Cut to a beer forum. Could be any beer forum. Could be your beer forum.

A youngster was kind enough to score a second bottle of Logsdon’s still-kinda-buzzy Oak Aged Bretta from the liquor store. Rather than drink them both, he decides to expand his horizon a bit and see if he can do a $4$ trade with someone else, for something he can’t get in his local market.

FT: Oak Aged Bretta. ISO: Something good. Whatever you want to offer.

This elicits tumbleweeds. But then, suddenly:

OMG check out this NEW MONEY r-tard. He doesn’t even know precisely which vintage of some garage-brewed lacto hefe he wants in exchange for this shelf turd. Lol what a fucking newb.

To wit I respond:

Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Fucking die. You whalez people disgust me. Your existence does more to prove those Occupy kids right than any Citibank bailout ever possibly could. Because you’re obviously rich enough to afford dropping 3k per month on beers no reasonable human gives a fuck about yet still unimportant or worthless enough to spend 8 hours a day digging through beer forums and making runs to the UPS store. I pray I shall live to see the Soviet-style liquidation of you and your kind.

Er… okay. Let’s settle down.

Just a few years ago, it seemed like this was one of the most desirable buzz beers. Now I found it sitting unassumingly upon a liquor store shelf—didn’t even have to go through any of that Binny’s bullshit to get it. There was no making small talk with the clerk. No reaching behind the counter. No signing up for the release weeks in advance and leaving work early to grab it before someone else does.

But a lack of hype does not mean a lack of quality. Or—god, does it? Is my very pallet, my ability to physically experience things, actually influenced by the perceived rarity of a beer?

It might be. I don’t know. Because as insane and delicious as this sounded when I first heard of this in 2012, when it was effectively unattainable, it now seems a little pedestrian. Not bad at all. Quite well brewed and expertly aged. But when everybody else has copied your idea so much that your product no longer causes neckbeard traders to salivate, that—that—that, I gues that means it effects the way the beer tastes. Because I am an inhuman monster. I am basically as bad as the beer trading guy.

Pours quite dark for the style with a small head that fades quickly. Smells tart, very brett-forward, with only light hints of whiskey. No discernible fruit complexities, not even as it warms, but the balance is nice.

Tastes much more complex than it smells. Tart cherry nodes up front remain present throughout but morph as they mellow, producing hints of sherbert and melons before smoothing out into a spicy, lightly boozy saison.