Tag Archives: sours

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Duchesse De Bourgogne, The Mistress that Starts Every Man’s Sick Foray into Sours

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This is every man’s gateway drug into sours. Some people use La Folie, but this or Rodenbach is usually the potation that makes them start wiping vinegar on their gums and getting all acetic. Shit is a sad path.

Teach me how to Duchess, teach teach me how to Duchess

Duchesse De Bourgogne – flemish ale, flanders red – 6% abv

A: It looks like a maraschino cherry juice with a bit of amber added to it, a transparent stage blood color with steady cabonation, 11oz bottle pours a formidable 2.5 finger head, off pink in color. I’m not going to go for the predictable Spin Doctors joke here, so don’t ask.

This sour isn't exactly generic, but it's not exactly the best on the market. It just gets the job done like an asian Steve Jobs.

S: theres a tart bitterness to it, almost vinegar in the dryness on the nostrils, with hints of underlying sweetness. You get this juicy cherry note like skittles and a sweetness to the finish like a push pop, dont act like you didn’t mash on those so hard.

T: it starts out tart with a sour cherry note that reminds me of a wine-based jolly rancher, but rounds out to a nice sweet mellowness, no hops present on the finish, the drying effect comes up front but finishes with the sweet so it becomes for another taste. I have met people who have drank bottles of this from the 90’s back when I was in diapers still…my teenage years were…difficult.

This disguises itself as a serious sour but, eventually you will pat its head and look longingly to acetic face melters.

M: mouthfeel is as thin as the appearance connotes, its very light and watery on the palate but the dryness to it adds a bit of complexity to the chewiness, namely your own mouth lining degrading like the sands under tide.

D: It is a good beer, fun to split with someone, but not an all purpose beer. I cant see it being very civilized out of doors, not especially housebroken, but a refined anemic purebred that is for show and posterity only. However, the fleeting joy is like a puppies feet upon your shins, you just wouldn’t welcome 4 or 5 in your home, for obvious reasons.

You know she has a slight harshness to her but, you put up with it for lasting benefits.

Narrative: I didn’t think that this old metal detector would be any use, I mean, come on, what’s the likelihood that someone left GOLD TREASURE underneath the sands of Marina Del Rey? Right. The joke is on them because I found the treasure, and not in the Miramax “your friends are the true treasure” sort of way. I am talking about smoking hot redheaded seacreature treasure. It turns out, obsessively walking the beach day and night makes you pretty attractive to mythical seawomen. Yeah I said it, mermaids, big whoop yawannafightabout it? So I was walkin along minding my business and then suddenly this sweet merbroad comes out of the depths and foam, mumbling something about whozits and watzits galore. So I showed her the boot I found, the bent fork, the book of cliches, you know things you find in the ocean. She was totally stoked and took me to her underground cave lair, which I lamentably could only enjoy for a few moments before blacking out due to depth and lack of oxygen. I tell you this though, she had some PRETTY NICE THINGS. So sure, falling in love with a sweet, elusive redhead is great, but sometimes it takes a lil work ya know? Big whoop

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Upright Fantasia, Come Along and Ride on a Fantasia Tick Voyage. Coolio References 50% Off

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Here’s a familiar situation, a small run of rare Oregon beers come out, for two week you sit back and watch everyone ask for Blabaer, Vanilla Dark Lord, Black Note (read: things I have already reviewed on this site) and then after two weeks, the reality sets in and people become more reasonable. This is no exception. I have to thank a super generous trader for hooking me up with this peach gem. Absolute Peach O ring all up in my dome piece.

Plenty of peach sours rolling out these days, life is NOT THE PITS.

Upright Brewing, Fantasia, 5.75% abv

A: This has a golden hue to it, like the wild ale that the Argonauts were seeking out. There’s minimal wispy carbonation that just gets phoned in like 11:30 am orders to Dominos on a Sunday. But hey, this ain’t your first rodeo, you know how wild ales roll, all go and no show homie.

Me complaining about this rare peach beer not being sour enough is the pinnacle of first world problems.

S: There’s an acidic and musky nose to it that reminds me kinda of Stetson cologne but with a huge peach waft to it. It reminds me of puberty, smells like awkward kids who need deodorant and sticky peach o ring hands. I like it, not pubescent kids, peach O rings and drinks derived therefrom.

T: This has a fantastic (ba dum tish) crisp initial sweetness of basically anything made by Haribou, nice peachy tang to it that doesn’t overly dominate on the sour spectrum, but it reminds me that life ain’t all about cash money hoes, all a sour knows. There’s a tartness that resounds into a chardonnay sweet note without the oaky dryness. It almost reminds me of a classy ass energy drink, for those discerning truckers who need to jack off en route, but balance it out with a high brow beverage.

Unlike these generic asshats, I would actually seek this beer out again. This beer will actually make it.

M: The coating on this beer is super crisp like juice and doesn’t coat that well, but it would be weird if it had some malty ass base, syrupy peach goopiness. So not a whole lot to comment here, go sip some peach juice mixed with some grapefruit tartness and you’ll get the drying effect down dead on. I don’t need to pad out each section ok, it’s like this one guy I met from Portland said, oh out of space on to the next section-

D: This is incredibly, edibly drinkable. I could cold clock this bottle like a session sour and it has a strange resemblance to a shitty unblended lambic that I once made, albeit, this is the perfect version. My shit 2000 and late. Another crazy aspect to this is it’s relatively low alcohol content and delicious crisp finish makes me wish that I had a solid case of this to share with the bros at Havasu, me and the brahs just chilling at Coachella cracking sick brews and listening to Arcade Fire, a totally solid band.

This beer tears up my gumline, but I forgive it.

Narrative: In the early 16th century life was devoid of peaches for the most part, and all the canon of musical theory was rigid and predicated largely on ecclesiastic works. Then a tree of divine mystery sprang in a Prussian grove, shattering the rigid contemplative nature of formal music. It was really just rotting peaches, but, when moves into the country they inevitably will eat a lot of peaches. With enough fermenting and pitting, the sugars turned out some majestic works in C minor for the clavichord. Baroque composers were known to beat their mistresses savagely after imbibing the strange succor of peach alcohol. This carried stringent, diaphanous connotations. On one hand, the lithe tones of the Fantasia school created a refreshing lightness, it also meant 16th century wives got pounded on in more than a euphemistic fashion.

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New Glarus Berliner Weiss, Some Words to the Weis- ARGH

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I figured since it is the last day of the year, might as well burn out some sick terse reviews to tie up loose ends before another 365 days of telling people not to drink beer.

Here goes:

Wisconsin meets Berlin, with sick results.

This beer is pretty legit, nice tartness with a musky hay funk to the nose. I could session this beer so hard, were I to have any leaves to rake, I would be all over this. There’s a lemon zest and since it is retired, YOU CAN TASTE THE RARE. I guess rare tastes a bit like a sour cheese finish.

This beer is sadly gone, retired, and not easy to come by anymore. colon left parenthesis. Serious gravity.

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Armand 4, Lente, Oude Geuze, Belgian Acidic and Sick Wid It

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Oh Wait, #7 Ranked Beer in the Whole World? Things are real in and around the field.

Armand 4, Lente, Geuze, 6% ABV

A: The beer has a radiant hue to it that is mellow but gold, like fresh cornbread in a field of poppies. The carbonation is huge and produced major frothy losses. However, this beer is rare and annoying to ship in from Belgium so, there’s an inherent bias. Dont touch it, dont even look at it.

Please Dont Touch the Lente.

S: The smell is acidic and tart with a tart lemon and apricot to it. There is a bit of white wine tannins and funky wet hay/post dogbath towel smell going on in a great way.

T: The taste is wild tart skittles, pear, apricot, and a deep acidity to it. The prickly tartness lingers long after you swallow and there’s almost a sort of red bull sugary finish. I dont want it to rip my mouth apart, but I know it is coming. Gumline recedes with every sip.

I know something bad is coming.

M: The mouthfeel is light and crisp like biting into fresh Anjou pear, however, the prickliness of the sourness burns and washes hot in a ph2 sort of way. With each sip, there’s a huge frothiness that expands in torrential sourness.

D: This is drinkable at first, simply due to how fantastic it tastes. However, right around the crest of a full 750ml tour of duty, I need some tums before I stoploss my ass into another round with this acrimonious asshole. It is amongst the finest sours/geuzes that I have ever tasted, but the acidity is almost too much and tears up the gumline like a native american treaty. And as soon as it began, the Lente is gone, and, I can deal with that.

Sit back and enjoy the Lente.

Narrative: “Dr. Irisine, line 1,” the loudspeaker boomed through the successful plastic surgery clinic. Dr. Irisine’s heels clicked along the linoleum with purpose. He swung into room 302 lightly on the heels of his supple lambskin shoes. “I am not going to honeysuckle you, this is bad, but nothing that I can’t fix,” he sincerely stated as he looked over his patient’s collapsed mandible. “Now listen, bedside manner is not my strong suit, but, I have seen industrial acid injuries worse than this, a little lye to the face is a walk in the park these days.” Within hours, the consent forms were signed and the patient was lying in a supine position under Dr. Irisine’s skillful care. The face took the acidity hard. It looked like a morbid Gushers commerical, but Dr. Irisine was the best around. His debonair scalpel and suction hose clipped left and right with compunction, excising away the destroyed teeth and gumline. Several hazy hours later, the patient woke up to see Dr. Irisine sucking on a lemon rind while gazing out the window. “Don’t try to speak. However, ponder this for me, what is it about life that condemns some gallant men to suffer horrible acid burns to the mouth and others to enjoy the sweet succor of its fruits?” he dropped the rind on the windowsill and flicked a drop of lemon juice onto the EKG. “Well my dear patient, when life hands you lemons-” he trailed off, spit out a seed and began to whistle the Andy Griffith theme song as he exited the plastic surgery ward.

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Lost Abbey Framboise De Amarosa, Farmboise De Omarosa be too crazy.

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Framboise Never Had It So Good

Framboise de Amarosa, American Wild Ale 7.0% abv

A: There are deep ruby hues with some nice light carbonation and light red lacing. It’s like Hypnotiq’s baller ass raspberry flavor to be all sipping on while you’re cruising in your triple black Challenger.

S: The smell presents an intense cranberry and acidic dryness with raspberry on the nose. The oak is present in the smell and it is has a juicy wine profile to it. It’s like Andre Rose Champagne but with leather seats and a cutty ass Gucci interior.

T: The taste is incredibly drying with incredibly tart raspberry notes. This might be the driest and also the most tart american wild ale that I have ever had. The juiciness was present but largely the dryness wipes out the gumline and presents a huge intimidating bouquet of berries and crispness. The acidity is crazy and stings like an atomic warhead.

M: Again, there is an intense, huge crisp dryness. The mouthfeel seems like it’s an intense merlot with oak to round it out. It’s tough to determine exactly how thin or thick this beer is because the coating is so acrimonious. IT’S SUCH A DEEP BURN, OHHH DEEP SQUATS WITH SICK BOUNCING BETTIES, SICK DEAD LIFT FINISH BROMOROSA.

D: This is an incredible experience with crazy highs and low to it. This is not a figure of balance, nor does it do anything in moderation. It is impossible not to recommend this exceptional beer to others. Clearly, it is not meant to be enjoyed as a sesssion beer and should be treated accordingly. The taste is so amazing that it is hard to knock it for adhering to a certain style so well. Overall it is incredibly bitter and juicy and I am left wanting more.

Narrative: The train of her ostentatious gown dragged upon the split staircase with wanton disregard for anyone walking near her. After all, there were plenty of tailors within her Parlor and weekly soirees that would readily repair any damage. Somehow Countess Brioche sought more than just the exploitation of the endearing faces of the working classes. She sought their unending love. Notwithstanding, her acerbic parents brought her up to speak her mind truthfully and freely at all times, no matter how scathing. “Oh-oh-oh!” The Duchess of Piedmont fell down two stairs to her knees upon the rich velvet of Countess Briochess’s train. “Your steps lack precision due to the mass pressed upon them.” Mme. Brioche commented and felt a slight pang at her ejaculation. It wasn’t fair to cut others so deeply with such a bitter acerbic purity. Somehow, in this acidic repartee, others saw themselves, and their own shortcomings, despite the caustic burns they received. Countess Brioche looked upon a bustling courtyard of servants who despised her, but respected her stinging candor.

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Goose Island Juliet American Wild Ale, Jamammy name Juliet

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Wherefrought Art Thou

Juliet, My Sun, wherefrouartthou, Jamammy name Juliet

Goose Island Juliet 6.7% Wild Ale

A: Deep amber and light ruby notes, almost no carbonation, no lacing, very tame in body not very sticky, and like the foam parties of the late 90’s I like dem bodies all sticky icky. Also Chemical Brothers, where applicable.

S: Huge wild notes, funk vinegar, grape peels, sour blackberries, tart wood finish, but let me tell you about the REST OF HER. Ba dum tish.

T: The fruits are more mellow, but refreshing. I will rarely give Consecration a run for its money but this is very on point for the style and finish. I ultimately love the oaky and high abv of the Consecration but this is just fantastic. The vinous notes are supported with background sweetness and the tannins are great and add a layer of complexity to it. It gets down all tart and starts merking the gumline, popping and locking all up in the sweet and sour zones, popin lockin dropin that birthday cake.

M: It is very light in maltiness, thank god, and lets the fruits and wild aspect take charge with the full character. The drying fruit skin notes resonate for just long enough to make you want to reengage. I love that it doesn’t cop out the indistinct sweet/cider route or try to be a gueuze in disguise. This is distinctively sour and the experience is top notch. It’s doing things well without additives, like when sours rock fake contact lenses or extensions, you know something is up. Or when your sour only earns $800 per pay check but has that LV bag, you know something straight questionable. Not here, Juliet keeps it real.

D: All. Day. Long. This is a great beer and the abv makes it universally accessible and great to offer anyone. The light character with HUGE taste makes a crazy synergy that makes me want multiple bombers of this. If I had more patience, I would age it further and enjoy the mellowed version but, I do not and it is great as it is. It’s pretty legit, not exactly too legit to warrant quitting, but, quite legit.

Narrative: Juliet knew she had something special to her. At first it was just idle whispers when she was younger. As she came of age, she learned to hone in on the narratives and focus in on the voices in her head. She had learned to learn a lot of things from the flowers, especially in the month of June. It was an ethereal talent that really did not give her any special insight to the world, but it was a power her own. “JULEZ? Are you still sitting out in the boysenberry patch?” Her conversation was interrupted abruptly and she had to put the rhododendron on hold. “Yeah mom, hang on.” The flowers really just complained and imparted sour notes into her life, but, somehow being so in sync with the idle problems of the flora made he feel whole. Juliet was a sweet minx, but sour through and through. “BUT PRAYTELL, HOW SHE FIT ALL THAT IN THEM JEANS?” the tawdry floral chorus sang in unison as she walked away.

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3f Schaerbeeske Kriek, lambic, Acidic Cherry Gastritis 6% abv

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Face Melting Grenadine

3f Schaerbeeske Kriek, lambic, fruit, 6% abv

Appearance: This beer looks like grenadine on steroids. It projects this vibrant red and foamy pink pallor that is both inviting and a sign of toxins, acquired from the wild. The lacing is pink and sticky with incredibly tiny bubbles. It’s like Rose` for hard drug users.

Smell: There is a musky mossy cardboard finish to the nose of this beer. The cherry and strawberry notes are present and smell delicious and almost too archetypical to be real, like this is a type of lambic bubble bath. The smell makes me think that this will melt my face like Christopher Lloyd in who Framed Roger Rabbit. Toontown up in this bitch.

Taste: There is an super drying tart cherry taste to it that just tears the enamel off of your teeth. Your taste buds run for cover, but there will be no shelter provided under this oppressive regime. The drying nature combined with the cherry skins just wipes out the inside top layer of skin in your mouth. If cherries had a chemical warfare program, this would be their dirty bomb. It is delicious and caustic at the same time, like a well balanced Taylor Swift album. AND JUST AS BITTERING.

Mouthfeel: Well, the mouthfeel is, thin, sharp, and painful. I have no other way to describe it. Perhaps if this had a couple years to think about its past transgressions, it might be nicer outside the bottle but it is a rampaging asshole through and though. You just get this sweet tart needling like brambles rolling over your tongue. Somehow, it is all worth it, I cannot explain how or why. It is similar to eating an Atomic Warhead when you were a little kid, the sweet part makes the tortuous coating worthwhile. You wake up with cankersores and check webMD to realize that herpes are the OUTSIDE mouth kinds of sores and breathe a sigh of relief.

Drinkability: The huge price tag, violent mouthfeel, and incredible tartness make it tough to justify this asshole. I feel like a battered wife sticking up for it, but I suppose that it does have some redeeming factors. It is incredibly delicious and I am sure a vintage of this would be amazing. I just don’t know any average person that you could pop this open with at a ski lodge or, on a Grayhound bus to meet your baby’s momma. No pedestrian endeavors here, just cherry violence and infidelity.

Narrative: It took years of failed testing, losses, and emotional turmoil but Xenidyne Tech had finally completed its magnum opus, Grenidation Chericite, the most powerful cherry substance known to man. It was the cherry equivalent of a neutron star with billions of orchards compacted into its tiny buzzing core. The bright red orb rotated at whizzing speeds within the class translucent containment unit emitting red bolts of power with enough cherry to kill a man. “If we could only, remove the pits, we could harness even more cherry power into its core!” Professor Bergstrom ruminated, while drawing hackneyed scientific symbols on a white board. “BUT SIR! That’s too much cherry for one…FOR ANYONE!” Professor Bergstom turned quickly and gripped his notepad, “YOU TELL THAT TO MY DAUGHTER, the one who died because her Shirley Temple didn’t have enough cherry in it, the one who cried and ran out of that Red Robin and was hit by a car, YOU TELL HER THAT SHE DOESN’T DESERVE ANY MORE CHERRY!” The assistant lowered his head solemnly “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” “If I can’t bring her back, then I can allow her legacy to live on, IN TARTNESS!” he turned a large hackneyed dial that amped up the chericites, a unit of measure used to the intensity of cherriness in any given substance. “THE CHERRICITE CORE IS GOING TO BLO-” The fuschia mushroom cloud sent a massive turbid layer of fandango into the valley. The papers would unabashedly utilize the phrase “Cherry Bomb” in a tasteless fashion.

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Lindeman’s Framboise, 6% abv, Raspberry Massacre

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Raspberry Trainwreck

Framboise lambic lindemans

A: There is a deep ruby red purple color with a fuchsia head with no lacing, it just sits there, nonplussed.

S: There is a huge raspberry and skittles nose with juicy berries and roses. Far more juice and sweetness than maltiness and beer. This seems to be a flaw as the nose is just sweet with nothing else to offer.

T: There is a huge juicy presence with no alcohol waft just complete wine profile with no oak just juicy juice that is kinda cloying after a bit. I wonder if this would be better as a cuvee or maybe just not ordered at all. It is difficult to say.

M The mouthfeel is thin with no hops, the only thing that I notice is a sticky coating with weak tannins. This is that birthday party for beer elements where if a real beer showed up, it would feel all awkward because 11 year old dudes were playing Mall Madness.

D The profile is not meant for long sessions. Even my 12oz romp was enough for me. This “beer” was weak and far too sweet. I know I am supposed to judge on style but this is just nonsense, don’t drink this. Go drink a cup of juice and save your liver the paperwork.

Narrative: Eliza’s 6th grade science project seemed to be going to well. She had an impeccable tristand board with exhibits and visuals and graphs. The hypothesis seemed well ordered and- what the, “WHAT ARE THE EFFECTS OF PINOT NOIR ON AN 11 YEAR OLD?” Ok, that is when things maybe took a downtown. Eliza showed up visibly drunk, not unlike a Portugese schoolgirl. Her teeth were stained blackberry purple and she kept leaning on the judges, physically not figuratively. While her study was technically sound, her parents shook their heads in disbelief when she began crying and attempting to go through her phone. Notwithstanding, she confirmed that Pinot Grigio made girls of all ages and dispositions emotional wrecks. She took second place to a Vietnamese child whose water acidity exhibit was clearly put together by his parents. Also, they were not drunk.