Dutch Treat by Sky High Gardens

toasted n’ posted proudly presents…

Dutch Treat by Sky High Gardens

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Dutch Treat by Sky High Gardens

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we appreciate the finer aspects of cannabis. Today, we have Dutch Treat. This well-known hybrid has a bit of mystery attached to it. The closest I’ve come to uncovering the true lineage of Dutch Treat is a half-hearted rumor that it came from a seed bank in Amsterdam and it was then brought to the Oregon Area decades ago. Just like chicken nuggets, we don’t question where it came from…we are just happy its here. Let’s sit back and enjoy a modern spin on Dutch Treat from Sky High Gardens.

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I rush to meet my new Dutch compatriot! My jaw is skewered by needles of piercing juicy citrus. The rods soon become electrified by means of a tantalizing herbal jet. My nose is blistered by the corrosive delicacy. I felt as if I was marooned, helpless, on an island of 7-Up and Lemon Pledge. Seeking shelter from the effervescent lance, I dive towards an undercarriage of muddled berry and fresh leaf. Whilst tossing in the molting mixture, I find the strong slurry climaxes into a pseudo-minty kiss of herbal frosting.

Ripping through the temporary curtain of calm are slicing winds of soured tang. The gusts rampage through the fallen citrine needles, launching the pungent projectiles once more. My nose is beaten senselessly by the rebounding fruity ferocity. The culmination of these notes now resembles ripe cumquats or nectarines. My semi-conscious senses stagger through the remainder of the fragrence. Beaten and battered, I am still able to find solace in the frothy sweet humidity that is tilled in the wake of the fermenting fruits.

The profile of Dutch Treat is consolidated in just a couple of directions, but each is executed with absolute savagery. In hopes of provoking the jungle spirit further, I tear the biggest buds under my nose. A moist skunk contender ushers in from the side of the rocketing candy citrus. The cleaning agent expands to whip a gassy chain that tears into the fibers of my nostrils. I find the assault refreshes and enhances the lingering foulness. Out of my wounds bleeds an earthen berry goo. I wonder if we shall discover some afghani flavor once we spark it up?

Decorated kernels of leafy dank pour out from the jar. The reinforced nuggets demonstrate a wild spectrum of rich color. Somber shades of crocodile clash into curtains of olive leaving a dehydrated juniper filler betwixt the carnage. The verdant jungle appears to be quite welcoming and soft, but I discover with a squeeze that these lush flowers are intent on holding their form. The fresh leaf gives an invisible inch before it takes on a concrete density secreting its trademark juices onto my fingertips. While the buds seem to be restrained to about .8 grams lumps, these pebbles have a big personality.

In all honesty, it may take you some time to detect the scintillating salad of color under the frozen jacket of golden trichomes. Flooding every ridge and petal of Dutch Treat are fully formed trichomes brandishing an off-gold glow. Ranks of translucent lighthouses stand stepping on each others toes, magnifying the resplendent glory of each flower. Craning out from the frosted flesh, competing for attention, are thin raking bronze stigmas. The forlorn ambition of the roasted orange underdogs weave delicate nets over the shimmering faces. Trying to draw attention away from the tumultuous rifts of color is a lost cause, but a noble effort.

Leaf to flame, my tongue is carpeted by savory sweet smoke. A lake of citrusy pulp bled out over a bed of woodchips consumed by lavender fire. This strain is bizarrely smoky, but still packed full of roasted citrus. I feel like I’m chomping into a sauna box full of lemons. I sprint to acclimate to the voracious pace of Dutch Treat.

Secondary to the bulky smokehouse, there is an invigorating rawness in the form of a gassy herb. The best I can do to describe it is a pine forest that has been filled with razors and set ablaze. Like an angel sent to heal the wounded; a blistered chamomile kiss rains down. I jump to catch each milky bandage before I return to face the seething medley of citrine herbs. I feel boulders of hot, savory, earth roll down my throat. I feel my body uniquely tested and electrified by the excessive zesty stranglehold.

I feel the fruity invader crawl deeper into my chest with each hit, reaching for my heart. As the bowl chars, the citrine jets decompose to mimic a fermenting tropical fruit, like a spiced mango that was left under a truck for a couple days. I find myself persuaded by a stale blueberry cough at times as well. I sit in ecstasy as I boil in an ambiguous pot of stinky fruit. Each raw, earthy, bubble carries an uplifting floral finish. Through whatever form, the exacerbating pungency will punish you with decadent flavor.

The high asserts itself quickly as it drops a curtain of blurred belligerence over my eyes. I am stricken with a spirit of barbaric energy. I feel like the Thundercats after they’d just transformed. God Bless Thundera. Contrary to the otherworldly vigor that has consumed my physical form, my mind is scrubbed by a brush of unshakeable calm. I find myself caught within an enchanting paradox; I find myself synchronized with nothingness and it is so peaceful. As you may be able to tell from my phrasing thus far, I’m high as fuck.

I surf the waves of this newfound plane of poetic inebriation. My skull feels as if it is greased up and freely rolling atop my neck. I must be careful not to let it fall off. A pulse of adrenaline, once again, shocks my body. I gasp with the overwhelming rush as my system is shocked into perfect symbiosis. Dutch Treat is a welcome companion to my minor aches, a soothsayer to my anxieties and doubts.

Furthermore, my flesh feels padded. I am inspired by a muse of reckless comfort. I may feel invincible, but I understand I’m pretty far from it. I choose to sit back and bask in the reassuring euphoria. A warm milky film continues to sleeve over my consciousness. The high of Dutch Treat ensnares my brain, just to give it a hug and tell it that everything is going to be alright.

My goodness, weed this good will make you switch religions. The buds are beautiful though I wish they were a little larger.  The aroma is fierce and provocative and is effectively translated through the smoke. The flavor profile is aggressive and should not be taken lightly. I begrudgingly totaled this strain at the same score as the last one. As always, thanks for reading.

Dutch Treat Total Score: 94/100 points

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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