Category: Belgium

Belgium: Amber Ale, Brasserie Caracole, Falmignoul

Arrosto misto. That is what the Jamie Oliver book I was thumbing through this morning called it. Mixed roasted meats. What better way to see out January, that month that begins with a hangover and ends with February. The meats were rolled in olive oil with rosemary, lemon and a little smoky chili. They were also wrapped in lean pancetta. Including the sausages. A worthy addition to my life. All slow roasted with thick slices of onion, apple, lemon and carrot. The side dish is a sort of scalloped spud, mushroom and anise thing I made up.

I needed a beer to go with it and the earthiness of Caracole’s amber ale was just the thing. It pours still with a quickly resolved head giving it the appearance of scotch. On the nose, plenty of nutmeggy spice as well as sweet malt. In the mouth, fall apple, cream, nutmeg, raisin with a solid level of twiggy and slightly minted hopping. Really lovely and very good with the smoky, meaty, root veg meal. BAers give solid respect.

Belgium: Pannepot GR ’05, De Struise / Deca, W’ Vleteren

I must have been very good today as this is the bottle I decided to open. I mowed the half the lawn. And I held the fort at my desk with a certain style. I’ll likely even keep the empty as it even has the mark of importers Roland + Russell, the kind folks who forwarded this sample.

But, you know, it would be bad enough keeping things straight if it were just the fact that Brouwerij ‘t IJ in Amsterdam has a beer called Struis. But these guys of De Struise don’t even have a brewery. Celebrator explained the deal last December. Well, they are adults so that is up to them but it’s no way to run a railroad, I can tell you that. Professor Unger tells us that the accumulation of capital was the path to brewing dynasties…at least as far as medieval low country brewing went – why is it that just because we are in the next millennium we throw all that wisdom right out the window? Kids. Go figure.

Anyway, this brew is a bomb at 10%. The label includes “candy” as an ingredient. I really hope that means candi sugar and not a Mars bar or Bubbalicious. That would be a real let down. It pours nutty mahogany under a thick beige head. Oloroso gently meets balsamic on the nose. In the mouth, it is a cross between Duchesse De Bourgogne and…um…Newkie Broon. Just a first impression but that’s what it was. Then – much to your relief – there is more: a sort of a black cherry thing, vanilla, balsamic, molasses and herbal/medicinals like maybe those in Orval hop profile. All in all, lightly soured and oaked brown ale of great complexity that shows no sign of its massive strength whatsoever.

Greg has more. The BAers go all gushy and blush.

Maine: Novare Res, Off Of Exchange Street, Portland

While in Maine, I headed out one night with pals who lived there to find a new Belgian beer bar that I had heard plenty about – Novare Res. We had a bit of trouble finding the place at night as it sits in a mid block courtyard near the corner of Exchange and Middle Streets in the old port part of town but once we found the right alley we were in for a treat. Set up with two main sections, a beer celler as well as a courtyard beer garden, Novare Res provides a layout that will work on a stinking hot Saturday afternoon or a stormy winter night. Inside, it’s brick with new Ikea-esque pale pine laminate on the benches and tabletops. Very comfortable.

There is a solid draft line up, from which I picked a Monk’s Flemish as well as a Bernardus 12 for one of the company. The food selection is limited to cold cuts and cheese plates but that was fine with me – though the lack of Belgian fies gave a moment’s concern. This approach must help keep costs down, however, as the real feature is how reasonably priced everything is. Our waiter was friendly, interested in knowing what we knew about beer and a keener herself – I got to explain that “oudbeitje” sounds a lot like “ode bitchie” but with less bite and a bit of a loopy “yee” sound at the end. Prices? I will have to check my receipt, still out in the car, but I think a full measure of Bernardus 12 was $7.49. The De Ranke XX we split was close in price to what I would expect to pay at a retail bottle shop like Tully’s. Verdict? Go.

Belgium: Chapeau Lemon and Kriek, Brouwerij De Troch

Girlie Drink Drunk. There was a Kids in the Hall skit fifteen years or so back called “Girlie Drink Drunk.” It seems to be on YouTube. That’s all I can think of when I see these super sweet lambic offerings but I buy them hoping they will be more fruited than sweetened. And I didn’t mind the pineapple cousin to these two – except for wondering why anyone would want pineapple in a beer.

The Kriek is the red of warning or lollipop rather than fruit but a bright cheery red nonetheless. Pink foam and rim. Candy and cough drop on the nose. Some acidity to cut the sweet but pretty sweet, cough droppy. If this was a fruit juice I would think it too much. The acidity is more than lingering – and not pleasantly so as it leads to no sense of funk what so ever. Slightly plastic finish. The Lemon? Gimme a sec.

Slightly clouded amber ale under white rim and foam. On the nose, lemon furniture polish meets real lemon peel. In the mouth the lemon is more honest than the Kriek was a reflection – or even the shadow – of a cherry. Maybe because both have a overwhelming (added?) citric acidity. With that acid bite, there is lemon peel and lemon juice but also a little bit of wheaty cream. Still, even though this is really not super sweet, the effect is more annoying even if not cloying. Enamel stripping. Can’t finish it. Both tip the scale at only 3.5% – meaning, unfortunately, you will not have the benefit of having your senses dulled the slightest bit thoughout the entire experience.

By the way, the BAers are strangely attracted. Upon reflection I should have placed the dart in the photo one inch to the lower-left.

Belgium: Canaster, De Glazen Toren, Erpe-Mere

can1Here is a hint when you are traveling. If, after a tiring 600 km drive (to be followed the next day by another 600 km drive) you notice contract street sweeping equipment in the parking lot, get a new hotel. Street sweepers come and go in the night, you see. After idling their massive engines for fifteen minutes or so. It was like sleeping in a public works depot.

My only consolation was the bottle of Canaster I had brought. Labeled as a winterscotch-style ale I had brought it along as a reward for being me. It’s by the same good folk at KleinBrouwerij De Glazen Toren who made that saison I had last Thanksgiving. The beer is basically a Belgian brown with plenty of round brown maltiness, burlappy nutmegged yeast and some black tea and perhaps black malt astringency. It pours a thick sheeting cream head over chestnut ale. In the malt there is date and maybe dark raisin with a bit of a tobacco effect. It could have done with another something something but it was a very pleasant 9.5% brew that came across nothing as big as that. Plenty of BAer approval.

Not needing anything was the bottle of The Lactese Falcon Flanders Sour Brown Ale I picked up at Church-Key on the way home – you know, as a reward for being me. Yum – but I like the tastes of Parmesan cheese and Flemish sour beer and here they are in one brew. Plenty of roasted beef broth notes, vanilla, pear juice, balsamic, Worcestershire and Parmesan. Herself gets only molasses on schnozzal analysis. Somewhat controversial when it first appeared, here is a beer that intends to be itself – and one that may sort the style huggers from the brave and the free. I have another put away for a long sleep. I want to make sauces with it, soak meat in it – make welsh rarebit with it.

[Insert Beer] Wins [Insert Beer] Style Award

I have no real complaint over the 12,474,832 awards that are handed out for beers every year. I have never paid any attention to these things when making beer selection decisions – though, to be fair, when a label mentions a claim to one of them I think of it as red flag worthy of further investigation. “Antwerp 1931” only makes me wonder what the hell they’ve been doing for the last 76 years?!?!

But that is nowhere near as fun as this one, the beer that won the its own beer-style award:

Hoegaarden, the Original Belgian White Beer, was awarded its fourth consecutive World Beer Cup Gold Medal in the Belgian-Style White (or Wit)/Belgian-Style Wheat category at the 2008 Brewers Association World Beer Cup competition held recently in San Diego, Calif.

Don’t get me wrong – I am quite happy to have a Hoegaarden any time it is stinking hot. And I love most of its descendants the wittes and whites – except maybe for that one from Brouwerij Sint-Jozef…four years have not been enough to drive the furniture polish taste out of my memory. But, as mentioned and half of you will know, this is like awarding Adam the Annual First Guy Award. Hoegaarden is the defining standard and originator of the Belgian-Style White (or Wit)/Belgian-Style Wheat (aka 16A) which, oddly enough, comes from the place called Hoegaarden. It’s actually quite Hoegaarden-esque and, if Unger is to be believed, is one last legacy of the proud independent principality (or whatever) of Hoegaarden which lived as itself quite happily since the middle ages and subsisting on something they called “beer” that we call Hoegaarden.

So well done, Hoegaarden. You are the very essence of yourself.

Belgium: Gouden Carolus Easter Beer, Het Anker, Mechelen

I had been planning on having this beer today as one small nod to the once busy task of brewing beer for holidays. Time was there were beers made for every saint’s day, every profession and every celebration of a stage in life. Now we are restricted to Yule and a few stragglers like this one for Easter. I had even complained about a lack of Easter brews when I was planning The Session last spring so I am at least grateful to have this one to try.

But before going there, I have read how Greg Clow over at Beer, Beats, Bites has uncovered calamity itself and has pointed out that the powers that be have censored the very label on this very bottle. I am quite innocent of all such understanding as my bottle kindly forwarded by the distributor, though slapped with the “Extra Strong Beer” label required by the Federal Food and Drug Act, is quite free from any thing dealing with the wickedness of the bunny.

Apparently, it is not so much this version of the bunny label, however, but previous versions that may have given the government some concern as is illustrated under the photos below. You will have to click to see the truth. I cannot bear it:*

 

 

 

 

Frankly, the more curious thing to me is the legal basis for the authority for making such a decision to enforce the banning of the bunny. In my chapter in Beer & Philosophy, I wrote about quite a number of these ridiculous sort of rules and they were all based on some sort or actual regulation. Ontario’s Liquor Licence Act at clause 62.1(10.2) provides that the Lieutenant Governor in Council (aka some particular bureaucract) may make a regulation in relation to labels:

…governing the information that may or must appear on labels and containers of liquor sold or kept for sale at a government store…

The government store is defined as a store established under the Liquor Control Act which would be the LCBO. You see, generally the LLA governs the activiities of the AGCO while the LCC speaks to what the LCBO can do – make sense? Well, in any event, regulations can be made for labelling at the store – but, as Greg points out, these beers are not for sale “at a government store.” So, in addition to there not actually being a bunny reference, there must be some other power to control labels. Under the LCA, it states at section 3(1)(j) that “the purposes of the Board are, and it has power…to determine the nature, form and capacity of all packages to be used for containing liquor to be kept or sold…” That might be it. But then somewhere there has to be a written statement of standards…and one would expect that to be found in the LCBO’s Trade Resources. And there it is: at page three of the Simplified Canadian Label Requirements (warning: pdf!) it states that beer label may not have imagery which is “misleading or imply irresponsible use of the product”. Hmmm – not very detailed authority for banning a bunny but the introduction to the LCBO’s SCLR mentions other sources of rules, including the CFIA which has jusrisdiction under the the FDA. Under that Federal law, beer is food and there is law about the labeling of food at section 5(1) of the FDA:

No person shall label, package, treat, process, sell or advertise any food in a manner that is false, misleading or deceptive or is likely to create an erroneous impression regarding its character, value, quantity, composition, merit or safety.

Could it be that beer is not meritorious enough to be associated with a rabbit? No, I think that we need to find the regulation that actually details this bunny stuff. The Food and Drug Regulations happily define in law what beer is but while section B.02.130(b)(vii)
allows for “irish moss seaweed of the species Chondrus crispus” it does not allow at all for Oryctolagus cuniculus – the European rabbit. Could it be under Canadian law the rabbit is not so much banned as just not included?

Anyway, I am having mine tonight in celebration of the resurrection of Jesus 2025 years ago and, in a bit, I will note down what I thought of the beer inside the bunny-fouled packaging.

Later: the beer pours the colour of seasoned pine lumber with a wild rocky head that quickly subsides. At 10%, one has to be somewhat responsible so I have nipped away at this one consious that the bottle has the equivalent strngth of five and a half ounces of rum. But it does not stick out as much as it might despite this being a quite mild mannered pale ale. It is somewhat tripel-esque but things can merge somewhat stylistically at this strength. Safe to call it a Belgian Pale Strong Ale as it is each of those things.

There is plenty of aromatic graininess, a little bit of mild apple and honey in the malt, a bit of a musty side and a nice cream note to the heart of it. There is a bit of a bite that makes me think there could be some wheat in the grist, too, but I know nothing about these things. The brewery says that the particular twist offered by this beer is the addition of three herbs but they do not stand out to my taste, though there is definitely a twiggy aspect. They also say “served with pride it isdrunken with respect.” Perfect – just as I like to be. Plenty of BAer love. Too bad it’s blighted by that frigging bunny.

*…it’s more than I can bear to think of you seeing these…

Sour Beer Studies: Kriek 100% Lambic, Cantillon, Brussels

I shared with one to the shock and dismay of my guests two years ago but I’ve grown up so much since then I thought I would revisit it to see what I thought. Back then I use the word poo which seemed to tick off a crank. Apparently some who write “barnyard” have never been in a barnyard. Let’s see how this goes today when it’s just me and the glass and a sticker on top saying I spent nine bucks for the 375 ml of the 2006 bottling.

Pop. There it is. Gravenstein apple and beef cattle holding structure. You will have to excuse me as I grew up in the Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia and actually recognize the scents. Yet they are not repulsive. Not at all. Rather they are evocative this time. It looks lovely – pouring a clear deep blush – the colour of rosé wine, with a fleeting white foam that disappears after a few seconds. In the mouth there is less harshness than I recall even with the strident acidity. I must be weakening.

In the first sip, there is that green apple acid, a general fruit berry thing that I can associate with cherry if I think about the idea of a mouthful of under ripe pin cherries grown on the unrelenting North Atlantic brushland. There is also a little cheesy, yogurty rich funky tang that needles at you a bit but is overshadowed by the snap of the sour. More than anything it reminds me of the austere dryness of the wine I made with my own vines and my own hands back in 2003. As I get into it, though, I get the sweet fresh cherry layer. It opens up ever so grudgingly. My teeth feel slightly stripped of enamel but with a fruit note in the mix of dissolving calcium.

What can I say? If it were not for the specific acidity that mimics one under ripe variety of Maritime Canadian apple that happened to grow where I grew, I would not know what to make of this stuff. A theory of fruit preservation put in stark action? BAers still approve but I am still disappointed with my understanding of why I need that much acid in my body.

Sour Beer Studies: Gueuze, Girardin, Sint-Ulkis-Kapelle, BE

gira1The 2006 edition of Great Beers of Belgium showed up today and I thought that I had better pop a cork in its honour. A Girardin Gueuze seemed just the thing. The “1882” on the label is the date when the current family took over the brewery and they brew comprehensively, perhaps still with no other staff. Jackson noted:

They grow their own wheat, brew Lambic in winter and produce a Pils in summer. The Girardins use 40 per cent wheat in their Lanic, and still have a mill that grinds the grain between stones, as well as a more modern one with metal cylinders. “We continue to use the stones for some of the grist,” Lousi told me, “in case it contributes to the character of the beer.”

I like that “in case” a fine expression of traditional conservatism. Jackson called it one of the most complex beers he had ever tasted. The black label (or in Flemish Zwart etiket) appears to indicate unfiltered [Ed.: ie fond] while a white label (or Wit etiket) would not [Ed.: ie filtré]…though neither Ed nor I quite know why “etiket” in Flemish means “label” in English. I bet Ron knows.

On the pour, the funk jumps out of the madly growing off white head that soon fall back at a leisure pace. Barnyard. Very evocative of poo and stall of a former neighbour’s beef cattle barn. Plus rice wine vinegar as well as Gravenstein apple. But it is all wrapped around a small core of sweet. Once in the mouth, the barnyard knows and takes its place letting other flavours come forward. Overall, this is a far less austere Lambic experience compared to the stridency of Cantillon, even their gueuze. Relatively (by which I mean relatively) soft as well as acidic – an odd combination to describe but think mandarine orange juice without any orange flavour and a good slug of rice wine vinegar. Plenty of grain, a little lemon and a lot white grapefruit citrus, a little wheat cream even. Grassiness in the middle which morphs a little into something that is like a hint of licorice. Dry and acid and moreish in the finish. Fabulous. Love it. I am going to buy this beer whenever I see it. I promise me so.

Plenty of BAer love. $7.99 for 37.5 cl from Bello Vino in Ann Arbor Michigan.

Beer At Yule: La Moneuse SWA, Brasserie De Blaugies, Belgium

We’ve had a look at a few beers from Brasserie de Blaugies: Darbyste , a fresh figgy saison (that I was calling a lambic for some reason); Saison d’Epeautre spelt saison; and La Moneuse, their rustic straight up saison. This is the final of the brewer’s four brews to try. It’s an upgrade of La Moneause, their 8% special winter ale or SWA from the 2004 bottling that I have held in the now very attractive stash from last winter to this one.

After the cage was removed, the cork barely needed a touch to pop out of the mouth. The beer pours a slightly clouded amber butterscotch with a fine thick rich off-white head. Fabulous in the mouth, a great pale ale starting out with a light pear-lemon sour tang followed by honey apple juiciness morphing into pale malt bread crust grain subsiding into a hint of white pepper and pear at the end of the end. There is a hint of nutmeg in the yeast but the whole thing is pretty restrained and keep in balance.

Plenty of BAer love. A really wonderful saison that you should hoard and keep to yourself.