#226 – Floris Honey

#226 - Floris Honey

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 3 %

I haven’t thus far had the most positive experiences with honey beers. The Barbar (#19) was remarkably average and didn’t even taste of honey, and the Le Pave de l’Ours (#117) was more akin to bears piss than anything else. Despite being a pretty naff excuse for a beer, at least the Floris Honey did actually taste of honey.

There are generally two ways in which honey can be added to a beer, and a simple comparison of the Barbar to the Floris Honey may well explain the taste phenomenon. The Barbar method, and the one which I have slightly more respect for, is to add the honey during the kettle boil. This process usually means that the honey will become part of the original gravity of the wort. As the honey tends to be a single sugar profile, then it will tend to ferment out completely and any sweetness may only remain aromatic. Brewers can attract widely varying flavours at this stage by trying different types of honey. Wildflower strains of honey tend to ensure a floral streak, whereas Buckwheat strains lead to a more roasted flavour. This likely though will be at the expense of the sweetness of the honey which is particularly true of the Barbar.

The Huyghe brewers of the Floris Honey however unashamedly add the honey post-fermentation, and so it doesn’t have the opportunity to lose its flavour and of course is added in such amounts that it will likely disguise the lack of flavour of a low strength wheat beer – a low strength wheat beer brewed with the sole intention of being butchered with flavourings. I have no idea what Silenrieux did with the Le Pave de l’Ours, but it may well have been a result of somebody leaving the door open at night!

Unlike the Le Pave de l’Ours, at least the Floris Honey is at least reasonably pleasant. I had popped into the Dovetail pub (#119) for a quick lunchtime beer, ahead of a reasonably important external meeting, and so anything too meaty could render me asleep by the first tea-break. The barmaid filled up a cloudy pale tumbler which had a wonderfully thick bubbly head. I was thirsty and it didn’t take too long to polish off half the glass. I can’t really say much more than it tasted of honey and was particularly refreshing. It wasn’t going to win any prizes but I knew what I expected when I ordered it.

#201 – Artevelde Grand Cru

#201 - Artevelde Grand Cru

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 7.3 %

Jacob van Artevelde. He was so good the brewers at Huyghe named him twice. The original Artevelde (#144) was first marketed on the 5^th July 1985, and then in 1987 the brewery decided to rightly improve things and had their first stab at bottle conditioning a beer.

Jacob van Artevelde is a natural choice really as a symbol of Ghent. The 14^th Century statesman was of Ghent stock, and a successful Flemish statesman. He was also known widely as the ‘Master Brewer of Ghent’ such was his love for making beer. Until very recently and the opening of the Gentse brewery, Huyghe has largely dominated the brewing scene in Ghent, and despite my spurious views on Huyghe as a quality brewery, nobody can really argue that they aren’t the master brewers themselves of Ghent.

The Artevelde beers signalled what was a massive change for the brewers at Huyghe. I’m yet to delve into the earlier history at the brewery, but at this time there was a radical renovation and reformation of its purpose and structure. Away went the dull and listless pilsener recipes for which they were known, and in came the plans to develop high fermentation beers for both the Belgian and International markets. It was a statement of intent, and despite more famously now being known for beers such as the Floris range, or the Delirium Tremens, it was the Artevelde beers which kick-started this successful move into mainstream.

Despite my misgivings of the original Artevelde, the result of the attempts to improve it was the Artevelde Grand Cru. This special vintage beer was destined to be stronger, thicker and brewed using only natural sugars. For some reason I expected a more syrupy version of the original but on the pour I was surprised to see a sepia coloured beer, with a thin meek head. The murky depths provided an oddly herbal aroma, which failed to really materialise on tasting it. There were strains of malt and chocolate somewhere within, but the flavour never really went anywhere, and although this was a reasonable first attempt at bottle conditioning, I would be lying if I said this stood the test against comparable beers.

Jacob van Artevelde was murdered by a mob of his own townspeople and is in many ways a martyr to the city of Ghent. In a kind of symbolic way I get the feeling the beers of Artevelde remain on the market more out of nostalgia for their role in revolutionising Huyghe than for any aesthetic qualities they bring – which seems fair enough.

#166 – Floris Ninkeberry

#166 - Floris Ninkeberry

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 3.6 %

Perhaps only the makers or marketeers of Floris Ninkeberry really know why this beer is thus called. This was the first time I had ever tried a fruit beer from the colourful Floris range, and it was purely due to the fact that I had never tried a Ninkeberry before. Having spent almost ten years of my youth working in the greengrocery industry before and after school you can imagine my excitement at discovering a brand new exotic fruit. Forget the beer!

You can imagine my disappointment when on eagerly studying the label I discovered that this poor excuse for a fruit beer is just a syrupy fruit mix of a medley of other tropical fruits. Ninkeberries do not exist anywhere, only in the devious minds of the Huyghe marketeers. I had popped into the Dovetail for a quick devious lunchtime beer to try and forget the strains of work, and had found myself duped into a buying a syrupy mess named after a made up fruit. The Floris Ninkeberry is actually flavoured with mango, passion fruit, apricot and peach syrups blended into your typical staple wheat beer. Live and Learn.

Ok, so the marketing ploy was working, but what on earth prompted somebody to name a pretend fruit a Ninkeberry? It could be any of the following reasons:-

a)      Ninke is sourced from the name Aikaterine, a Greek name meaning ‘pure’. This could refer to the fact that this beer is pure….well pure rubbish.

b)      Ninke is often a nickname used in the Dutch language for Catharina, again a derivative of Aikaterine. Could it be this beer is named after somebodies daughter or wife?

c)      Other derivatives postulated have been that Ninke comes from the Greek Goddess of Magic (Hecate), or more aptly the Greek Goddess of Torture (Katateino).

d)      An urban slang dictionary labels the term Ninke as a particularly kinky form of sex, no doubt by combining the terms Kinky and Nookie.

Whatever the reason be sure to avoid this one, especially if you are buying it in one of London’s most expensive pubs. What a ninkeberry!

#144 – Artevelde

 

#144 - Artevelde

 

Size: 250 ml

ABV: 5.7 %

As I opened this impressive looking beer on a quiet night indoors I didn’t give a great deal of thought to who it was named after. Once though I had unfortunately drunk it, I needed to know exactly what possessed a brewery to create such a monster.

Jacob van Artevelde is the man in question, who was famous as a 14^th Century Flemish statesman and political leader. Born in Ghent, of wealthy stock, he continued to amass fortunes here as an entrepreneur in the weaving industry and as an occasional brewer. During the Hundred Years War though he began to fear for the prosperity of Ghent, as the hostilities between France and England began to crank up a level. He created an alliance with the city states of Bruges and Ypres, and then sided these with the English, in order to continue to gain from the wool and textile trade. At this stage Artvelde almost single handedly ruled Ghent as the Captain General.

His great rivalry was always with the Counts of Flanders who had been unable to check his rise to prominence, and with the Three Member Alliance, and allegiance to England greatly building the wealth of Ghent, he became an easy target for jealousy and resentment. The reality was such that in 1345, Artevelde proposed to recognise the English King as the sovereign of Ghent at the expense of Louis, the Count of Flanders. A large insurrection in the streets ensued, and Artevelde was caught by his own people and murdered at the hands of the mob. It was to signal the return to obedience for the town of Ghent.

Jacob van Artvelde faded into history soon after, but has posthumously regained his status as a key figure in the history of Ghent. He is honoured by a number of statues in the town, and the local brewery Huyghe even went as far as naming two beers after him. Bearing in mind it was Huyghe, it should come as no surprise that this beer was unpalatable and moribund. At least Sexy Rubbel Lager (#87) had the decency to do what it suggested on the bottle, rather than besmirch the good name of a local legend. Avoid at all costs.

#125 – Campus

#125 - Campus

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 7 %

Campus is an orphan beer. This is a term I tend to use for those beers who have survived on in the new world despite losing their parental home. The foster parents in this case are Huyghe who rescued a number of small local breweries through acquisition in the 1990’s.  Biertoren from the town of Kampenhout, were the unfortunate original mother and father.

Biertoren translates fairly easily into English as the Beer Tower, and was a title used when the Smedts family first began brewing in a property previously owned by the Duke of Arenburg around Rotselaar. The place was already loosely titled ‘the tower’ after the local castles main keep, and so it didn’t take much imagination to finally agree on ‘beer tower’. The Smedts at the time were very much leading a collective of locals in producing the beer, and eventually common ground was lost, with a number of other partners choosing to set up other breweries.

In the 1930’s the Smedts family were forced to move due to the high rents placed upon them, and they found the empty brewery buildings in Kampenhout which in 1939 would begin to serve as the home of Biertoren. These buildings already had a rich brewing history since around 1840, and a range of Campus beers were added to the menu. The beer gets its name from the town of Kampenhout, and the label bedecked with the university mortar board is an apt one, in that it reflects the student spirit which is centred around Leuven.

If I ever get the dubious honour of drinking another beer from this orphan stable then I will detail a little more of the recent history at Kampenhout, although to be fair it’s fairly uninteresting, just as was the Campus beer itself. It’s important to discern this amber brew from the Campus Premium (lager), and the Campus Gold (blonde) which by all accounts are even worse. This beer should have come with a sheet of muslin, to enable the pour – never have I seen so much crap in a beer! After three attempts at some strategic decanting, in which I lost about a quarter of the volume I was able to start drinking. Amber, fizzy and decidedly herbal were the best descriptors I could use. It did improve as I neared the canal sediment, but by that stage I had definitely decided to give this one up for adoption.

#87 – Rubbel Sexy Lager

#87 - Rubbel Sexy Lager

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 5 %

Rubbel Sexy Lager is ashamedly Belgian. When you close your eyes and think of why Belgian beer culture is so revered, you don’t immediately think about Rubbel Sexy Lager, but for now, for this moment in time, it would be great to share the story, and to enjoy some gentle irony at the expense of the alcohol regulators in the UK.

In February 2008, all bottles of Rubbel Sexy Lager were stripped from UK shelves. It would be best to use the exact words of Portman Group manager David Poley to explain why – of course also remembering to keep referring back to the label pictured above. And yes, that is a scratch and remove bikini !

“Drinking excessively can affect people’s judgement and behaviour leading to them engaging in sexual activity which they later regret…Our Code disallows drinks marketing being linked to sexual success…The industry has set itself strict marketing rules and this drink has fallen short of those high standards.”

Rightly or wrongly, and forgetting the quality of the beer for a moment, is it worth considering the amount of products that exist on our TV screens today, and on bill-boards across the country that don’t use sex to sell products? Cars sell on the premise of sex. It wasn’t long ago that almost all car and motorcycle advertisements used scantily clad females draped across the paintwork. Advertising has become more subtle but the message remains. Just ask all those men who as teenagers were besotted by Nicole. The marketeers behind Lynx deodorant would make you believe that even the most undesirable male can pick up hot girls with a couple of deft applications of cheap bodyspray. Even such obscure products as burgers (Paris Hilton, 2005) and Brylcreem have linked sexual success to their products.

I guess however there is a moral line somewhere in this which is important to note. Any male, or female for that matter, could pick up a can of bodyspray or hair product, or drive a fancy car to impress the opposite sex, but all is seen as fair game. Portman may of course argue that it might not be quite as fair to use drugs such as alcohol to gain an advantage in this area. Sexy Rubbel Lager is far removed from something sinister like Rohipnol, but the marketeers perhaps need to realise the position of alcohol in the market, and the potential dangers. After all there is statistically far more chance of picking up a partner in a bar than there is in a burger bar, and it is almost certainly exponentially related to the amount one or both has drunk.

That aside, I certainly wouldn’t recommend this beer to anyone, even if there was the faintest chance it might entice Kylie Minogue round for a peek in my cellar. Even if you consider the thirty seconds of fun I had revealing one unidentifiable breast and a glimpse of pubic hair, there is no way I would return and drink this beast of a drink again. It was a foul weak tasteless lager with no redeeming features whatsoever. Caveat Emptor !

#24 – Fruli Strawberry

#24 - Fruli Strawberry

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 4.1 %

I love the ‘Good Beer Guide: Belgium’. I love the ‘Good Beer Guide: Belgium’ so much because of its waging of war on the fruit flavoured beers. I asked author Tim Webb why he had omitted Fruli from the Good Beer Guide: Belgium, and the response I got was.. “Somewhere between don’t know, don’t care, and isn’t a beer anyway!”

I am going to use the Guides own words to sum up these style of fruit beers as I don’t want to even compete with such bitterness. I’ll let you know what I think once I have drunk it.

‘Regular readers will notice that we have finally tired of some brewers’ relentless pursuit of mediocrity, as represented in part by the wave of so-called fruit beers – now over 100 – most of which are made by adding syrup, concentrate, extract, or cordial to an otherwise dull beer. The Guide will continue to introduce readers to the delights of drinks that for centuries have been made by steeping fruit in vats of soured ales or lambics and praise them unceasingly. On the other hand, these modern incarnations have been red-penned. However ‘nice’ some are – and many taste frankly disgusting – these are not beers and have no place in this book.

Tim Webb continues later ‘Strictly speaking, lambics are wheat beers. This may explain the ghastly new trend of adding fruit syrups into wheat beer before bottling. By all means try these concoctions but, if you do, could you please hide your copy of the Guide from view.’

For the mission to reach 1000 beers I will not red-pen these beers. As unlikely as I am to rate them particularly highly, it would be wrong of me not to judge them fairly and equitably, although having already squirmed through a Mongozo (#1) I cant exactly say I am looking forward to them. As for the Fruli, it testifies quite openly to being 70% wheat and 30% fruit juice. The advertising on the world wide web seems to openly laugh in the face of beer snobs and clearly is targeting a younger and more inexperienced beer drinking clientele.

It was certainly refreshing, and certainly tasted of strawberries. Definitely one for the summer, and definitely one for the ladies – to which I mean absolutely no disrespect for the few craft beer drinking ladies I have met. Sadly I have just found out that there are another three types of Fruli beer out there somewhere. Lets hope fate keeps me away for long enough to reach the 1000.

#6 – Delirium Nocturnum

#6 - Delirium Nocturnum

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 8.5 %

The Huyghe brewery on the outskirts of Ghent is responsible for the Delirium range of beers, and of course the obligatory pink elephant. In fact L’Elephant Rouge is probably the most famous thing about the brewery these days – who seem set on producing stock beers for a variety of eager commissioners. In fact in 1992, the Brotherhood of the Pink Elephant was founded – a bizarre fan club intent on spreading the brand, and the largest and perhaps most famous Belgian Beer bar in Belgium is called the Delirium Cafe, situated right in the pulsing heart of Brussels. This cult cafe stocks over two thousand beers in bottles, and approximately forty on tap. Almost certainly on this quest for a thousand Belgian beers it was inevitable I would find myself here at some point with a clipboard, pen and checklist.*

The bar is located in an 18th century basement although it is now spread across various floors. Unless you plan on getting here early though you won’t believe the crowds queuing in the crowded alleyway. Once inside however you cant help feel you are in beer heaven. Every wall is crammed with classic enamelled advertisements, posters and dog-eared beer mats. If you are lucky enough to find a seat then I can think of few places better to spend an afternoon scouring one of the biggest beer menus in the world.

The Delirium Nocturnum is the darker sister beer of the more reknowned Delirium Tremens, and also follows the same marketing as the brand – bottled in Cologne style ceramic bottles that look great in any collection. The name roughly translates into ‘night tremors’ and one wonders what three or four of these may do to ones sleep. L’Elephant Rouge poured a fine head which cleared surprisingly quickly, and the fruity wafts that followed unbottling promised much and certainly delivered early on, with complex rich malty tastes in the mouth and on the back of the tongue. The Nocturnum accompanied a hot curry and complimented it very well half way through, although on finishing the food it did lose its panache in the final third. Certainly enjoyable but no classic !

* (Post-Script) – I ended up there on my Stag night. There was needless to say not a clipboard in sight

#1 – Mongozo Banaan

#1 - Mongozo Banaan

Size: 330 ml

ABV: 4.5%

Starting on the first tenacious steps of the road to a thousand Belgian beers, you might be forgiven for wanting to begin with a classic. I however decided to largely let fate decide my path, and it started with this – a reason to move swiftly onto number #2.

The Mongozo Banaan does though immediately highlight the monumental history of beer, which takes us much further afield than plucky little Belgium. The Mongozo beers come from a legendary recipe that has been handed down from generations of women tribe-members of the Chukwe people, and Mongozo literally means “to your health”. It is fair to say that since time immemorial, the brewing of beer was the domain of women, while the man of the house hunted, and this was particularly true of Africa, and indeed ancient Sumeria (now Iraq) where ‘liquid bread’ was first recorded. In fact the recipe for Mongozo beer was only eventually handed down to a man due to the great-great-grandmother running out of a female relative within her dynasty to pass it to! Even today in most parts of rural Africa, women tend to prepare the traditional brews for celebrations such as weddings and tribal celebrations, and even then for sale at the local markets.

This beer is made from a traditional recipe which contains predominantly palm-nuts, and it eventually found its way into the Netherlands via the recipient of the hand-me-down – Henrique Kabia. This beer in its content remains a fairly representative form of a truly African banana beer, which incidentally still is the traditional drink of the Masai tribes of Kenya and Tanzania. It started well, with the unsurprising and quite appetising aroma of bananas, and yet the rich cloying taste of a sharp cidery beer. The experience though wore off rather easily in the second half of the drink, whence it became tired, oversweet and eventually rather quite unlikable. There are at least 999 more beers to go and I can’t imagine many more will end up being this bad !

(Post-script) – Having said that if you are interested in those that really are worse than this then please look no further than Ecaussinnes Cookie Beer (#23) and Bon Secours Myrtille (#54). Both utter howlers !