Your first sip of Goose Island’s seasonal release is like God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost all ascended from Cloudland and put their nuts directly in your mouth. Its that good….A tea-bagging from the Holy Trinity. At 13% ABV you are also in no danger of sobriety rearing its ugly head. If you don’t go out and buy some stat, you’re a dick.
I don’t typically like Goose Island beers. They are supposed to be “The Chicago Brewery”, but I think the majority of their beers are sub-par at best. Honkers Ale is lame. 312 is queerer than a 5-wheeled wagon. The new Green Line pale ale is a piss-poor representation of the pale ale genre. With local breweries such as Revolution Brewing, Half Acre and my personal fave Piece absofuckinglutely dominating, I don’t understand why people waste money on GI’s regular mediocre lineup. Oh wait, because people love mediocrity. Why else would Navy Pier exist and GW Bush get a second term? That being said, this beer is decadence in a glass. I just had my first of the season last night, and here are some tasting notes:
-The nose was that of a fireplace lounge at a country club, full of wealth and opulence and rich mahogany. It won’t allow any of the servants to look it in the eyes.
-The first taste has the essence of a long Allman Brothers instrumental in a green field at a humidity-free 75 degrees, on mushrooms.
-The palette is dominated thereafter by very strong, powerful, quick thrusts of Metallica Garage Days leading into an extended instrumental version of Metallica’s “One”. The palette of the Bourbon Country Stout ends with “Darkness….imprisoning me….all that I see…..”. At some point a hole is torn in the sun.
-The finish has not-so-subtle notes of a virgin’s honeypot on prom night.
Or you could always just go pick up a 6er of Bud Light and drink low-alcohol, ice-cold piss. That’s a popular choice.