I don't have much know-how re: Mother Earth Brew Co. I know I had a good half-growler of their IPA a while ago, and I know they wound up on the winning side of a legal dispute with a Mother Earth Brewing outfit in North Carolina. Other than that, they're not on my beer radar what-so-ever.

But this rather inexpensive bomber caught my eye, so I figured I'd give them a try more-or-less on the fly.

Typically, an American craft brewed Saison is typically a Belgian Pale Ale that the brewer either intended to make a bit funky, or is a rebranding of a mistake, and they need to sell it somehow to get it out the door.

For better or worse, I don't think this is a "oops, we fucked up. Let's rename it a saison and send it on it's way". Rather, I do think some thought and effort was put into this -- especially since this is a bit of collaboration effort with El Duende Tequila Inc..

Now, the only way I know of any sort of tequila essence in this beer is due to having read about it online. Taste-wise, there's nothing here that even hints at anything you'd find in North America, yet alone South of the Border. It really is that subtle.

Instead, we have here a saison that doesn't disappoint -- but doesn't impress, either.

I suspect that Mother Earth Brew Co made their saison in such a way as to have the tequila "fill in the gaps", flavor-wise. But they were so cautious with the tequila element as to make it's addition to the batch irrelevant -- and this beer falls a bit short of the mark.

Adequate for winding down the x-mas portion of the holidays, but nothing for either saison or tequila fans to seek out.

"Así así"

//TB

"Wow, you can really taste the grimness in every sip!"

"This is so fucking kvlt!"

"Pairs well with raw sacrificed goat!

"I know what I'm drinking the next time I go on a church-burning spree!"

etc.

Okay, those are ways that you could describe this beer -- if you were colossal moron!

I love well-made Black Metal, have no doubts there. But at the same time, that also gives me license to poke fun at some of the dumber aspects common within the genre. The "angry panda" face painting? The "invisible orange" posing? The typical "wandering forlornly through the snowy woods" band photos? The one-dimensional anti-Christian lyrics? And so on.

(For what it's worth, while I am down with the Immortals, the Dark Funerals, and the Abgotts of the scene, I'm far more into the avant garde thinking-man's material from the likes of Deathspell Omega, Negative Plane, Borknagar, et al).

Onwards.

This is the last bottle of a beer trade with my bud (and fellow metalhead) BeerDiablo. Thanks Jason!

Here's a blub from the brewer on this beer:

Black Metal Imperial Stout, a.k.a. Suds of Northern Darkness, a.k.a. Iron Sword, a.k.a. El Martillo del Muerte. Black Metal is a cruel and punishing beer fermented by the sheer force of its awesome will. We are pretty sure that Kreator wrote the song “Impossible Brutality” about this beer while drinking it during their Extreme Aggression Tour.

---

(Kreator is by no means a Black Metal group, but they still score points here for the accurate Kreator references just the same)

More specifically, this beer clocks in at 10%ABV, 60 IBUs, and an O.G. of 1.108..., with Marris Otter malt, Magnum and East Kent Golding hops, and an English Ale yeast. So, as far this Imperial Stouts pedigree goes, it has far more to do with the United Kingdom than it does with either The Great State of Texas or the none-more-black legions of Black Metal fans.

If this beer does have a "black = evil" aspect to it, the nose is a bit grim. A bit "winey" and boozey in the aroma, that never really calmed down at all over the course of the beer.

But otherwise, I've no complaints re: this beer. Vinous body with some nice legs, tying nicely together with the fairly smooth and silky mouthfeel. Finish could have a bit more finesse, but that is only something that comes about in beers such as this some time-out time in the cellar.

If I had several bottles of this, I would surely stash a few away from  later on down the road. Alas, this is my one-and-only shot at this beer,  since from here on out Jester King is doing all of their beers with a funky (Saison?) Farmhouse Ale yeast -- something that will surely botch up a British-slanted beer such as this.

So, I'm glad I got this when I did. Thanks Jason.

Now, please excuse me, while I finish off this bottle to the melodious musical stylings of Antediluvian's masterpiece, "Through the Cervix of Hawaah". ;)

//TB

(Anybody else think this label looks like it would fit in with the labels that Adam Haynes did for Deschutes? No? Never mind then.)

An interesting beer, and no, just because of the 100% Columbus hop bill. Rather, this is a beer that is a bit of a sleeper hit.

Meaning? No hype on this beer, no "arrogance", and not much flash and grandeur about it even on the Hangar 24 website. Tiny blurb on this on BeerNews.org. But this beer may not toot it's own horn, it does have a trick or two to show folks.

This "slow boil" is carried over to the beer itself, IMO. The beer took a while to get settled in, and in turn it took a while for me to warm up to this beer. A bit wonky straight out of the `fridge, this beer soon found it's way in the woods when it warmed up some -- letting the Columbus hops run on a very loose leash, as it were.

For me, "Columbus" = Anderson Valley Brewing Co. A crass simplification, true, but sometimes ya' gotta 'go with what you know", right? And as such, while I appreciated this IPA, it did make me think back to when the Hop Ottin' IPA from AVBC was not industrial-strength pipe cleaner, but a steady visitor to my `fridge.

Anyway, Hop Ottin' is on my "no thanks list". This one? I can go this way again: a solid IPA, with a good balance of hop and malt, for a decent price.

Recommended.

//TB

A weird little beer, with a bit of history attached to it.

Rather than re-hash things, here's a snip from Wikipedia that is right on target:

In 1966, a milkman named Pierre Celis in the town of Hoegaarden (about an hour’s drive east of Brussels) decided to revive witbier, a regional beer style that had become extinct almost a decade earlier when the town’s last brewery closed.

Pierre Celis’s first brewery was in his father’s stable. In 1972, he relocated to an abandoned soft drink factory, and by 1985, he was brewing 300,000 barrels a year. But Celis never had luck in business. His Hoegaarden Brewery burned to the ground that year, and Celis, who was underinsured, wound up selling his Hoegaarden brand to Belgian giant Interbrew. That company, now known as Anheuser-Busch InBev, continues to make Hoegaarden to this day.

Celis, at the age of 67, founded a microbrewery in the Hill Country outside Austin in 1992. (At a Brickskeller tasting, Celis, who spoke English haltingly, remarked that he chose Texas because its inhabitants speak with a slow drawl, making them easier to understand.) Celis White received a perfect four-star rating from the late British beer writer Michael Jackson in his “Pocket Guide to Beer”. Celis Brewery also made several other varieties of beer in addition to the celebrated White.

Celis Brewery floundered after ownership was purchased Miller Brewing Company, and the plant was shuttered on the final day of 2000. In 2002, Celis White and other brands were acquired by Michigan Brewing Company in Webberville, Michigan, which continues to produce Celis-brand beers.

Pierre Celis died on April 9, 2011, at the age of 86.

This is a pseudo-Belgian beer, with a German-ish name, that has roots in both Texas and Michigan. Got all that? Cool.

Not a bad little beer here. A Belgian Pale Ale that clocks in at a rather easy-peasy 5%ABV. Rather clean, but not boring at all. Some basic fruity esters in the nose, but by no means out of place.

Would the old man have liked it? I get the impression that he was a bit of perfectionist, and would find something to nit-pick here. So be it. But for me, this was an interesting beer that would not mind trying again.

//TB