The BeerCast

After the refinement of classical Bruges (or Brugge as it’s referred to when you’re there), we travelled the short distance inland to Brussels. There are even more beer opportunities here, as befits a major European city with a pretty rich history. We visited the Cantillon Brewery (see previous post), and also several bars and cafés – the most notable (and famous) being the Delirium Café, hidden in a backstreet to the north of the Grand Place. The street address is Impasse de la Fidélité 4, but it took some wandering along alleys populated with tourist restaurants before we found it, even with the street name.

There are three floors to Delirium, the top one is non-smoking, and this followed the pattern of every other non-smoking area we saw in Brussels – in that it was almost totally deserted. Coming from the UK, it was a shock to the system to be surrounded by smokers again – of course we’d forgotten how much it affects those of us that don’t – so we started up the top, joined only by a couple of middle-aged American men clearly on a beer holiday. As the place was so empty, the barman was chatting to them and helping them choose, then bringing each drink to their table – no wonder they were enjoying themselves. He even let them go behind the bar and pose for photos. In their honour I had the only non-Belgian drink to pass my lips during the holiday – a Flying Dog Snake Dog IPA (7.1%), which was predictably hoppy and alcoholic, and very nice.

But we’re here to talk about Belgian beers after all, and as there was a complete lack of atmosphere upstairs, we descended into the bottom-most bar. Things were much better here, we got a seat at the back in the raised area and picked from the ’select beer menu’ that was on the tables. Delirium is renowned for it’s enormous range – they were in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most beers on sale in the world (I think it was over 2000 in all). Those larger menus were at the bar, and as the table versions had about a hundred Belgian ales on them, that was more than enough choice!

La Guillotine (9.0%)
Brouwerij Huyghe, Melle

We’ve featured Delirium Tremens on the BeerCast before, and surprisingly it didn’t do that well. I attribute this to the early days of our beer journey when we reviewed it – as it’s become one of my (and my girlfriend’s) favourites. I’d never tried La Guillotine before – which is essentially a stronger version, so gave it a go at Delirium. It pours a dark golden amber colour, and gives off deep alcohol aromas. The taste is wonderful, it really is a darker, punchier, DT. It really doesn’t taste 9% either, so could be very dangerous. Aside from the Van Steenberge Tripel de Garre I’d had in Bruges, this was one of the beers of the trip for me.

Queue de Charrue Brune (5.6%)
Brasserie Vanuxeem, Ploegsteert

La Guillotine was a tough act to follow, so I figured a change of tack was the best way to go. Sour Flemish ales are an acquired taste – possibly the hardest to acquire in the beer world (you need only look to the bottom of our beer rankings). Having not had much experience with the style – and certainly none that were pleasant, I nonetheless went for one to counteract the rich grassy fruit of the last beer. Picking a total random beer I’d never heard of (always one of my favourite things to do) landed me Brasserie Vanuxeen’s Queue de Charrue Brune, from Ploegsteert. The bottle looked old and battered, but the beer was actually pretty good. Crucially for me there was just a touch of sweetness that counteracted the more acrid flavours from the tart yeasts. It was in no way as bitter as something like Rodenbach Grand Cru, although still being quite puckering. It made an impression on me, that not all sour Flemish reds are the same, and was actually pretty refreshing.

Bobeline Blonde (8.5%)
Brouwerij Huyghe, Melle

Keen to try as many types and styles as possible in what was sadly a limited time in both Delirium and Belgium, next I went on to a blonde ale. I’d tried one before – the really rather good Bruges Zot Blonde, in the city of the same name – so went for another from the minor menu in the café. Bobeline Blonde packs a punch at 8.5% (the small menus in Delirium don’t have abv contents listed), and comes in a nice-looking artistic bottle. I found out later it’s actually produced by our old friends Brouwerij Huyghe, so I actually had two rarer ‘house beers’ in the Delirium Café. Bobeline was very sweet and rich, with a peachy taste. It poured a hazy golden colour, with a dense pillowing head. It kind of reminded me of champagne, with that carbonated sweet/dry palate and fruity tinge (although the tinges were more ripe stone fruits than tart green ones). Again, it didn’t taste anywhere near it’s weighty abv. These Belgian brewers know how to craft a good beer, of that there is no doubt.

Delirium Cafe website

Cantillon are the last remaining lambic brewery in Brussels, and on my recent trip to Belgium I managed to make the trip to where it all happens and have a look round. For a few Euros you get a self-guided tour around their facilities and then have a taste of two of their beers. Guides only take around pre-arranged tours, but fortunately for us there was one of those going on, so we did a bit of eavesdropping to augment the ten-page booklet given out. Established in 1900, they use the same equipment (see photo below of the original red copper cooling vessel, still going strong), and traditional methods. Continuing in the hands of the same family, Cantillon and their distinctive ‘man overbalancing on chair’ logo are found throughout Belgium.

Obviously I’ve been to a few breweries in my time, but never a lambic producer – only a small corner of Belgium can claim to produce this distinctive style of aged beer (the Senne Valley area south west of Brussels is the heartland). The mash tuns look like any others, the process is the same until the wort has had the hops cooked and removed, when it is pumped into what looks like a giant pie dish for the magic to happen. Here it is cooled (during the night and only between October and April) with window shutters open to allow the airflow to bring naturally-occurring windblown yeasts into contact. Then it’s placed into wood barrels for the fermentation to take hold. In truth, there are more microorganisms in the barrel wood than arrive on the breeze, but it all helps. The beer is then aged for three years once the barrels are sealed (they are left open for three days to vent the carbon dioxide in case of explosion). But what does it taste like? The samples we were given were their Gueuze and their Framboise, Rosé de Gambrinus.

Cantillon Gueuze 100% Lambic (5.0%)
A blend of one, two and three year old lambic, the Gueuze is their stock beer and is a classic Belgian style. It’s also famously something of an acquired taste, particularly for a Brit like me raised on bitters and stouts. It was poured for us at the brewery serving area, and was (as you can see from the photo) totally opaque and extremely hazy, almost peachy in colour. A vinegary tartness dominated the aroma, with gooseberries and other sharp fruit coming out. On the palate it was colossally sour, extremely bitter with an acid tartness. My girlfriend gave up after a couple of sips, so I had both and managed to get through them, but I’m not going to deny it was a struggle. I can see why lambics are revered, but I’ll clearly need to drink a lot more before I get a taste for them.

Rosé de Gambrinus (5.0%)
The other Cantillon we got to sample was their blend of two-year old lambic and raspberries. The fruit is added for between five and six months, then before bottling more young lambic is added to promote refermentation. This one was unsurprisingly a deep, cloudy pink colour with a tart raspberry sourness on the nose. This comes through on the taste as well, which is predominantly the sour lambic with a rising bitter fruitiness at the end. It’s like mistakenly eating a green raspberry from a bush – but the fruit gives it a more forgiving finish than the straight Gueuze. These are challenging beers, no doubt about it, and ones that any beer lover should try – even if they aren’t immediately accessible like other styles.

I realised very quickly just how good Belgium is for beer drinkers – every restaurant or bar has a local selection that really cry out to be sampled. Most of them have a decent selection on draught, many are even house specials or are renowned for one particular type or style of beer. One place such as this is Staminee de Gare in Bruges, tucked away down a narrow passageway between the two focal points of the city – the Markt and Burg squares. In researching the drinking options beforehand, the house tripel here – Tripel De Garre had been mentioned numerous times. I’ll say right now that every single one of these people who mentioned it were absolutely right – it was the nicest beer I tried the whole time I was in Belgium.

Brewed by the Brouwerij Van Steenberge in Ertevelde the menu leaves you under no illusions as to the strength of the Tripel – at 11.5% it warns that they will only serve a maximum of three per customer (although I have since read that if you sweet-talk the barman he’ll let this slide, as long as he ‘keeps an eye on you’). As I was sampling at midday on an empty stomach I left it at the one, but the large chunky glass arrives on a doily-draped tray with a small dish of cubed cheese (kaas, in the Flemish). This turned out to be so good, we ordered a cheese platter to accompany – and compliment – the beer (my girlfriend having ordered a Huyghe La Guillotine on my recommendation, before I realised it was 9%). Anyway, it made for a pleasant lunch.

Tripel de Garre is poured from a wooden barrel on the bar, and so comes with a colossal pillowy head, at least a couple of inches. The aromas are amazing – alcohol esters, rich citrus, wheat beer notes, some mild spices from the hops. The mouthfeel is as good as I’ve ever got from a beer, strong warming alcohol mixed with the sharper hops and mellow sweetness. This mellowness continues into the aftertaste, where the strong witbier flavours come to the fore along with some flowers, and then finally the punch of the 11.5% alcohol, which remarkably is never overpowering. It was astonishing, I was genuinely amazed. Truly one of the nicest beers I’ve ever had the pleasure of sampling – and quite simply a must if you find yourself in Bruges.

Cambrinus is only a stone’s throw from Bruge’s famous Markt – the square around which all touristy things seem to revolve. The old bell tower, bike tours, restaurants and friteries all vie for the attention of visitors – but a short stroll away down Philipstockstraat is a tremendous distraction – Beerbrasserie Cambrinus. The old wood effect frontage gives way to a modern-looking bar bistro with brass fittings and a large bar, well-stocked fridges behind. The night we were there a large contingent of drunken Spaniards were belting out songs in what seemed like an opportunistic session – supported by guitars, bongo drums and – of all things – a kazoo player. But they added to the atmosphere rather than detracted from it, and we managed to get a table in the window and (most importantly) one of the hefty wooden-backed beer menus.

And what a menu – I don’t know exactly how many beers it contained, but there were hundreds I’d never heard of. Unlike the famed Delirium Café in Brussels they were all Belgian; all local. I’m certainly in favour (in theory) of a place like Delirium with over 2000 beers, but would much rather have a few hundred that I could only find in the country I was in (and that’s actually what we drank in Delirium too, as it happened – but stay tuned for that post later). The Cambrinus menu was arranged by style – Trappists, Wheat Beers, Fruit Beers, Darks, Blondes etc. There was even a small section of bespoke Belgian lagers. However, the largest section was ‘speciality’ beers – so given only a limited time, it was there I invested my energy.

Bink Bruin (5.5%)
Brouwerij Kerkom, Sint Truiden

I started off with a brown ale – one of Belgium’s most classic styles. Being from Northern Britain I’ve something of an affinity with foamy brown beers, although of course the Northern Belgians do them slightly differently (as with everything else). A totally random selection, Bink Bruin hails from the Brouwerij Kerkom in Sint Truiden, roughly forty miles east of Brussels. It poured a very dark chocolate brown colour, with a rapidly disappearing head. I was expecting something sour, but Bink was dark roasty malt with a portery taste. It wasn’t too strong or bitter, similar to UK porters, and shared that bittersweet malty aroma. There was a hint of caramel about it too, that stayed within acceptable limits (for my palate). It was very drinkable, certainly – a session Belgian ale, maybe?

Adelardus Dubbel (7.0%)
Brouwerij Kerkom, Sint Truiden

The second was also from the Kerkom Brewery, and I selected this one because of the added ingredient listed on the menu – Gruut. Adelardus is Kerkom’s Abbey-style Dubbel, and was named after one of the Abbots from Sint Truiden’s monastery – indeed the label features a portly monk spilling a frothing chalice of beer, so it may be the man himself. Gruut was what the old-time Belgian brewers flavoured their beers with before the use of hops became prevalent, and consisted of a mixture of about a dozen herbs and spices. As you can imagine, the ratios differed from producer to producer, but the Gruut traders became very rich importing and trading these specialist ingredients. Adelardus is tremendous – very balanced, and leads to a slight spicy, peppery bitterness that cuts through the sweet alcohol flavours really well. The Gruut (also known as Sweet Gale) makes this one really stand out.

t’Smisje+ Dubbel IPA (10.0%)
Brouwerij de Regenboog, Oudenaarde

In true BeerCast fashion I decided to end on a strong note, with a 10% Belgian double IPA. I’d only had three beers in Cambrinus, but it was 12:30am at this point and I’d already had a fair few that day (more to come on that note), so decided to go out with a bang. One of the more bizarre beer names I’ve come across, initially I thought it was simply Smisje IPA (as that’s what it seems to say on the bottle) – but the full title is t’Smisje+ Dubbel IPA (I don’t know if the plus sign is silent or not), and the label has a cartoon dog cramming hops into a bottle using a funnel. This and the abv should have given me some clue – and indeed so it proved. Paying homage to American Double IPA’s, this tasted like something BrewDog would come up with – massive, biting hops followed the violently hoppy, almost blue cheese aromas. This thing is a t’hop monster+, it’s actually spicier than the beer with Gruut added, so many hops having been pounded into the bottle (there are four different kinds added). Near the end I experimented and added the sediment to the glass, whereupon it went dark brown and became totally undrinkable. It’s a shame – at 10% it would be alright, just without the trampling hops (I have no idea what the IBU’s would be). It just doesn’t seem crafted to me, there’s no subtlety or balance about it, unlike other double IPA’s I’ve sampled. Although, it’s one hell of a way to end a night’s drinking, that’s for sure.

BierBrasserie Cambrinus

The BeerCast will be offline for the next few days, so unfortunately there won’t be any posts – but for a very good reason. I’ve never been to Belgium before, and have finally managed to arrange a trip to the country of Moules Frites and le mannequin pis. And also, of course, outstanding beer. A trip to Brussels and Bruges over the next few days will give great opportunity to sample the best of Belgian brewing. Check back after the weekend for posts and photos of what the BeerCast discovered…