Tag Archives: tarts

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Beachwood BBQ Tart Simpson Berlinerweiss, Eat My Inoculated Shorts, Man

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Spring is here and the days of turf rebuilding and sitting through shitty Junior Varsity television program lineups is upon us. What better way to shake off all those thick stout releases than with a crisp refreshing beer and getting twisted like those crazy Berliners. Actually, this would take quite a bit to get you Berliner wasted, good thing Beachwood sells growlers, a reasonable 64oz serving size for those times when the kids wont listen and the social worker listens even less.

Unlike the Simpsons, this beer hasn't jumped the shark yet, it is just getting started.

Beachwood BBQ & Brewing
Long Beach, California (NOT SEAL BEACH)
Berliner Weissbier | 3.00% ABV

This beer is like that refreshing yea-sayer friend that supports you in all your endeavors, unlike your friend that is just into Yeasayer, who is a negative asshole. You feel like quitting your job to start a Phish cover band? This beer is all about it. Every idea is a refreshing burst of lemony apricot zest with a bit of wheat for those days when you were weiss-curious. The look is as transparent as a Dan Brown novel, nice lucid yellow tones like a gentle stage light. The lacing is minimal but, bubbles only slow down the massive consumption.

This can be enjoyed at any time, all the time. It may not be directly on to style and it may not have a ton of adjuncts like Berliners coming from say, FLORIDA, but it is still a solid enjoyable pal who will assure you in that juicy manner that it wasn’t a dog that you just hit.

A: It has the dull shine of an amiable glass of pinot grigio, like yellow radiance with pure translusence that you can see right through like drunken pickup lines. Nice clarity and Juicy Juicy character that has minimal carbonation, but like a Hootie and the Blowfisk record, you’ll tolerate it.

Wait, 64 ounces costs how much? Take my money sour ghost.

S: The smell is pretty tame and doesn’t rope a dope any punches on the acidic front but it does contribute a nice lemony zest with some light musk. This could be more wafty, but for the ABV and grain bill, you can’t demand the world I suppose. I get a mild gose-esqye salinity that I actually think smells crisp and refreshing, like biting into a pear.

T: This is one of the most refreshing beers that I have had recently. With the slew of high abv winter releases, it’s good to tone things down a bit and have just a splash of juice and lemony jazz up in my mouth hole. You could put this in a Michelob Ultra bike bottle and refresh yourself on a long half century ride, if you were a negligent ass cyclist. There’s a nice pear and apple aspect to it that just screams summer fun like Super Soaking jamammy with a water pistol.

The flavor to alcohol ratio is complete inconsistent, but non-canon things aren't always bad.

M: This is incredibly light, with a mild salty tartness and faint drying aspect. This doesn’t wipe out the gumline, but keeps you looking for that next sip.

D: This is where this beer shines, a growler is an appropriate serving for one so plan accordingly. The refreshing taste coupled with the tart notes and the low ABV means that some lawns are getting mowed at the helm of this gentle fawn. Hell, enough growlers and you might even get that Trans-AM running that you have been putting off for so long. Sky’s the limit with this Berliner.

This beer defies genres and expectations but leaves you aware enough to contemplate its unique nature.

Narrative: Abilify wasn’t working, Zoloft was a joke, and damn near every reverse seratonin uptake inhibitor just rankled his jimmies, specifically the Jimmies of Jimmy James. His family left him due to his crippling depression and he resorted to horrible scrapbooking until one day he stumbled upon a 64oz container in the beach under some driftwood. “Great, more glass garbage on the bea-” and just then a citrus genie whooshes out in a gentle Febreeze demeanor. “Heyyyy, let’s get some Chipotle and then get a sketch pad and some charcoal pens-” this genie was super chill and filled to the brim with awesome ideas. After a hasty 64 ounces, Jimmy James’s jimmies remained completely unrankled. All of a sudden extended warranties seemed like a pretty legit idea, checking in on old ex-girlfriends just to chat didn’t seem so bad, and heck, maybe a no show at work wouldn’t be the end of the world. With this juicy ghost, the world slowed down and he could just take in the gentle complexity of a yet another American Pie sequel. He finally knew what it felt like to live in Berlin.

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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.