Tripel Off Round 1, Match 4: Lost & Grounded vs. Solvay Society

Lost & Grounded vs. Solvay Society.

This is the last of the group matches and sees two UK breweries up against each other: Lost & Grounded from here in Bristol and Solvay Society from London.

The for­mer is a brew­ery with a par­tic­u­lar focus on Con­ti­nen­tal beer styles and is per­haps best known for its Keller Pils – very much a buzz beer of the sum­mer of 2018, despite its refresh­ing straight­for­ward­ness. The lat­ter is an intrigu­ing oper­a­tion run by a Bel­gian and ded­i­cat­ed to brew­ing “mod­ern beers abstract­ed from clas­sic Bel­gian styles”.

We bought both beers from Beer Mer­chants via mail order:

  • Lost & Ground­ed Apophe­nia, 330ml, £3.45 per bot­tle, 8.8% ABV
  • Solvay Soci­ety Tri­tium, 330ml, £4.05, 7.5% ABV

There was no hope of any­thing approach­ing true blind tast­ing at this stage but, as in pre­vi­ous rounds, Ray poured and pre­sent­ed the beers to Jess with­out say­ing which was which. She’d nev­er had either before, as far as she could recall, and cer­tain­ly doesn’t know either well enough to iden­ti­fy them from taste.

Two glasses of golden beer.

On pour­ing, both had sim­i­lar lev­els of car­bon­a­tion but Solvay Society’s beer looked slight­ly dark­er in colour.

Jess: Right, well, these both smell and taste like prop­er tripels. I’d be sur­prised if both weren’t using the same yeast, and if that yeast isn’t the West­malle strain. To be hon­est, they’re incred­i­bly sim­i­lar. If I have a com­plaint it’s that they’re both a bit on the sweet side. They’re lack­ing the crisp fin­ish I love in West­malle. They don’t have that bal­ance of rich­ness and bit­ter­ness that I get from the tripels I real­ly like, although maybe that’s just how my palate is read­ing things today…

Ray: For­tu­nate­ly, all you’ve got to do is decide which of the two you pre­fer.

Jess: True. Well, I have a mild pref­er­ence for this one. [Lost & Ground­ed.] Only because it’s not quite as sweet tast­ing. It’s a very close thing.

Ray: I agree, they’re pret­ty well indis­tin­guish­able, if you ignore the dif­fer­ence in colour. And a bit… Well, sick­ly is too strong, but heavy, some­how. This one [Solvay Soci­ety] is a bit spici­er, maybe, but per­haps I’m get­ting that impres­sion because I know it’s adver­tised as a pink pep­per­corn and rye tripel. It’s also maybe a touch heav­ier, despite hav­ing a low­er ABV. They’re both good beers, though – clean, bang on style.

Jess: I wouldn’t be dis­ap­point­ed if I’d ordered either of these in a Bel­gian bar.

Ray: So, my vote is for… Just, very nar­row­ly… Lost and Ground­ed! Which means it’s the win­ner.


Next round:
  • West­malle vs. De Dolle
  • Lost & Ground­ed vs. Karmeli­et

Tripel Off, Round 1, Game 2 – Straffe Hendrik vs Karmeliet vs Achel

This group in our taste-off of Belgian and Belgian-style tripels represents the stars of the second division – beers lacking the name recognition of Westmalle or Chimay but with similar character and quality.

We had ini­tial­ly intend­ed to include only Straffe Hen­drik and Achel but when we asked our Patre­on sub­scribers to review the con­tenders there was a strong lob­by for Karmeli­et to be includ­ed. Rather than bump any­thing, though, we decid­ed to try a three-way match.

Thought this is only a bit of fun we did think it was worth­while doing a bit of unsci­en­tif­ic blind-ish tast­ing: Jess had a vague idea of the longlist of beers but Ray poured and served them so she wouldn’t know which was which.

  • Straffe Hen­drik, glass X, £3.10, Beer Mer­chants online
  • Tripel Karmeli­et, glass Y, £3.29, Corks of Cotham, Bris­tol
  • Achel Blonde, glass Z, £2.60, Beer Mer­chants online

Three glasses of beer lined up.

They looked remark­ably dif­fer­ent, rang­ing from dark orange (SH) to lager pale (TK) to a sort of gold­en yel­low (AB). Karmeli­et had a much high­er lev­el of car­bon­a­tion than the oth­ers and was hard to pour with­out it bloom­ing up and spilling.

As before, here’s a read-out of Jess’s raw respons­es:

Glass X: It’s nice, I like that one a lot. Real­ly bang on spec for the style. A very clas­si­cal­ly tripel-y tripel.
Glass Y: Oh, I also like this one. Is it a bit… milky, maybe? Very dif­fer­ent, lots going on. Plen­ty of spici­ness.
Glass Z: This seems pret­ty watery. It’s quite grassy. Lack­ing depth by com­par­i­son. My least favourite.

I’d rank them X, Y, Z, just how they came, but I do like them all. They’re all essen­tial­ly flaw­less.

Ray, who knew the beers, not­ed:

X: Great! A bit savoury, though? A slight bum note.
Y: Heavy, heavy body, lots of inter­est­ing flavours – lay­er upon lay­er. Ger­man white wine? Peach­es?
Z: Yeah, what Jess said. Seems very thin along­side those oth­er two, and one-dimen­sion­al.

Three beer bottles.

We were both sur­prised to pre­fer Karmeli­et to Achel but con­clud­ed that this Karmeli­et seemed quite dif­fer­ent to the beer we remem­bered from pre­vi­ous encoun­ters, being less sweet and more sub­tle. And Achel, billed as Blonde but usu­al­ly clas­si­fied as a tripel, real­ly did seem to have more in com­mon with Leffe than West­malle on this occa­sion.

Then came the vote.

Ray: Karmeli­et. Com­plex and fas­ci­nat­ing, and I love the huge foam.
Jess: Straffe Hen­drik. A more bal­anced beer, rich with­out being over the top.

So we gave the Patre­on crew the decid­ing vote and the beer they chose, which goes through to the next round, was, by a very nar­row mar­gin…

Tripel Karmeli­et!

Next time: The New Wave.

Tripel Off, Round 1, Game 1: Westmalle vs. Chimay

We’ve come up with a list of eight Belgian and Belgian-style tripels that we’re setting against each other in a series of taste-offs to determine the ultimate winner.

We want­ed to give West­malle, the best beer in the world, a tough oppo­nent and so decid­ed to pit it against anoth­er clas­sic: Chi­may Blanche.

Blanche used to be too much for us, bowl­ing us over with its sheer boozi­ness, but in the last cou­ple of years we real­ly fell in love with it and fig­ured that if any­thing might slay The Big W, it was this.

On this occa­sion Ray poured while Jess tast­ed sort of blind, with no idea which two beers were being tast­ed.

Glasses of beer.
Chi­may, left, and West­malle.

Both looked pret­ty in their glass­es, all fluffy white foam and clear gold, though the Chi­may (glass A) was notice­ably dark­er. West­malle (B) seemed to have  a much big­ger aro­ma with spice and fruit spilling out on open­ing where Chi­may offered only a lit­tle whiff of sug­ar.

Jess: Well, they both taste like tripels, but I much pre­fer B. There’s just more in the after-taste. A is fine – I’d be very hap­py to drink it any day of the week – but B is less harsh, and has more spice. The flavours seem more… blend­ed. I some­times think about the tran­si­tion from fore- to after-taste and how great beers have a kind of smooth segue, which B def­i­nite­ly does. It’s some­how soft­er, but also has big­ger flavours.

Ray: Inter­est­ing… Both seem quite harsh to me today. If I take big­ger gulps, though, the beer in glass B [West­malle] is obvi­ous­ly bet­ter, sort of mousse-like in the mouth, so sat­is­fy­ing. Leafy and pep­pery. Glass A [Chi­may] just seems rough, all bananas and booze. It feels two-dimen­sion­al, some­how, where­as West­malle has a lot of com­plex­i­ty and sub­tle­ty. It’s got banana notes, too, but not just that. Do you want to guess what they might be?

Jess: Umm… Well, nei­ther of them is West­malle, obvi­ous­ly.

Ray: Ha!

Jess: Oh.

So, of course, based on flavour, we both chose West­malle. Even though it’s more expen­sive than Chi­may we reck­on it’s worth the extra, too, so on val­ue too it wins. That means it’s through to the next round, and Chi­may is out of the con­test.

We asked our Patre­on sub­scribers to vote in a sim­ple poll – should we dis­agree between our­selves their vote will decide the win­ner – and they over­whelm­ing­ly vot­ed for West­malle, too.

So, can any­thing threat­en the reign­ing cham­pi­on?

Well, giv­en that Jess didn’t recog­nise it, and that Ray found it a bit less excit­ing than usu­al, it’s all to play for, Bri­an, and so on.

We bought both beers via mail order from Beer Mer­chants; West­malle was £3.25 per 330ml bot­tle and Chi­may was £2.85.

News, Nuggets & Longreads for 2 June 2018: Flanders, Erith, Easterly Road

Here’s everything that grabbed our attention in writing about beer and pubs in the past week, from D&D to WWI.

First, a great sto­ry by Liam Barnes that just missed the cut off for last week’s round-up, about the part pubs and bars are play­ing in the resur­gence of Dun­geons & Drag­ons:

On first glance this branch of Brew­Dog in Not­ting­ham might seem like your typ­i­cal hip­ster hang­out, but one thing gives it a slight­ly dif­fer­ent air: numer­ous hand-drawn maps, some char­ac­ter sheets, and volu­mi­nous bags of 20-sided dice.… It’s the bar’s month­ly table­top gam­ing night – and reg­u­lars love it.… “I think the escapism is the best bit,” says 27-year-old gamer Han­nah Yeates. “For a few hours you can become a com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent per­son liv­ing a com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent life, mak­ing deci­sions you’d nev­er make and for­get­ting what’s hap­pen­ing in the real world.… It’s lib­er­at­ing.”


German troops sharing beer during World War I.

For All About Beer Christo­pher Barnes has writ­ten a long, detailed, heav­i­ly illus­trat­ed account of how World War I affect­ed French and Bel­gian brew­eries:

The monks of West­malle and Achel were forced to flee to The Nether­lands. The Bel­gians, in their defense of Antwerp, destroyed a tow­er at West­malle to pre­vent it being used as an obser­va­tion post by the approach­ing Ger­mans. Achel was occu­pied by the Bel­gians and shelled by the Ger­mans until they were able to solid­i­fy their hold on Bel­gium. To keep cit­i­zens from going back and forth over the bor­der with The Nether­lands, the Ger­mans erect­ed an elec­tri­fied fence along the bor­der. Since Achel strad­dles the bor­der of The Nether­lands and Bel­gium, the fence bisect­ed the abbey’s lands. When the call went out from the Ger­man War Depart­ment, the monks of Achel were able to sad­ly watch as their brew­ery was dis­man­tled. No beer was brewed at Achel until 2001.

Con­tin­ue read­ing “News, Nuggets & Lon­greads for 2 June 2018: Flan­ders, Erith, East­er­ly Road”

100 Words: In Love With Tripel

Illustration: a Belgian tripel in the glass.

We keep thinking about Belgian Tripels.

We’ve said that West­malle Tripel is, with­out doubt or debate, so shut up, the best beer in the world.

But maybe Tripel is the best style.

A good Tripel demon­strates how a beer can be bal­anced with­out being bland or pal­try. Sweet­ness reined in by bit­ter­ness, rich­ness met by high car­bon­a­tion, with spice and spicy yeast pulling it all togeth­er.

Com­plex with­out dra­ma. Sub­tly lux­u­ri­ous. Afford­able art.

Yes, very afford­able: you can still buy some of the high­est-regard­ed exam­ples for less than three quid a bot­tle, and a suit­able glass for not much more.