It feels like fall now. Monday (which was Labor Day here in the US) was our farewell to summer. Michelle and I started decking our halls for Halloween. We took our toddler to his favorite splash park for the last time this season and shut the place down. The mornings have been cooler and darker, and we're looking at low temperatures in the 40-degree range this weekend. Yeah, autumn's arrived (I don't care that it's not technically autumn until later this month--we're on my blog).

What better way to welcome fall and September than by beginning the blog's official Oktoberfest season? Let's do just that. Today, we're doing something a little special with Modist's The Time Is Nigh. You'll see what I mean.

Before we get to that, though, let's talk a little about Modist. I've never written about them here, nor have I had any of their beers. The brewery, headquartered in Minneapolis, MN, is driven by creativity. They eschew style guidelines prescribed to certain beers (Reinheitsgebot purists would passionately shake their fists at them). Instead of deciding to brew a beer by style, they think about what they want the experience of drinking a beer to be (I guess this is flavor, aromas, mouthfeel, and, in general, vibe) and concoct a recipe that works toward that. This is accomplished by using a mash filter, which allows for more precise and efficient brewing. Head on over to the brewery's "Visit" page to read more about them and what they do.

If I were to guess the experience that drove the creation of The Time Is Nigh, I'd hazard it was "Oktoberfest." This is a 5.2% Festbier brewed with Vienna, Munich, and German Barke Pilsner malts and hopped with Hersbrucker and Bravo hops. Now, here's the special bit about today's beer: it's aged in oak foeders. That's something you don't regularly see with Festbiers (at least not here in the American Midwest)!

The bouquet wafting from my newly-opened can is crisp and cold (like the aroma of a brisk fall day). There're the necessary biscuit, toffee, and caramel notes, as well as a hint of straw. I'm also detecting a little farmhouse funk, here. Any oakiness I'd expected to find in the lager (given that it's aged in oak) is absent. In its place is a twinge of sourness--lemony, almost, if only it were enough to really pick out. Lastly, there's a bit of smokiness, which I hadn't anticipated from the beer. For her part, Purrl didn't want anything to do with my can--she only gave The Time Is Nigh a single, hesitant whiff.

Moving into the flavor profile, I'm pleased with everything the Festbier has going for it. Sure, those standard Oktoberfest flavors are present (biscuit, caramel, bread), but there's also a bit of alluring sourness present. It's a light and slight effervescent flavor (again, lemon if I had to describe it) that highlights those classic Festbier qualities. The finish is rounded out with a touch of grounding hop bitterness, which is honestly more inviting than I've come to expect from the US take on this style.

The Time Is Nigh's mouthfeel isn't as robust as lagers typically are--it's lacking the frothiness. All the same, the beer's incredibly crushable and I think a more bombastic mouthfeel wouldn't pair super well with its taste or aroma.

What we have here is a killer night-time beer. It reminds me of when I went to visit my buddy in the Carolinas and he took me to Asheville (my first time there!). He arranged for us to go on a brewery tour and, towards the end of the night, we found ourselves on the back deck of one the town's breweries. There was a dude there who wasn't part of our group (he was just a local hanging out) who had his dog with him. At one point, I glanced over and noticed he was sharing his beer with the pup. This struck me then (and still strikes me) as pretty ridiculous, but seeing that was a perfect cap to a wild and fun night. Today's beer would also be a perfect cap to a wild and fun night.

Modist's made a special beer with The Time Is Nigh. It's unlike any other Festbier I've had, and a great start to this month of blogging. I'm giving it an easy 9.5/10. Man, I wish I'd bought more than a single can.