mother

This was the first buzzy barrel-aged barleywine I remember reading about. It’s good and all, but frankly I’m burned out on barrel-aged things. It tastes like vanilla. Or—OR, it tastes fiery like whiskey. And also a little like beer. Whoopie.

I mean, again, it tastes good and all, but I kind of miss the days when we got excited because beer tasted like beer.

Back when I brewed, I sucked. I could understand brewing on paper and had a decent enough nose and palette to tell between different hop and yeast varieties. But I’m impatient and have ADD and am 1/18th basset hound and therefore prone to running through glass porch doors in pursuit of sparkly butterflies. Where was I going with that? Oh, yeah! Impatience! That and brewing do not mix, and so I’d always do something stupid or forget something important and my beers would turn out not very good.

But one time I brewed a high-acid double IPA and I put a cheesecloth sack full o’ oak chips in the secondary. It tasted pretty damn good. All of the off nodes—which, trust me, simply must have been there—were blotted out by vanilla and alcohol and citrusy hops. I cheated, and so I won. (Take note of this, kids. Also, kids, good for you for reading a creepy violent beer blog at such a young age. I predict good things for both you and the cardboard cutout of Elvira that will eventually begin speaking to you and convince you to drink that blue stuff they soak the combs in at Supercuts).

Extremity erases character. That’s why it’s so weird to think that at one point Hitler was a sensitive painter type. Not to say this is the Hitler of beers. I mean, yeah, it gets Shit done, however messily—but I’m going down a weird road, here.

Again, this is not the Hitler of beers.

It does, however, win the award for most annoying shit I’ve ever seen written on a bottle. I’m too full of worms to get up and see what it actually said, but it was something like “you got to wait years on the ocean to see a storm this intense.” Breweries should hire writers. I could do much better. Like, I’d said “this beer is like vanilla and barleywine like a pelican’s salty, barnacled beak.” That sucked. Fine. But it was still less lame than what they wrote.

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