Archive for the ‘Belgium’ Category
The receipt says it all
Thursday, March 11th, 2010Has Gouden Boom gone… boom?
Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010
While in Bruges, we found ourselves near what we think ought to have been the the Gouden Boom brewery, responsible for Brugse Tripel and Brugse Tarwe amongst other beers. What we found instead was a demolition site. The gleaming copper in the picture above was atop the one remaining tower and exposed to the elements.
Does anyone know what’s going on…? The beers were certainly still available all over town.
De Garre, Bruges
Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010
De Garre, a stone’s-throw from the market square in Bruges, comes across nonetheless as being aimed more at locals than tourists. The menu is in ‘Nederlandse’ only, for one thing. That’s not to say it’s unwelcoming for English speakers or tourists, though.
De Garre tripel is the house brew. It’s a very spicy, alcohol-fuming beer which was almost too boozy and raw, but very welcome on a stormy night.
We also took the opportunity to complete the Struise cannon with Rosse which was, sadly, a bit of a dud — sweet rather than spicy and with a vaguely cardboard-y off flavour.
Round three included Deugniet, which tasted like lemon barley, and Hopus from Lefebvre. Hopus is advertised widely and comes with a very elaborate presentation — the beer is in a tall stem glass, the dregs in a shot glass, with a stern warning from the waiter that the yeast is ‘powerful’ and might ‘mess you up’. It tasted a lot like a cask ale, maybe because of the bottle-conditioning and the earthy yeast flavours. From something at 7.5%, however, you expect more than to be reminded of a 4% British session ale.
Actually in Bruges
Monday, March 1st, 2010
We’ve just come back from a long overdue weekend in Bruges. Summary: why have we been settling for Brussels for so long when a city this beautiful and this friendly was only another hour away?
On Friday, after a longer-than-necessary train journey (Eurostar’s been up the creek since the big train crash near Brussels a few weeks ago) we were ready for a beer, and so went straight to Cambrinus Bierbrasserie. It was cosy, busy and with a huge menu of well-chosen beers. As one punter said to us: “You English guys like beer, right? Well good luck because here, we got four hundred of ‘em!”
They have two house beers, blond and bruin, which both tasted like bang-on exemplars of those ’styles’. They weren’t challenging, but nor were they at all unpleasant. How do the Belgians do it so effortlessly?
Next we moved on to offerings from De Struise, appealing both because of the reputation of the brewer and the need for something coming in at under 6% to keep us in the game. Kloeke Blonde had that dusty hop flavour we associate with Poperings Hommelbier, but was slightly sour, and very interesting too. Struise Witte certainly wasn’t a Hoegaarden clone — it had pear and/or pear drop flavours, and was also rather dry.
And, finally, Pannepot was flavour of the month a year or so ago. Late to the party, as ever, we decided to give the 2008 edition a go. Wowzers. This was like a very fruity stout with an intense, slick creaminess and no sharp corners at all, despite its strength (10%). Proper dessert beer and a great way to wrap up a long day.
There’s more on Bruges to follow in the next week or so.
Get your dranken geers round this lot
Sunday, January 17th, 2010
At 9am, Brussels is full of trucks delivering beer to bars and restaurants.
A truck full of Duvel, Orval, Troll, St Bernardus and Bush beers.
The man driving this truck actually did look like the cartoon on the back.
Kerstbiers at the Poechenellekelder
Monday, December 7th, 2009
We’ve just got back from a week away in Germany. On the way out, we spent a night in Brussels checking into our hotel not long before 10.30 pm on a rainy Tuesday night. That gave us just enough time to dash to our favourite pub, the Poechenellekelder, to try a few items from their very extensive Christmas beer menu.
Tsjeeses by Struise caught our eye because of the mysterious name which became less so once we said it aloud and saw the label, which features a cartoon of a very stoned Jesus with smoke curling from his mouth and ears. Tacky branding aside, it was a perfect Belgian blonde and absurdly drinkable at 10%. Not too sweet, not too bitter, definitely spicy but nothing you could pick out. Everything was in balance. It reminded us what we love about Belgian beer.
Palm Dubbel was less exciting, but certainly not unpleasant. It reminded us of Leffe Radieuse, with the same kind of fruit flavour which makes you wonder if cherries have been added somewhere along the way.
Zinnebier Xmas (Brasserie de la Senne) reminded us of Fuller’s London Porter but was much easier to swig — less intense and with a lighter body. Roasted grains mixed with sour-fruit aromas. Fabulous.
Forestinne Nordika from Brasserie Caracole was the last we could squeeze in as the bar emptied and bills were paid. Luckily, it was also a hit, with a powerful sweet orange-peel aroma and flavour that we loved. There was more fruit than spice and we guessed from the colour that it had been made with something like English pale ale malt as the base.
All in all, a successful start to our trip.
Still to come: we find a brewery making stout in Cologne; catch ourselves ticking mulled drinks; and find a surprising amount of decent beer in Northern Germany.
Beers we have hated
Wednesday, September 9th, 2009
The first time we had Chimay Tripel was on a trip to Brussells in around 2004. We were interested in beer, but not yet obsessed, and ended up in the Leffe Cafe because it was the only place that we stumbled on that looked vaguely welcoming.
We worked our way through the menu, trying such exciting beers as Stella Artois and Leffe Brune, before getting to the Chimay. We knew it was supposed to be something special, so had high hopes for a transcendent moment.
And we hated it. We found it literally undrinkable. It tasted of nothing but alcohol, and smelled like lighter fluid. It made our eyes sting. How could people enjoy beer that strong!?
For some years, the idea lingered in our minds that it was foul. Fortunately, we did give it another go, and learned an important lesson: our tastes can and do change over time.
A La Becasse, Brussels
Sunday, June 14th, 2009
We’ve been to Brussels loads of times now, but never made it to A La Becasse, famous for serving sweetened lambic in earthenware jugs.
We put that right on our most recent trip to Germany — we had a quick stopover in Brussels and fancied a sour hit. It’s a nice little place, friendly staff and very handy for the Grand Place. The lambic comes courtesy of Timmermans, and it is indeed sweetened and served in jugs. It tastes not unlike sweet scrumpy cider, and is very refreshing, albeit not that exciting. The lambic blanc is more interesting than the sweet lambic, as there is definitely more spiciness.
It wasn’t enough to quench the thirst for sourness, though, so we also ordered a bottle of Iris from Cantillon for the next round. Oh, wow. We’ve had this before, but forgot just how wonderful it is. Because it’s dry-hopped, you get an amazing aroma, like an American IPA, at the same time as the sourness takes over your tongue, and then a complex fruity aftertaste.
We vowed to stop off at Cantillon on the way back and stock up.
Old favourites
Wednesday, May 20th, 2009
We spend so much time hunting down new beers that we sometimes neglect old favourites — well known beers we’ve had many times and always enjoyed.
Inspired by Tim Webb and Joris Pattyn’s excellent 100 Belgian Beers to Try Before You Die! (of alcohol poisoning, presumably…) we spent a recent Sunday in the Dove, Hackney, reacquainting ourselves with some classics.
Westmalle Triple, for example, is one of the world’s best beers, but easily overlooked because it’s relatively easy to come by. On this occasion an expert pour from an anxious barmaid gave it a head which stood an inch above the lip of the chalice, like a particularly appealing looking meringue. It tasted great, too, and reminded us why people make such a whoop-de-doo about Belgian triples. It was spicy, fruity and astoundingly complex.
We’re going to drink one a week from now on.
We’ve been in Germany. We wrote this post before we went.
Duvel: no dumb blonde
Sunday, January 18th, 2009
There’s no more illuminating way to taste beers than to try three or four supposedly similar specimens together. When we found ourselves in possession of two notoriously blasphemous Belgian beers (Satan Gold and Judas) we thought it would be fun to drink them along with their evident inspiration, Duvel. The experience gave us a new appreciation for this old favourite.
Satan and Judas look, too all intents and purposes, identical in the glass. They have the same rich golden colour; the same loose, bubbly head.
Satan first. What a let down after the fun and tacky packaging. It smells of pear-drops, nail polish and alcohol. There are some tart apple flavours which might work if they were balanced with bitterness. Sadly, this beer is hardly bitter at all. The stingy hand with the hops is countered by an overgenerous helping of sugar. All in all, a bit like drinking syrup.
Judas is somewhat better, though similar. Sugary: check. Fruitily acidic: check. It tastes, in fact, like stewed rhubarb, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. All in all, not a beer we’ll be hunting down, but definitely drinkable. Unlike Satan, this one didn’t end up down the sink.
And then onto Duvel, which suddenly looks and tastes like what it is — a very sophisticated, well-engineered beer. It’s lighter coloured and lighter bodied than either of its two imitators. The bitterness is refreshing and pronounced. Veritable hops indeed. Whereas Satan and Judas lost their heads almost immediately, Duvel has iceberg-like clots of foam all the way down to the last mouthful.
We have our winner. Just because it’s ubiquitous doesn’t mean Duvel isn’t brilliant.
