#250 – Les Brasseurs Tripel

 

Les Brasseurs Tripel

Size: cask

ABV:  5.5 %

Stag parties tend to drink quicker than average; which in Belgium can be pretty dangerous. The poor Best Man will tend to hold the pocketful of age-weathered bank-notes and begrudgingly have to order a round of drinks every time the quickest drinker finishes his; and everybody else is too embarrassed to decline a drink so will continue to drink apace. In this case our quickest drinker was one of those more mature gentlemen who spends the majority of his time at the bar in England quaffing three or four pints of real ale every hour and never ever getting even slightly tipsy. This was very bad news.

We had only been in Les Brasseurs de la Grand Place for about eight minutes and we were already on to round two, which included the time it took to order from the bar. Table service seemed to have dried up at the moment the proprietors clocked it was a stag party, although from what I have heard about this place it could just as likely have been their customary incalcitrance. This brewpub is quickly having its reputation tarnished as an unfriendly tourist trap, which of course my party were not helping in any way with.

The location though is damned impressive; set literally just an inch off the Grand Place in Brussels. On a warmer day one can sit outside with a fag and a beer and watch one of Europes finest city squares go about its business. Today though it was cold, and we were all firmly indoors, which is also something of a pleasure. As soon as you enter Les Brasseurs you are immediately faced with the copper brew kettles on your left, from which seemingly miles of steel tubing wends away around the bar, upstairs, and into various atmospheric niches, nooks and crannies. The brewpub is set on three levels and the owners have done well to cram it all in so snugly. If you get bored tried to follow the maze of tubes with your eyes, then there is plenty of breweriana to explore.

Les Brasseurs de la Grand Place opened in the summer of 2001, and occupies a splendid looking building in the corner of the square. It was once a grocers, hardware store and even a concert hall, before finally ending up a famous coffee house in the 14^th Century. It was only after a terrible fire in more recent times that the premises changed to one of Belgium’s most famous microbreweries. They continue to serve Brussels tourist fraternity by everyday drinking hours, and only somehow find the time to brew overnight when the public have finally been shoe-horned out the premises. It’s an expensive place to drink as you would expect, and they clearly make a lot of money given the daily throughput.

I recently read a comment about Les Brasseurs along the lines of “it could and should be so much more”, which is really quite painfully true. Here sits a microbrewery set in the very beating heart of a beer drinking capital which doesn’t seem to really take care of its customer. Les Brasseurs seem to have targeted their market at the average tourist, as opposed to any particular beer aficionado, and I feel their beer portfolio probably reflects this well. The Tripel was distinctive in its flavour but not particularly memorable. It was quite pale and a little flat, and I had hardly time to dwell on anything else before somebody was lining up my next one. Sigh

#239 – Old Buccaneer Reserve

#239 - Old Buccaneer Reserve

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

The fact that here again is another pirate-themed beer seems to back up the fact that these sea-faring plunderers are synonymous with beer and booze. From the annals of buccaneers in the Caribbean to the modern day pirates of Somalia – the common denominator seems to be the natural proclivity to guzzle alcohol. It is a generally accepted myth that virtually the only initiation test a pirate needed to pass was to be able to drink a large boot of beer straight down.

Whilst beer may have played some role on dry land it is probably far more likely that pirates, corsairs and buccaneers would have been drinking other varieties of lubrication once asail. Wine kept well on long voyages and was generally stronger than beer and thus was a popular brew, and of course all pirates are associated with rum. Due to the increased strength and its durability it was the natural choice to take away to sea. It was often much safer to drink than water which wouldn’t have stored particularly well, and so pirates drinking booze was probably quite a sensible choice.

For the exact same reasons gin was also very popular, but pirates didn’t lack creativity. With plenty of time at sea there is recorded evidence that pirates made cocktails to liven up their crew. Bumboo is a fairly well known drink which is a mixture of dark rum, lemon juice and spices, and Flip would be similar to the above but with the addition of egg yolk. Rumfustian was another popular drink and tended to consist of similar ingredients to Flip but with added sherry and gin. Interestingly it seems to be accepted that the popular Mediterranean drink Sangria may have originated on a pirate ship under the name Sangaree where pirate bartenders would combine left over fruit with red wine – anything to avoid scurvy!

Perhaps the best known marine cocktail however has to be Grog. Many of us may commonly use this term to refer to beer or booze in general but in seafaring days of yore, Grog was a drink which was pretty much brewed in the kettle using rum, beer, oatmeal and spices. These ingredients would probably have been in plentiful supply and it isn’t hard to see why Grog was so popular. Whilst the pirates may have drunk Grog, the credit for inventing it seems to lay with Vice Admiral Edward Vernon who introduced the brew into the Royal Navy in 1740 as a remedy for improving health. He always wore a coat made of grogram cloth and thus became known as Old Grog. Grog is still commonly made nowadays but tends to be served warm and made sweeter with sugar which no doubt improves the taste no end.

The grog now sitting in my Belgian beer glass was strictly the barley variety and is actually a label beer made by Van Steenberge. More popularly known as Bornem Tripel, it was created to pad out the du Boucanier range which was sold and distributed through Icobes (#237). It is likely this association is very limited now as I rarely see these beers anymore in reputable beer shops, and this beer is long retired – although the Bornem variant still lives on. The Old Reserve was actually a better beer than some of the others in the range with equal measure of fizz and flavour. A standard fruity tripel which at least got your palate talking to your brain, although one which I wouldn’t buy it again even if I could.

#238 – Bosprotter

#238 - Bosprotter

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8.5 %

Some time ago I asked Jef Goetelen, the brewmaster and owner of t’Hofbrouwerijke if he could explain the story behind the names of some of his beers. It is often a quandary to monolinguistic people like me trying to write about beers written and made in another language. I’m glad I asked, as I wasn’t expecting Bosprotter to be a reference to people that fart in the forest.

Whilst clearing ones pipes in a designated outdoor area is probably more eco- and family-friendly than not, I was relieved to hear that the term forest-farter has a less literal meaning when translated from Flemish to English. A bosprotter is a mountain-biker, and when Jef isn’t brewing beer, and whilst his brews are fermenting each week he and his fellow bosprotters can often be found in the woods getting muddy and scaring the local wildlife!

The Bosprotter was Jefs first proper beer, and the odd title for a beer is one which is symbolic of Jefs approach to brewing, which he sees as more of a hobby than a full time job. Jefs love of forest-farting is no different to his love of brewing beer, which considering the professional set up of equipment at t’Hofbrouwerijke is surprising – Jef rebuilt his entire house to accommodate the current brewing facilities. Jef may only consider his brewing to be a hobby but many of his beers have met with high acclaim. This is clearly a result of having good kit and having practiced for many years getting it right, but I will save that story for maybe the next beer.

The Bosprotterin question which took a little while to pour and settle, was a proper home-made Tripel. It was evident that it was unfiltered and unpasteurised and underneath the slowly dissipating head sat a rich golden coloured beer. There was definitely some unique sweet and spicy flavours in there which was professionally accompanied by some good old fashioned maltiness. The beer tended to fade somewhat the longer it was in the glass which was a bit of a shame, but I’d still say it’s worth a shot if you see it in sitting on the shelves. The newer labels should easily identify it now, and at least back up the title of the beer more appropriately with what looks like an old fart in the forest making beer!

Bosprotter's new identity

#234 – Ondineke Oilsjtersen Tripel

#234 - Ondineke Oilsjtersen Tripel

Size: 750 ml

ABV: 8.5 %

The Ondineke Oilsjtersen Tripel, is the official beer of the town of Aalst. De Glazen Toren are the brewery who make this interesting beer, and are based in the hamlet of Erpe Mere which sits just outside the town. Oilsjtersen Tripel essentially translates into the Tripel from Aalst.

De Glazen Toren have chosen the spindly female character Ondineke to represent the beer, and who depending on the vintage of the beer, you can find gracing the beautifully decorated red and yellow paper labels. She is the main character from a famous book by the Flemish author Louis Paul Boon. The book is called De Kapellekensbaan, and is largely considered to be the authors literary masterpiece – so much so that it was widely touted as a potential winner of the 1972 Nobel Prize for Literature.

Ondineke clearly means something to the people of Aalst, despite the main subplot of the book being her continued fruitless efforts to rid herself of the place. Born as a feisty working class girl, she attempts to use her all the charms she has available to her to influence a better life for herself elsewhere. Ondineke’s labours are set in the industrial 1900s however the critique and author commentary style of the book is largely set much later in the century.  It is a somewhat chaotic book which reflects the personality of the author at the time who was wrestling with his inner Marxist demons. Gone it would seem were the idealistic aspirations which had shaped much of his early work, and what was left was a gritty taste of small town realism. It seems to suit the Belgium I know quite well, unless of course you like beer.

I have yet to visit Aalst, but I’m told if you visit you will probably come across Ondineke in some capacity. The local beer shops will no doubt stock plenty of the beer, there is a café of the same name, and if you visit the City Hall there is a cute copy of a sculpture of Ondineke which was recently moved there to protect it from vandalism. The original can be found at the Stedelijk Museum in the old fish market.

The beer itself was particularly enjoyable. I was frequenting one of those classic Pakistani kebab restaurants in the East End of London where they encourage you to bring your own booze, and although it probably could have benefited from being a bit cooler; it was the perfect accompaniment to a great meal. Ondineke Oilsjtersen Tripel is a classic Tripel which has a unique taste of its own; probably from the addition of a good dose of liquid candi sugar. The beer is double hopped with local produce, and no further spice is added, and the result is an aromatically pungent thick orange brew which stands out from the usual mainstream Tripel. It certainly got the seal of approval from my fellow diners who felt they were missing out on something with their cheap wine and tins of Aussie lager.

#229 – Tripel Karmeliet

#229 - Tripel Karmeliet

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8.4 %

I am surprised as anyone that it has taken this long to try this beer. After the Dulle Teve (#228) and some wonderful aged Chimay Blue (#45) from the depths of the Kulminator cellar it was time to try this highly rated Tripel.

In many ways the Tripel Karmeliet is a new beer; launched by the quirky Bosteels brewery in 1996, however the original recipe is said to hail from the former Carmelite monastery in Dendermonde. It was there in 1679 that friars made a beer brewed not only with barley, but also wheat and oats – proof that multi-grain isn’t a 21^st century phenomenon. It is now heavily spiced and flavoured with Styrian hops which may have been beyond the friars, as was the bottle refermentation, but the idea was the same.

The Karmeliet, or Carmelites, were an influential bunch in Europe in the late 17^th Century when this beer was first conceptualised. The Order is said to have originated on Mount Carmel near Haifa in Israel. The mountain has significant Biblical relevance in its connections to the prophet Elijah, and has long been a refuge for hermits laying down their lives to God – long before a 12^th Century chapel was built in honour of Mary by the hermetical Brothers of St Mary of Mount Carmel. It was here that the typical characteristics of the Carmelite Order were formed; notably the importance of poverty and manual labour, and latterly the devotion to silent prayer.

Around 1235 the Carmelites were forced to flee Israel under threat of the Saracen invaders and Europe was the obvious destination for many. Over the next two hundred years the Carmelite Orders grew in importance and power, and monasteries blossomed in this new spiritual and intellectual age. Relying on their own labour and alms it was a natural inclination to begin to brew beer for the local population and save them from the evils of disease-ridden water. Of course the Carmelites would have met their match during the French Revolution and they have been virtually wiped off the map apart from small areas of the Netherlands and Belgium.

In the Tripel Karmeliet however the Ordo Carmelitarum lives on, and lives on in style. This is a robustly delicious brew which is instantly recognisable on first looks, and then taste. Its appearance, most notably served in the ostentatious and slightly tacky fleur-de-lys glass, is a light blond carbonated brew, which once put to the nose offers up a miasma of citrus and spice. The mix of wheat and oats into the grist gives the beer a uniquely dry, crisp and refreshing flavour which is bitter and sweet, and yet fruity and hoppy at the same time. It tantalises your tastebuds and defies you to order another. Dont be fooled though – At 8.4% this particular beer needs respect. The Order of Carmelites are well known for their fantastical visions, and I had one or two myself the next morning.

#228 – Dulle Teve

#228 - Dulle Teve

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 10 %

This beer found me in Antwerp, and when in Antwerp there really is only one place to be – the Kulminator bar. We found a cosy couple of seats at the bar and eventually a dog-eared menu. It would be a long night, and a very long hangover, and it all started with a Mad Bitch.

Kris Herteleer, the enigmatic head brewer at de Dolle, would have people believe that this beer is named after his mother Moes, who in her mid nineties has been known to conduct tours around the Esen-based brewery. While there may be some truth behind this, there is actually another very good reason for the presence of this beer in the de Dolle range, which all stems from the history of the brewery here in the heart of West Flanders.

As the date etched onto one of the buildings in the main yard will testify there has been a building here since as far back as 1835. At that time a local doctor by the name of Louis Nevejan had set up a small brewery and distillery on the premises. Nevejan would eventually pass on in the year 1882, and the property and its trade was sold to Louis Costenoble whose family for three generations ran the brewery and distillery. In 1980 the Costenoble family ran out of interested parties to take on the business and so again the premises were put up for sale. It was at this point that the de Dolle brothers were messing about with home brews fairly seriously and were unhappy to see the loss of another local brewery. They stumped up the cash and decided to take a chance on improving their recipes in more professional surroundings.

The brewery had been inactive for a little while and so there was plenty of clearing up to be done which brothers Jo and Kris began promptly. As they began to prepare the premises for fresh brewing they discovered many old reminders from the Costenoble days – a number of which were old 250 ml bottles with labels still glued on. Costenoble had been brewing a 6% beer called de Dulle Teve for the local Het Niew Museum pub, and here were the only reminders of that time. The de Dolle Brouwers decided to recreate this beer, albeit somewhat more potently, and kept the same labels – a drawing by a local artist from Bruges.

The brewers were very keen to make a strong tripel and de Dulle Teve certainly lives up to the billing. The name, which essentially translates as Mad Bitch in English certainly conjures up how you might feel if you have had a few of these. It poured a murky golden hue, and sat menacingly looking at me from the glass. I wasn’t sure at first but as it started to warm up in the heady atmosphere of the bar all the typical de Dolle flavours began to swim with me. Made with pure malt, and candi sugar it was solid, strong and full of dark undertones which I couldn’t quite define but to be honest I didn’t really care. I wouldn’t label it a classic but I would certainly drink it again given another chance just to see if it was able to recreate the moment. I understand this beer has been rebranded simply as Tripel in the US as the name was deemed inappropriate. After writing about Satan Red (#215) that fact doesn’t really surprise me.

#217 – Grimbergen Tripel

#217 - Grimbergen Tripel

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

Only beer #217 and it was with some relief that I reached the end of the Grimbergen range with the Tripel. I’m not saying that these beers are awful in anyway, but if ever there was an example of mass marketed mediocrity then this is it. This is an accusation often levelled at Leffe, but to be fair I’d take the Leffe Blonde (#41) over any of the Grimbergen beers any day.

It was only a few beers ago when I went exploring the Grimbergen website to search for the Goud/Doree (#212) and it was there that I found something most peculiar. Everything was in order on the Belgian version of the website, but somehow I had also managed to end up on a slightly different version of the website which presented me with what could only amount to a parallel universe. Where I was previously perusing through the Grimbergen Blonde (#8), and Grimbergen Dubbel (#9), I suddenly found myself at the end of a long dusty wardrobe staring out at an alien wintry landscape – there in full Grimbergen regalia stood a Grimbergen Blanche, and a Grimbergen Rouge. I rubbed the centre of my eyes to dramatic effect and looked again only for a Grimbergen Ambree to bounce into view. I really had entered some awful version of Beer Narnia.

With the horrific realisation that I might have to try more Grimbergen beers, I panicked and stumbled back through the wardrobe grasping at the fur lined coats and gasping for breath. As I sat in a puddle on the floor I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. I tried the website again. Nothing. I searched for Grimbergen. Nothing. I even checked with the O’Mighty one at ratebeer. Still confused. I looked back through the wardrobe and there was nothing but a sturdy oak panel. Christ, what did they put in that Val-Dieu Tripel (#216)?

Once my mind was straight(er) I was able to eventually find my way back to the reality which all stems from the history of takeovers which have punctuated the existence of the Brasserie Union; from its days as Alken-Maes, to the takeover by Carlsberg, and now where it sits under the watchful sentry of Kronenbourg. The latter of course are a monolithic beer producer in France, and all the apparitional beers which clouded my judgment do exist but more notably for the French market. There is even a Grimbergen La Reserve which I’m still working out whether I need to consider adding to my Odyssey. For now though I’m drinking the Grimbergen Tripel with the view that this will be my last for quite some time.

In fairness this may not have been that bad a beer. Although the pour was particularly flat with little sign of any lasting head, and that there was a certain flatness to the carbonation – the taste was quintessentially Tripel. There was some medium spicing and a good level of alcohol which you would expect from a beer of 9% ABV. I would go as far as saying this was the pick of the range that is marketed in Belgium – and I will leave it there for now. I have grudgingly accepted that that there is no quelling that damned Phoenix.

#216 – Val-Dieu Triple

#216 - Val-Dieu Tripel

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

The Brasserie de L’Abbaye du Val-Dieu is in actual fact the only non-Trappist brewing Abbey in Belgium. I won’t go into the history of the Abbey as I covered that when christening the Val-Dieu Biere de Noel (#127) but that opening gambit is certainly an interesting enough nugget of factoid to whet my appetite for the Val-Dieu Triple.

The whole rules and regulations thing which governs becoming ordained as a Trappist brewery has been covered before (#7) although I will need to refresh slightly to explain how the Abbey at Val-Dieu was left high and dry. Firstly in 1997 the brewery at the Abbey ceased to function as a fully operational monastery – there were simply not enough monks remaining. Today at the brewery all the main duties are carried out by laymen, and it looks likely to remain this way for the foreseeable future, despite the fact the Abbey remains a fully functioning religious institution.

The other issue, which is much more complicated is that which relates to the subtle differences between Trappists and Cistercians. For a starter explanation have a read of the Witkap Pater Tripel (#94) but essentially the Cistercians were a splinter group from the Benedictines, and the Trappists were a splinter group from the Cistercians. It’s very loose, but essentially the Trappists are actually known as ‘Cistercians of the Strict Observance’, and they focus far more attention on being contemplative. This aside – the bottom line is that the Abbey at Val-Dieu is Cistercian and always has been.If this religious pendancy wasn’t quite so rigid we would see far more designated breweries across the world than the Magnificent Seven we have in Belgium (and the Netherlands). In particular in Germany there are many non-Trappist monasteries producing beer just like the one at Val-Dieu. Its just they aren’t Trappist.

Anyway, the beers in question that are produced at Aubel are based upon an original recipe from the Val-Dieu monks, and they bear the hallmark which designates them as Authentic Belgian Abbey Beer. The Val-Dieu Triple regardless of its designation was a particularly decent beer – as standard a tripel as I could describe in terms of looks, aroma and taste. It was sweet, strong and quite dry on tasting but it didn’t jump out in any way from its competitors. In many ways, just as all the above will confirm, it really is the nearly-man of Belgian beer.

#212 – Grimbergen Goud / Doree

#212 - Grimbergen Goud (Doree)

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8 %

Yep. Who would believe it? Another bloody Grimbergen. This time it’s the turn of the Grimbergen Goud or Doree, depending on your linguistic preference. If you still need a translation then you can call it the Grimbergen Gold.

I have previously spent a fair amount of time writing about the Grimbergen Abbey (#8), and the new world following the take over by AB/InBev (#9), but I hadn’t really concentrated on the Grimbergen brand. I may as well have a look at that as it’s something that the marketeers in the new world are taking very seriously. Anybody who disbelieves me is free to click on to their website – http://www.grimbergenbier.be/, where a quite beautiful animation tells us the legendary story of the Grimbergen phoenix on the label.

You will recall that the Abbey at Grimbergen has had a tumultuous history, being razed to the ground on numerous occasions, but each time it rebuilt itself and rose again to greatness. The phoenix was the perfect symbol to identify with this history, and in 1629 was chosen as the emblem of the Abbey. The mythical bird has been revered throughout history for its infinite ability to regenerate itself from the ashes – from the Persians, through the Greeks, to the Romans. Even in modern day England, the football team Aldershot Town have the symbol of the phoenix on its club badge since it too has faced a massive period of rebirth following financial meltdown.

The motto of the Grimbergen brand sums up the history perfectly – Ardet Nec Consumitur – Burned but never destroyed. It accompanies the phoenix on the Abbeys coat of arms and can be seen etched magnificently into the buildings stained glass windows – another image which iconically finds itself on the beer label. It was almost with a renewed sense of sympathy and reverence that I unpopped the golden cap to the Grimbergen Goud/Doree.

The beer poured a somewhat flat earthy blonde with a particularly disappointing head that had faded before I’d even brought the beer to my lips. There was little carbonation or aroma to speak of and I was typically disappointed with the taste which certainly didn’t go anywhere further than the Blonde (#8) had. The beer is given a third fermentation in the bottle, and is enriched with aromatic hops but I couldn’t tell the difference. This was just another tame beer which is superfluous to a very tame range, and once I had finished with the bottle I stuck this at the very bottom of the recycling in the hope that finally the phoenix might give up its struggle.

#210 – Triple Moine

#210 - Triple Moine

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 7.3 %

When is a new beer not a new beer? The answer to this question became obvious on my brewery tour of Du Bocq. Following a mystifying non-English speaking jaunt around the premises I was delighted to settle in the brewery tap and select my free beer from the bar. I’d opted for the Deugniet (#64) for no other reason than it had a jaunty picture of a jester on the label and I’d never seen it before. As I recall it was a reasonable beer, and it was with beer in hand that I approached the bar and attempted to engage the bar girl in some inane beer chat. It’s what the English are good at.

“Sho”, she says in a thick Flemish drawl, “thees Deugniet beer you are drinking eest the same as these one here”, pointing at the small bottle of beer behind the bar with the dull brown label that didn’t have a jaunty picture of a jester on the label. “Excuse me?”, I said trying my best not to sound Dutch. “Yesh, they are the shame beers, but for different markets – the Deugniet eest for the Dutch speaking people, and the Triple Moine eest for the French speaking people”. I’ll spare the rest of the conversation from these pages, but it essentially covered the Belgium Conundrum, and one of course which has resonated through the politics of the country for the last year or so. Belgium is divided of course and if it helps to sell beer then why not market the same beer to two different populations?

I’ll tell you why not – because it fucks with my counting! Is the Triple Moine a new beer? It’s not is it? It’s the same beer but it’s just called something different. I decided the matter needed investigating, and once I was back in the UK I started to poke around. I noticed the small farmyard brewery at St Monon did it. Their Ambree for example doubles up as a number of brand beers for local breweries. Lefebvre have done it also – their Floreffe Double (#40) is also a double of the Durboyse Brune; their Floreffe Wit is also their Blanche de Bruxelles. Brasserie de Silly have done it, Millevertus have done it, and Van Steenberge – well they are guilty beyond belief.

I needed to make a judgment call and decided to rest my case on the tasting. I much preferred this one to the Deugniet. It looked the same as you would expect, but this seemed to be more fruity than I noted from the brewery tap. It had a decent afterkick and it lasted well to the end of the beer. I am beginning to learn that on different occasions and under different conditions, beers often can taste very different, even if they are actually the same. For that reason, and because a different label can tell a different story I am counting them. In this case a new beer actually is a new beer, though there isn’t much of a story on this one. Moine means monk, and that’s about as interesting as it gets.

#207 – Silly Enghien Noel Tripel Blonde

#207 - Silly Enghien Noel Triple Blonde

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

The Silly brewery acquired the Enghien range of beers in 1975, when they took over the Tennstedt Decroes family brewery in the town of Enghien. The staple beer at the time was the Speciale Double Enghien, which is now more commonly known as the Double Enghien Brune. Over the years the Silly Enghien Blonde, and the Silly Enghien Noel Triple Blonde have been added to their range.

The Brasserie du Pot d’Etain as it was known was founded way back in 1880 and only just fell short of its centenary celebrations, when the Van der Haegen-Mynsbrughen family did the business deal with the local Tennstedt-Decroes family. This ensured the continuation of the Enghien beers with an already well established brewery in the locality. It seems a shame though not to dwell on some of these now defunct breweries, and so I would like to concentrate for the rest of this review on the original name of the brewery.

Pot d’Etain is actually a common title in France or Belgium and is often used in the names of breweries, hotels or bars. It actually translates into English as The Pewter Pot – a type of lidded drinking vessel often used in bygone days. Pewter is a metal alloy, mostly made of tin but mixed with other metals such as copper, bismuth, antimony and lead. Before the widespread manufacture of glass, most items of tableware throughout Europe in the 17^th and 18^th Centuries were made of pewter. Although not widely used anymore there is almost a deferential nostalgia for beer steins made of pewter and it is widely held by scientists that the pewter ensures the consistent temperature of the beer, protecting it from the warm hands of human beings. As a boy I remember my dad having a pewter beer pot sitting in the sideboard in the lounge gathering dust for a special occasion. I must ask him what he did with it.

I’m not sure how the Silly Enghien Noel Triple Blonde might have tasted in a Pot d’Etain, but at least in the glass I had chosen I could apply the routine inspection of the full beer before tasting, which was a medium bodied darker blonde. It had a real essence of farmyard to the aroma, and I was surprised how hoppy it was on the tongue. It certainly started out not unlike the XX Bitter (#131), or the Buffalo Belgian Bitter (#196) although at 9% ABV I expected it to retain its flavour a bit more which did fade a little as I supped. It didn’t particularly strike me as a typical Christmas beer, but I guess it was an excuse for Silly to raise the stakes on the 7.5% Silly Enghien Double Blond, which I would argue is a success. There aren’t that many strong bitter triple blondes out there worth a try, but I would recommend a solitary bottle of this for the cellar. Why not even go one better and try it in a pot d’etain?

#190 – Arend Tripel

#190 - Arend Tripel

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8 %

Arend Tripel is a beer made by the de Ryck brewery, and is just one of a range of Arend beers that is made in homage to the previous incarnation of this brewery.

It all started back in 1886, when the eponymous Gustaaf de Ryck bought a small landholding in the village of Herzele for the princely sum of 5000 Belgian Francs (the equivalent now of just 124 Euros). He collected some ramshackle equipment and built a functioning brewery more for a hobby than anything. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing though, and locals were desperate for some decent beer, so he packed his bags for Bremen in Germany. There were no brewing schools in Belgium at the time, and thus he needed to travel to learn the art of brewing. He soon returned with imported tubs and kettles and launched his new venture – De Gouden Arend (The Golden Eagle), named in honour of his brewing mentor in Germany.

Things went very well until World War I, when ironically the German forces took over the village and seized the brewery’s horses and kettles, forcing it to close. There was another brewery in the village by now called Dooreman’s and de Ryck continued to soldier on brewing using their equipment. Once the war was over and the Germans had been vanquished, Gustaaf was determined to reinvent the brewery, and did so immediately ridding himself of the link to the German’s who had almost ruined his dream. He chose to rename the brewery after himself, and from this day on this small family brewery has been known as de Ryck.

The Arend beers are hence a recent incarnation, but still bear the logo of the Golden Eagle. I first got my hands on the Arend Tripel which was a fairly enjoyable standard clean and crisp blond tripel, and certainly not in my opinion worthy of the best Belgian tripel which it won in the European Beer Star competition in 2008. According to de Ryck, this was a prestigious international prize although I guess they would say that. I am never clear how these awards are considered, but I challenge anybody to compare this to the Westmalle Tripel (#149).

#183 – ‘T Smisje Tripel

#183 - 'T Smisje Tripel

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

The brewery Smisje has been around since 1995, but began life as the Brouwerij De Regenboog. In fact it was known under this name right up until 2008 when the owner Johan Brandt moved his premises to Oudenaarde.

Brandt was born in 1963, and had trained in the graphics world for most of his tender years. He married Christine de Schepper in 1998 and soon had two sons called Stijn and Joris. The couple set up their own printing business which was fairly successful, and everything in the Brandt garden was rosy – yet the call of beer would eventually become too much. Johan was already brewing beer as a hobby, and thus the kit that was beginning to take over his home was the start of something special. Eventually, the beer did take over his life and he gradually reduced his work in printing, although continuing to use the name of his existing business, De Regenboog, which translates as ‘The Rainbow’.

The first beer produced at De Regenboog was simply known as ‘T Smisje, and was largely experimental in its nature. Brandt was also a bee-keeper and thus plenty of honey was used in this brew. The name ’T Smisje means ‘little blacksmith’, the connotation coming from a local blacksmith’s forge which was adjacent to the location of the Brandt house in Assebroek, a suburb of Bruges. This name was apt in that it in many ways sums up the hand-crafted artisanal nature of this first beer – although to be honest little has changed since. The range of beers from De Regenboog over the years have used a myriad of natural fruits, herbs and spices.

I had heard a fair bit about the beers from De Regenboog, and so when I saw a couple of bottles from the range in The Rake pub in Borough Market, there was never going to be any other choice. I started with the ‘T Smisje Tripel which was absolutely delicious, and bombarded me with the heady sweetness of vanilla and banana, coupled with the seriousness of a Westmalle Tripel (#149). The company was excellent also, bumping into inadvertently another beer blogger by the name of Impy Malting who is considerably further ahead in her writing than my good self. Anybody who travels half way across London to seek out beers of fancy is worth a read in my book.

 

#181 – Kasteel Triple

#181 - Kasteel Triple

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 11 %

This is the second and penultimate beer from the Kasteel range which has found its way down my throat. The first was the dark sweet cloying beast that is the Kasteel Donker (#93), where I had previously told the story of the history of the famous castle in Ingelmunster, up until 1986 when the brewing siblings Luc and Marc Van Honsebrouck moved in.

It hasn’t all been good news though since. In 2001 the beautiful moated building was devastated by a terrible fire. Work has been done ever since to restore the castle however so immense was the damage that at least two thirds are no longer open to the public. The structure does though remain, and has been bandaged up over the years to at least look better on the outside, but the heart and soul has literally been ripped out of this historic building. This is no better exemplified than by the loss of almost everything inside – family furniture, tapestries, sculptures and paintings all perished forever one September evening.

It also isn’t the first time that the castle has burnt down. This jinxed building and in fact the whole village of Ingelmunster was completely razed in 1695 following hostilities between English, French and Spanish soldiers. The rebuilding which followed under Hapsburg rule has led to the current design which has only just hung onto existence by the very skin of its teeth. In fact, the only area now safe for the public to enter is the Kasteelkelder, the atmospheric name for the castle’s basement. It is here where tourists and beer fans can enjoy tasting the famous Van Honsebrouck beers in their traditional castle shaped glasses.

The Kasteel Triple is another megalith of a beer. Weighing in at 11% you would need to ensure you had a designated driver if you were stopping in at Ingelmunster for a quick tipple. Somebody recently suggested to me that this beer is similar to the Bush Blonde (#164) by Dubuisson, and to be fair they aren’t too far wrong in terms of appearance and potency, however I feel the Kasteel Tripel has just a little more panache in the finish. There is some fruit in there, some spice and whatever that something is that just urges you to want another. This is by no means a professional ground-breaking brew, but it deserves its place as one of the better super-strength triples.

#175 – Pilaarbijter Blond

#175 - Pilaarbijter Blonde

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 7.5 %

There are two Pilaarbijter beers produced by Bavik, and I was drinking the Blond today. Pilaarbijter is a word that is largely disused in modern times, but was prevalent in the 16^th Century and meant ‘a hypocrite’, especially with regards to views on religion. The term literally translates into ‘pillar biter’. There is a very good reason why Bavik chose the name of this beer, but I will save that for the Pilaarbijter Bruin.

The real fun with this beer came when I discovered where the brewery got the image of the unfortunate looking gentleman biting the pillar on the label. If you study the painting of ‘Netherlandish Proverbs’ by Pieter Brueghel the Elder, you will eventually find the identical image – I say eventually, as it took me ages to pore through the detail. I won’t spoil the fun of pointing out its exact location so feel free to try and find it yourself. In fact, if you look close enough you can find over a hundred different proverbs being acted out in this crazy village scene.

The point of the painting wasn’t to catalogue as many Flemish proverbs of the time in art form, although it would have been a bloody good idea. Brueghel’s real aim was to define on canvas the pure stupidity of man. The original title of the painting was ‘The Folly of the World’, and if you look closely at the characters you can see the blank faces which Brueghel often used to represent fools in his work. Just sitting there picking out the characters got me thinking – surely there must be more proverbs which relate to my journey to drink and write about all these Belgian beers?

People mocked me when I began my Odyssey. Perhaps I was trying to hold an eel by the tail (to undertake a difficult task)? Or was I just simply yawning against the oven (to attempt more than I could manage)? It is worth bearing in mind though that once I have spilt my porridge I cannot scrape it all up again (once something is done it cannot be undone), and that the journey is not yet over until I can discern the church and steeple (do not give up until the task is fully complete). It may take many years but an odyssey is an odyssey after all. I still got plenty of empty fields to walk through yet!

Anyway in the midst of all these proverbs there’s a beer that needs my attention. The Pilaarbijter Blond was a decent one at that. There was enough body and strength to keep it interesting, and plenty of fruity citrus which blended well against a spicy backdrop. I would hazard a guess at peaches and lemons. I’m distracted. Sorry, I can’t leave without a few more brilliant 16th Century Flemish proverbs.

1. What is the good of a beautiful plate when there is nothing on it – some beers certainly look a lot better than they taste.

2. You shouldn’t cast roses before swine – yes, maybe I am wasting some of my time on drinking the unworthy!

3. Wild bears prefer each others company – I thank all the sad beer drinkers of the world for that!

#173 – Omer Traditional Blond

#173 - Omer Traditional Blond

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8 %

Omer Traditional Blond is a highly regarded beer whose recipe is based on one that has been passed down from generation to generation of the Vander Ghinste family. It all started way back in 1892 when Remi Vander Ghinste bought a brewery for his son Omer. As part of his gift, he named it the Brouwerijen Omer Vander Ghinste. This name stuck for another 85 years until 1977 when the brewery was renamed Bockor for commercial purposes.

The recipe for Omer has always been something of a secret, and each father of the family would pass it down to his own son. This has continued at the latest count for five generations, and the upshot is that the eldest son of every generation is called Omer, and hence becomes the head of the brewery.

The reason for this is particularly interesting. Back in 1892 it was unusual for brand names to be used for beers, moreover they were often named after the owner and the brewery. Omer Vander Ghinste had promoted his beer by making stained glass windows which incorporated the slogan ‘bieren Omer Vander Ghinste’, and after passing on the brewery (and recipe) in 1929 to his son Remi, it was deemed excessive to have to replace the expensive windows every time there was a change of owner. It was therefore decided that the name Omer would precede the name of each owner for every generation to come. This is true for Omer who followed Omer Remi in 1961, and then for Omer Jean in 2007 who still runs the company today.

Clearly this tale of old traditions has been the inspiration behind the name of this beer which celebrates the famous recipe, and of course keeps loyally to the same name. The beer itself is made from the highest quality malted barley from the Loire region of France, and uses three varieties of hops harvested from the fields of Germany, Slovenia and the Czech Republic. It is these hops which help to identify the sharp bitterness which this beer imparts on consumption. The Omer Traditional Blond is a good beer which is crisp and fruity, as well as hoppy and is very professionally produced. It doesn’t quite leave you gagging for the same beer again, but then I am becoming more and more choosy with each beer.

#165 – Chimay White

#165 - Chimay White

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8 %

This is my fourth and final Chimay (Red #7, Doree #49, Blue #45). Unless the monks decide to suddenly launch a new brew then I need to sum up succinctly and clearly all there is left to know about these famous beers.

It all started at the Abbey of Scourmont in 1850 when a group of monks from the Westvleteren Abbey of St Sixtus (#46) began a tiny settlement on the plateau near the town of Chimay. The land had long been barren, and it was a tough job transforming it into reasonable fertility. They built a small priory, added some farms, and of course a brewery and cheese factory followed. In 1871, Pope Pius IX granted the priory the status of an Abbey, and it was inaugurated later that year. The monks were able to turn their new settlement into a thriving living, one in which today they balance alongside the strict Cistercian ways. The brewing (in line with true Trappist traditions, #7) is still carried out on the premises, although the bottling is carried out in Baileux just a mile or two down the road.

The final beer in the jigsaw I affectionately call Chimay White, although it is also called ‘Cinq Cents’ more appropriately when sold in 750 ml bottles. The name comes from the French for ‘five centuries’, and was essentially renamed to celebrate the 500^th anniversary of the town of Chimay in 1986. The beer was actually invented though in 1966 by Father Theodore, it being the last of the Chimay beers to reach the market. It is essentially a hazy golden Tripel (often called Chimay Tripel), and is the lightest and brightest of the Chimay offering. It was chosen as the anniversary beer in 1986 due to the feeling that it most closely represented champagne!

The Chimay White certainly is more champagne than any of the other three, although it would be unfair to lead anyone on here. The beer is far more dry and hoppy than it is sweet and fizzy, and certainly wont burn a hole in anybodies pocket. It isn’t quite the beast though that the Blue is, as it is meant to be drunk young, and cellaring will do nothing but ruin it eventually. It does however have a lovely tart crisp taste which is polished off by hints of citrus and perhaps white wine. I enjoy this beer on warm afternoons in the sun and of course always look forward to drinking it again.

#161 – Achilles Serafijn Tripel

#161 - Achilles Serafijn Tripel

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8 %

The Achilles brewery was once just a hobby for Achiel van de Moer, who spent seven long years trialling a number of different efforts before finally deciding to open this great little microbrewery in 1999.

Achiel, after whom the brewery is named, now sustains his full income from brewing beers, having retired from his previous job as a music teacher. Having said that though the operations are still tiny – just three truck loads of beer are brewed every year! Despite the professional look of the bottles on the range of Serafijn beers, it is even more remarkable that this microbrewery is wedged into a crowded garage in the placid and unremarkable town of Itegem. Even if you manage to locate the town, it’s even less likely you will find the brewery without the latest state-of-the-art GPS system – there are no signposts.

At home, Achiel has, like many microbrewers in Belgium, converted his living quarters into his office and factory. Squeezed into every nook and cranny lie the kettles and tuns, and even a bottling line just waiting for the next batch. Achiel has even made room for a small beer bar/café in what used to be the family’s front room. It is extremely popular with the neighbours and local populace, and the extra revenue generated helps to support this great venture.

I caught up with Achiel on his stand at the Bruges Beer festival, and was happy to oblige in taking almost the whole range of his beers away for future drinkage. It wasn’t long until the Achilles Serafijn Tripel passed my lips though, and what a fine beer to start off with. It is generally heralded as the pinnacle of the series – a typical golden honeyed tripel, complete with a hoppy backbite which leaves you desperate for more. I am very much looking forward to finishing off the collection, and perhaps a trip out to the Serafijn Cafe.

(Post-Script) – The brewery is sadly currently up for sale, although there don’t appear to be many takers !

#153 – Tripel de Garre

#153 - Tripel de Garre

Size: on cask

ABV: 11.5 %

We started our Saturday evening on the tiles in a highly recommended bar, wedged into a tiny alley, just a stones throw from the main square in Bruges. The Staminee de Garre in fact sits on the shortest road in Bruges, De Garre, and it took us more than a little while to actually locate the place. Once we did however, we found it even more difficult to leave.

Our visit was largely down to the dramatic owner of the guesthouse in which we were staying. On our arrival he had welcomed us with a free round of Brugse Zot’s (#36) – the staple beer of Bruges, and I was keen to see whether he had any more adventurous taste in beer than the Zot. He pulled us closer in a conspiratorial huddle, looking sheepishly around for witnesses, and told us in a hushed whisper of this bar in town, that serves a beer so strong, that they have to ration you. He claimed it was his favourite beer, and was gone as if in a puff of smoke. He was back two minutes later, armed with a map and a pencil, and thus our plan for the first drink of the evening had been hatched.

It was a small intimate bar, set on two rustic floors, which creaked with character every time you lifted a foot or moved on your chair. It was completely packed on arrival, yet within minutes we had squeezed into a gap upstairs, and were ordering the special house beer. The Tripel de Garre is only available here, although is brewed especially for the bar by Van Steenberge. It is a potent 11.5%, and the thick orange coloured brew is served up in a unique thickset goblet, which serves to preserve the wonderful thick white frothy head. As if that wasn’t enough, each beer is accompanied by meaty chunks of the house cheese, and enough celery salt to dry out a table full of beer stains.

All in all, I look very fondly back on this beer. As a strong fruity thick sweet beer it was always going to score highly for me, but to drink this in a great bar with family helped to make the occasion. It is often true that a good beer tastes even better in the right atmosphere. Even my old man, who is a bona fide English ale drinker couldn’t argue with this one. We were all able to neck a couple each before we headed off to dinner, and so were unable to put the rationing to the test. I am reliably informed that the limit is 2 or 3 Tripel de Garre’s per person – although I am sure in these hard financial times, that the bar staff might avert their eyes once in a while.

To find the Staminee de Garre, click here

#151 – Straffe Hendrik

#151 - Straffe Hendrik

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 9 %

The Straffe Hendrik hasn’t always had things it’s own way. Life certainly hasn’t always been kind, and the fact that the beer is still alive and tastes so damn good is one of the great miracles of Belgian beer.

The original Straffe Hendrik beer was only launched in 1981, by the Brouwerij de Halve Maan. It weighed in at about 7.5% – 8%, and was only available in small kegs. It was named after the original brewer of the Die Maene (The Moon) brewery, as it was back then. His name was Leon Maes, but was affectionately known as Henri I. The beer was particularly potent, and thus it became known in Flemish as Heavy Henry (Straffe Hendrik). The beer is thus greatly symbolic of the brewery, as a succession of head brewers were all sequentially named Henri.

The symbolism of the beer was such, that in 1988, the Riva brewery took over the brand name. It continued to be brewed in Bruges though, until 2002 when the whole package moved to Riva in Dentergem. This was where things seriously began to go amiss for Hendrik. The quality of the beer began to mysteriously subside, and the ABV soon dropped as low as 6%. Hendrik was losing his weight fast, and like an aging prize fighter, he was hanging on to the ropes to retain what reputation he had left. The poor quality though soon had a devastating effect on the Liefmans Breweries (of which Riva was one), who went backrupt in 2007. Duvel Moortgat took them over, and immediately closed the plant. Heavy Henry was dead on his feet waiting for the count.

It was never to come though. In 2008, the nostalgic hands at De Halve Maan made an agreement with Duvel Moortgat to buy back the brand of Straffe Hendrik, and within months, Henry was back, this time as an utterly delicious 9% Tripel. I had spent the morning with the folks wandering the sights of the old town of Bruges, and while everyone else was happy to stop for a croque monsieur and a coffee, I was gagging for a beer. I had recently read about the revival of Henry, and where better to try it out than its’ spiritual home. It was absolutely perfect – creamy, sweet, bitter and potent and the perfect accompaniment to some local cuisine. An hour later, like a dazed boxer, I stumbled back into the afternoon sun, knowing full well I would be back for plenty more Henry this weekend.

(Post-Script) – In late 2010, Henry was re-united with his old brother. For a time while at Riva, a dark Straffe Hendrik beer was introduced, although of course it really wasn’t working for them at the time. The Straffe Hendrik Quadrupel is a dark complex beer weighing at 11% and is definitely on my hit-list for my next trip to Bruges.