Barrel-Aged Abominable Winter Ale, by Fremont Brewing …but you expected it to be in a pint glass like days of old when the bartender knew he’d get you drunk but didn’t care anyhow. He’d twist his baseball cap a bit when he saw you stumble against the pool table. But he knew you were careful enough never to spill a drop as though you had the final serum for AIDS. Ah, that was a different city and at least a year ago. Don’t be fooled by the inconspicuous name (Freeeeeeemont) of the brewer, barrel-aging apparently is a cure-all for everything you throw in a mash and call Beer. Hope springs eternal. Or some bullshit of similar nature. Please throw out an AND 1 for this tasty concoction as it slashes its way through the paint of your palate, infuriating your defensive beerhavior power forwards. You thought you knew enough to guard against simple flavor enjoyment but this Winter takes it to the rack and drops a deuce on your tongue. Find a corner of the floor (or bar—no bottles) and curl up with this one while you can because it’s fuck-all cold out there in the stinkin’ rain son. Obligatory taste words: maple syrup, honey, dazzle, tongue dance, crossover, hopped-up, browntown, Steve “Alcohol-Warmth” Nash

Barrel-Aged Abominable Winter Ale, by Fremont Brewing

…but you expected it to be in a pint glass like days of old when the bartender knew he’d get you drunk but didn’t care anyhow. He’d twist his baseball cap a bit when he saw you stumble against the pool table. But he knew you were careful enough never to spill a drop as though you had the final serum for AIDS. Ah, that was a different city and at least a year ago.

Don’t be fooled by the inconspicuous name (Freeeeeeemont) of the brewer, barrel-aging apparently is a cure-all for everything you throw in a mash and call Beer. Hope springs eternal. Or some bullshit of similar nature. Please throw out an AND 1 for this tasty concoction as it slashes its way through the paint of your palate, infuriating your defensive beerhavior power forwards. You thought you knew enough to guard against simple flavor enjoyment but this Winter takes it to the rack and drops a deuce on your tongue.

Find a corner of the floor (or bar—no bottles) and curl up with this one while you can because it’s fuck-all cold out there in the stinkin’ rain son.

Obligatory taste words: maple syrup, honey, dazzle, tongue dance, crossover, hopped-up, browntown, Steve “Alcohol-Warmth” Nash

  1. icanhazbeers posted this