All the buzz online about this stuff suggests that this is a whiz-bang high speed super special archetypal Belgian dark ale. I knew the moment I popped the cap that I was in for a treat. Mixed nuances of black sharpie pen, gasoline, and plum immediately wafted into my nostrils. The flavor was as robust and complex as it was unforgettable; my sensitive palate quickly discerned subtle notes of Robitussin, rich malts, and some kind of old timey spice (not to be confused with Old Spice...more like Dune, the novel, spice). Approximately halfway into the glass I could tell my gastrointestinal tract had confused my highly exotic Delerium Nocturnum with industrial solvent, and was plainly unhappy with me. I promptly punched myself in the stomach to teach my silly guts that they were going to shut up and appreciate this fine potation. Sometimes intestines can be so gauche.
2 Jenkins (Beauty is in the eye of the beholder)
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