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Oh, where to begin. We just had our first get away since being together (5 1/2 years roughly). We traveled from our fair city (Columbus, Ohio) to Louisville, Kentucky for three main reasons. 1) Frank Turner was playing. 2) Meet up with a friend and enjoy some good beers. 3) Get the fuck away from everything, if only for one night.
For those who are not familiar with Louisville, pronounce it without any vowels to get the proper dialect. "Luh-Vil" is the closest I could come to. Apparently, this city has a happening beer scene that's overlooked. Our game plan was to hit up the Frank Turner show, then hit up a bar or two. After we dropped $50 on beer at the amazing concert ($30 for a 6 pack of 12-ounce cans of PBR... Yes, PBR... Let that sink in with the beer that we're reviewing now), and time running against us for the evening, we decided to meet up with our friend at Sergio's World of Beer (first time actually meeting him in person). If you're not familiar with Louisville's roads, it was confusing as fuck to drive the 3 miles of one way streets with the occasional lane of opposite traffic, with the twists and turns, changing the names of the roads without warning.
Sergio's is a Beer Mecca with an interesting concept. Everywhere you look in the establishment, you'll find coolers filled with nothing but craft and import beers. It was there where we first saw this. We didn't try it that night (with the whole getting lost thing, we got there about a half hour before last call).
The following day, we started the morning with Mimosas (because when the hotel room includes a bottle of champagne and breakfast, it just makes sense). After getting ready, we met up with our friend at a brewery that was roughly a mile away from the hotel. Against the Grain brewing was fun; good beer, good food. The only issue I had was the server. He was a good server, but describing the characteristics of each beer style to a guy who's wearing a brewery hat and undershirt with a "Columbus Craft Beer Week" work shirt, yeah... I know what an IPA is, just tell me what hops are showcased in it. Mosaic, cool, one of our favorites. Oh, and there he goes describing what Mosaic gives off as flavors, despite us just saying we like Mosaic... sigh... We picked up a couple beers after sampling each of the brews they had on tap. From there, we went to the Louisville Beer Store, where we stumbled across this again. We needed to purchase this then and there. As the hipsters started flowing into the store, piling in in roaming hordes like moths to a light, I felt like shaking this up and spraying it on them, yelling, before running back to the car. Hell, I was in Hunter S. Thompson's home town. I feel like it was paying homage to the man and would be a travesty if I didn't do something bat shit fucking crazy.
Well, 17 hours out of 24 hours in Louisville involved alcohol somehow. The highway hypnosis back to Ohio was something out of a god damned comic book. Headlight reflections from the mirror manifesting themselves into beings in the back seat, reminding you of the things you see on Facebook about the latest scam people are pulling in parking garages. Rain drops catching light from taillights, making you wonder if the trip back to Ohio was filled with the same brake-checking fun that was had on the way down to Louisville.
I am off topic. Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered on this blog to read about beer. I fell in love with the name of this. Hipster Repellant. Fucking hipsters. Fucking knit hat wearing bastards. "Oh, have you heard (insert most-likely made up band name here)? Oh, I'm sure you haven't. I listened to them up until they sold out." Fuck you smug ass pricks. I hate your society, I hate your culture, I hate your fucking knit hats that are accessories to your fucking thick rimmed glasses that you don't even need to fucking wear. You're just doing it to fit in with the rest of the society you subscribe yourself to, even though you're oh-so fucking different than all the other fuckers that dress/act just like you. You're just like the fucking emo-kid movement we had a few years back. At least the emo-kids were mopey, you're just a pretentious fuck. I bet you had a fucking beer review blog before I was doing it, right?
This pours a golden orange color. Decent carbonation and, even after my little rant, there is still a small amount of off-white head (I'm sure you fuckers were calling it off-white before off-white was a color, right?). I'm having issues picking up the nose on this because of the aftershave I put on (yeah, no beard on this guy). What I am picking up is faint. Sweetness, grapefruit, and pine. Taking the first sip is interesting. Lighter bodied, smooth drinking with a nice malt backbone that is balanced with the hops. Notes of caramel and straw from the malts with citrus and pine. Nothing is overpowering of one another. This drinks more like a session-IPA than the typical IPAs that I'm used to. There's some nice hop oil finish on the tongue with a dry finish. This is a more of a lawn-mower beer than most lawn-mower beers (fuck, that sounded like something a hipster would say). The finish, as mentioned, is dry, with some orange and grapefruit zest flavors that lightly linger with your slightly numbed tongue. Not bad at all, wish we would have picked up more than just one bottle of this.
4/5 caps
-Nathan, the Anti-Hipster-
Cough cough, Nathan might be a hipster. Possibly one in denial, but there, I said it. He certainly has some hipster tendencies. Then again, who among us doesn't? Some of us, agreeably, take it too far. Can we discuss the baggy skinny jeans that are one of my biggest pet peeves in men's fashion today? Sure, we'd all like to air out the cash and prizes, but add the skinny ankle, and I get almost as pissed off as as I do whenever I see a Nissan Cube, which, because you were probably unaware of my hatred for this vehicle, makes me want to punch babies and puppies and kittens. Not that I would, but it evokes that illogical, irrational rage side in me. For the love of hops, people, you can't call it a Cube and have an asymmetrical design. You can't have skinny jeans and baggy jeans in the same garment. You can't send your lackey to tell me you are in a meeting that could take 10 minutes or 10 hours because that's how these things go, when you see me get out of my car, just because it's on a day that you don't feel like buying beer. Fucking hipsters. I was so glad when Nathan grabbed this beer just as the roving hordes of hipsters started closing in on us in the Ville. I swore we would drink it when we got back in town that night, but we were pretty exhausted. A brew day in the middle, and here we are, celebrating that my number one favorite client didn't buy beer again from me again today, on the one day he buys beer for his several establishments. And he had the gall to call me "buddy". To my face. Even though I had just taken one, I definitely needed another shower after that.
Ugh. I need to get this Hipster Repellent in my mouth, stat. Lucky for all of us, I deal with a lot of fun customers tomorrow. Nathan nailed the appearance. I pick up sweetness, pine, and wait, is that the scent of fading hops in the nose? I hope not; this is pretty fresh. I am picking up absolutely no malt backbone whatsoever, merely sweetness, like this is all caramel malts and no base malt at all. The sweetness masks some pine and grass notes in the flavor. It tastes almost like candied pine needles, if that were a thing (I'm sure some hipster somewhere will make it so. Just remember, I suggested it). There is an earthy note in the middle that then gives way to the grassy note. And the finish is astringent like I just chewed a crushed-up aspirin. The body is extremely thin for a 6.5% IPA. I would like to see this a little more robust, and candidly, from the name, I was expecting a dank brew with a solid blend of patchouli and kind bud I mean Columbus hops. Oh wait, did I confuse hipsters and hippies? My bad. I actually adore hippies.
3.7/5 caps
-Jennie
Cheese Pairing: Mild, boring ass, non-hipster cheddar
Food Pairing: Kraft macaroni and cheese. Out of the box. That's right. Original c-shaped macaroni. Hell, get the generic. The more Yellow #5 and #6, the fewer hipsters will buy it.
Music Pairing: Frank Turner "Four Simple Words" (pay attention to the lyrics)
