick deals on metabolic enhancers. That sort of clinging. Mutual love predicated on usury.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, and I mean that in the scope of the other already vaporous Fantome beers, not beers at large. I know a beer is good when I start contemplating what massive whales (TSHYEAH RIGHT) that I have to obtain more bottles of this. Ultimately no one wants my tawdry ass wares so this may be the last time that I get to taste the sweet succor of this magic ghost. However, seek this out if you are in a state not inundated with beer lovers that swoop up all my sexy ghosts. Shit is PHANTASMTIC.

You know what this would pair well with? Arby's. You know why? Because this beer would taste amazing with damn near any solid food. Even Gamer Grub.

Narrative: “Yeah, here she is, the old Barrow’s Theater, not much to look at but, hey with a little spit and elbow grease, you might be able to make your horticulture echinacea dreams come true,” boomed the real estate salesperson in the interior of the badly charred left veranda. Andrew and Summer surveyed the premises with the utmost acuity, noting the burned Rococo banisters, the singed velvet curtains, each a reminder of that tragic day. “So uh, exactly how many Arcade Fire fans died on that fateful day?” Andrew interjected, setting the salesperson to unease. “Well no one remembers that hardly, I mean, who even listens to Arcade Fire anymore, right?” He was avoiding the question and Summer knew it. There was the faint lingering smell of burnt Toms shoes and Burt’s Bees products in the air. A light breeze tickled the fairtrade crystal chandelier and plinked out a few notes from the hit single from Godspeed You Black Emperor, “Storm.” Andrew turned to descend the split Victorian staircase and saw a rail thin apparition standing at the foot of the vestibule. “You here for AF? Yeah, I didn’t even want to come, been into them since ’08, but, such a directed change.” Andrew’s mouth fell agape seeing the ethereal figure push his gawdy blunt cut bangs to the side of his gaunt cheeks. “I mean, the builds are solid but the reliance on flanger fills are so post-Decadedence, you know?” Andrew came here to start an echinacea farm, but he had hit the motherload of hipster ghosts.

. . .

Ultimately, Roger Venkman had no trouble disposing of the unwanted celestial interlopers and hipster ghosts proved even less valuable in death than in life, somehow. Yet, Andrew’s echinacea farm took off to a resounding success largely in part due to the soil cultures imbued with pure, incinerated vegan flesh. It was that touch of herbs and ghost that made all the difference.

FIN.