If you weren’t already aware, I’ve moved my blog from Tumblr over to my own domain with WordPress. (I made the switch a couple weeks ago but neglected to mention that here.) Same blog as before, just at a new home.
I’ll keep my Tumblr account active for pictures and links, but all future updates will be at my new site - http://drinkblogrepeat.com
Thanks so much for reading! Cheers!
I’m taking a break from reviews this week to focus on my recent honeymoon in Brussels, Belgium. During the next few days, I’ll be covering my thoughts on the culture, the craft and - of course - the amazing beer and breweries my bride and I enjoyed while on our trip in what many consider to be the mecca of beer.
——-
After a long night’s sleep to help recoup from the jetlag, my wife and I decided to spend our second day in Brussels sightseeing and checking what else was around the city. We took a bus ride over to the Atomium, a science exhibit built for the 1958 World Fair, and some other various historic places throughout Brussels.
After grabbing lunch and trying to plan the rest of our day, we were relieved to realize that not more than a five-minute subway ride away was one of the most popular and sought-after breweries among folks in the states: Cantillon.
Founded in 1900, Cantillon is one of original purveyors of traditional lambic beers, including krieks and gueuzes. During the last century, Cantillon’s brewing methods have stayed nearly the same: Brewing in only the cooler months of the year to cut down on contamination, using only fresh fruits in their fruit-flavored beers, and continuing to use the original brewhouse.
It’s likely you know someone that is a Cantillon freak, and someone who makes it their life’s mission to track down and crack open any bottle they can find. I was lucky enough to enjoy a taste of their Classic Gueuze a little while back, so I can understand what the fuss is about. But while the beer is great in its own right, the physical brewery itself is also a marvel.
After walking through the big wooden doors at the brewery’s entrance, you step into the tasting room, where you’re greeted by either the owners, Jean-Pierre Van Roy and his wife, Claude, or their daughters Jean and Julie. On the day we went, we were met by his daughters (I believe) who took our €6 admittance, gave us a short five-minute introduction to the brewery and then let us on our way.
It’s hard to believe in a brewery as historic and sensitive as Cantillon, visitors are allowed to tour the entire place by themselves and at their leisure.
The first stop is the brewing area. The wheat and barely are milled on the floor above, then boiled two hours, decanted and filtered. The wort is then pumped up to the floor above and the solids are collected to sell off as animal fodder.
From there, we took a narrow staircase to the second floor where the hop boilers and crushing machine are located. The hop boilers use a propeller to mix the aged hops (about 3 years old) with the wort. Next to that is the crushing machine, which mills the grain, and the hot water tanks, which hold 5,000 liters of water used for brewing.
Up another narrow staircase is the granary, where all the wheat, malted barely and hops are stored from the middle of October through April, which is the period of time Cantillon brews all its beer. What was really interesting to learn about was how they aged hops instead of fresh hops. Older hops have more tannin, a natural preservative, than fresh hops do, which helps keep the beers fresher. Since we were there in the middle of summer, the granary was sadly void of delicious hops.
Above the granary is the coolship, the shallow open copper tray that helps quickly cool the wort and mix it with the ambient air. The wort is pumped from the hop boilers and allowed to cool in the open air overnight. The wild yeast in the brewery has been cultivated for years, and the openings on the other side of the coolship are used to help keep it thriving. And during the cooler months, there’s less chance of wild agents getting mixed in.
From there, we moved on the barrel room. The wort is pumped into oak and chestnut casks where fermentation takes between three weeks and a month, after which time the cask is sealed and allowed to sit. The lambics undergo spontaneous fermentation as the wild yeast reacts with the sugars as it sees fit. During our walkthrough, we saw barrels that had been there for three years, and would later be used in gueuzes.
When the beer is ready to be bottled, the brewers taste around 10 barrels and select between six and eight of them to bottle. (Lambics are finicky, so the brewers want to make sure to get the best, one-, two- and three-year batches for bottling.) The beer is pumped into tuns for filtering. For fruit beers - krieks, peches, etc. - 150 kg (330 lbs) of fresh fruit is mixed with 500 liters (132 gallons) of lambic and allowed to sit for another three months.
Down below the barrel room is the barrel cleaning room. After being pressure washed as needed, the barrels are steam cleaned to remove microorganisms, then filled with chains and hot water, sealed and hooked up to a machine that rotates it. The chains scrape the inside surface and the water rinses it. After being cleaned one more time with hot water, the barrels are drip-dried and then ready to go again.
The beer in the tuns above the barrels cleaning room is pumped through a reservoir to a machine that can fill 1,200 750 ml. bottles an hour. They’re then plugged with a cork, capped, put on a conveyor belt and stored horizontally in their cellar. The cellar holds about 13,500 bottles of all the lambics they make, most of which sits there for at least three years before being sold.
I suggest you have a clean pair of pants ready before looking at this next photo.
And that concluded my tour of the brewery. All that walking with a gaping mouth left me plenty thirsty, so my wife and I hit the tasting room to enjoy the spoils.
Each tour comes with two free beers: The Gueuze 100% Lambic Bio, their organic gueuze, and then either the Kriek 100% Lambic or their signature lambic.
The gueuze was amazing. Slightly biting and not nearly as tart as the Classic Gueuze, with a slight sweetness, easy drinkability and just enough sourness left on your lips to leave you wanting more. My wife is no fan of sours, but she loved it, so that says something.
While I opted for the classic lambic, my wife went for the kriek. Both were picture-perfect versions of their respective styles. The lambic was soft on the palate, yet with a good tart sting and a smooth mouthfeel. The kriek absolutely exploded with rich, tart cherries. Both were just phenomenal. We both opted for an extra glass, this time of the Rose de Gambrinus - an amazing cascade of delicious raspberries - as we marveled in what the day had brought us.
Cantillon is without question the most amazing and eye-opening brewery I’ve ever had the luck of visiting. For people who are really passionate about beer and beer history, it’s hard to not wax poetic about the place. The history coupled with the importance it held and still holds to the lambic style and Belgian beer history is unmatched. Walking through the physical brewery and knowing you’re in the middle of a century-old institution - one that still does what it set out to do in 1900 - is humbling. The brewers are meticulous, perfectionists and clearly people who put heart into every drop of beer they make, and that perfection is clear in every sip.
As I said after my first taste of Cantillon earlier this year, I now see what all the fuss is about.
I’m taking a break from reviews this week to focus on my recent honeymoon in Brussels, Belgium. During the next few days, I’ll be covering my thoughts on the culture, the craft and - of course - the amazing beer and breweries my bride and I enjoyed while on our trip in what many consider to be the mecca of beer.
——-
On Aug. 5, I found myself aboard a plane heading across the ocean. Beside me was my newlywed wife, Whitney. Behind us was Columbia, where the day before we were married. And ahead of us was our honeymoon destination: Brussels, Belgium.
Whitney and I are both big beer geeks, and we both love Europe and have traveled the country extensively with our families. So when I first suggested Brussels as our honeymoon locale, she was quick to second the thought.
“Why, of all the places in the world, did you pick Belgium?” was a question I was constantly asked. The answer was easy enough: Great food, great history, great sights. And of course, great, great beer.
For beer geeks, Belgium is a bucket list location. There are approximately 178 breweries scattered throughout the country and some 450 different kinds of beers produced. It’s the birthplace of lambics, gueuzes, krieks, dubbels, trippels and quads. It’s the place where every restaurant and brasserie has dozens of beers on tap, each served in its own specific glassware. It’s a place where beer is ingrained in its history. It is - in a word - heaven.
So, Brussels is was. After checking in to our hotel on Monday, Aug. 6, we showered and went to explore the city. We were located directly across from the main train station and less than five minutes from the main eating and shopping districts. After exploring for a couple hours and deciding to crash for a bit, we returned to the hotel to find a welcome gift waiting for us, courtesy of my parents.
Along with boxes of chocolates and cookies was a sort of Belgian beer sampler, including two bottles of Stella Artois, two Chimay blues and two Leffes. (I would go on to find out that Stella, Leffe and Hoegaarden are the Bud/Miller/Coors equivalent in Belgium. They’re everywhere.) Nothing too fancy, but a great gift to come back to.
We decided to crack open a bottle of Stella and see how it differed from the stateside version. Suprisingly enough, it was noticeably different. And better. It was still crisp and bubbly, but had a peppery note instead of the sweetness of the one prevalent in the U.S. (I guess that’s because it’s fresher?) Still definitely a Stella, but with a bit more bite.
After napping for a couple hours, we ventured out to find a place to grab dinner. We didn’t have to go far. About 10 minutes from our hotel was A la Mort Subite (translation: “Sudden Death”), a cafe in Brussels named after a series of lambics produced by the Alken-Maes brewery.
The food at A la Mort Subite was good enough, but the beers they had on tap were stellar. There was the gueuze - my first ever on draft - which leaned more to the sweet side than the tart side; the peche and kriek, which were both rich, sweet, incredibly flavorful and just phenomenal; and the witte lambic, a sweeter, fuller version of the traditional lambic.
After dinner, we wandered the streets until we ended up at the Delirium Cafe, which I had heard was a bit touristy, but still a place you want to be if you love Belgian beer. There cafe is divided into three levels: The floor level is a taproom with some 30 different draft Belgian beers; the top floor is the Hop Lounge, which showcases American and European craft beers; and the bottom level is where you can have your pick from a literal phone book of beers.
For a Monday night, the bar was packed and rowdy. There were definitely a lot of younger European tourists on hand and the music was blasting, but it still had a relaxed and chill atmosphere to it. And the bartenders seemed to be enjoying themselves, too, what with the grab ass and flicking bottle caps at each other.
There was so much to choose from and it was getting harder to fight sleep, so I opted to try the Floris Honey from Brouwerij Huyghe, which also makes Delirium, and the Cookie Beer from Brasserie d’Ecaussinnes. Both tasted exactly as you would expect them to and made for a nice dessert.
After those few nightcaps, we were off to bed to recoup and get ready for the rest of the week. And oh, what a week it was, but more on that next time.
Westbrook Brewing Co.
Mt. Pleasant, SC
Citrus Ninja Exchange Double IPA
9% ABV
About a year ago, Westbook got a little hot and heavy with the guys at the Charleston Beer Exchange. Both were turned on by their mutual love for citrus-forward IPAs, and when their love was consummated, they birthed a beautiful - and delicious - bundle of joy known as Citrus Ninja Exchange. The Cascade single-hopped DIPA was stuffed with 50 lbs. of grapefruit, then dry-hopped four times. Needless to say, it was hoppy, juicy and heavy on the citrus.
Or so I’ve heard. The first born was a draft-only concoction that I never got to try. But this year, they got together again and gave that first brew a younger brother, this time with a simpler malt bill and a blend of American and New Zealand hops for Citrus Ninja 2.0.
Ninja pours a classic deep, hazy orange color. There’s about half a finger of head that disappears pretty quickly, as you’d expect a 9 percenter would. That’s coupled with some very nice lacing and alcohol legs.
If they were going for a citrus-foward beer, they achieved it in spades. The grapefruit wafts out of the glass as you’re pouring, and there’s just an epic grapefruit note on the nose. It’s very astringent and a tad boozy. Just imagine sticking your face in a freshly cut grapefruit and inhaling. It’s like that, but with less pulp.
Tastewise, there’s a slight bitterness on the tongue and a medium mouthfeel. There’s sort of a syrupy sweetness and a New Belgian-esque bready maltiness to it. Of course, that’s all taken over by the gigantic explosion of grapefruit on the back. It seriously tastes like eating pure grapefruit. The alcohol burn on the middle and back of the palate are exactly what you’d get from a fresh grapefruit. There are also hints of other citrus - lime, lemon, orange - but it’s overwhelmingly grapefruit centric. There’s also sort of a pulpy aftertaste and a dry finish. The beer, in a word, is amazing.
Fruit- and citrus-forward IPAs are my favorite. They can have an aggressiveness and power to them, but still mellow nicely and become more enjoyable as your palate adjusts. Citrus Ninja is an assault on the taste buds, what with its huge tartness and astringency, but it’s one you just want to keep drinking. The flavor is full, lush biting, but just oh so damn good. Here’s to hoping this becomes an annual collaboration.
Westbrook Brewing Co.
Mt. Pleasant, SC
Brett & No Mices Belgian-style Pale Ale
6.4% ABV
I really do love what Brett can do to a beer, imparting a good funk but a nice, rich taste and sweetness. I also love barrel-aged beers, what with their oakiness and slight bite. And, I love Westbrook, easily South Carolina’s most adventurous brewery, which continues to crank out one awesome beer after another.
So when Westbrook puts out a Belgian-style pale ale brewed with Brett, aged in barrels for 10 months and then dry-hopped, well … I’m probably going to love it. That’s just what Brett & No Mices is, another entry in the Mt. Pleasant brewery’s barrel room series (and quite a barrel room it is).
This baby pours a murky copper orange color with about two fingers of a tight white bubbly head. There’s a really nice carbonation streaming up the edges of the glass. The lacing’s pretty weak and it’s got some mild alcohol legs to it, but it’s quite a nice looking brew.
A big Brett funk and a major oak character punches you in the nose on first whiff. There’s a touch of fruits, maybe a slight pineapple or orange. Definitely some wine characteristics, and a bit of apple and pear.
On the tip of the tongue you get a slight pinch of tartness. It’s got kind of a lighter mouthfeel and really good carbonation throughout. The funk is very prevalent on the end and the oak really shines through right at the back. I got a very mild toffee and raisin flavor toward the middle of the palate. It’s got a dry finish, which is a nice way to end it.
The nose on Brett & No Mices is more layered than the beer turns out tasting, but the taste isn’t any less delicious. The barrel aging blended with the magic of the Brett is a great mix, and all the characteristics of both are very present. Another winner.
On Monday, after returning from our honeymoon, my wife and I sat down to unwrap and organize the mountain of gifts we received at our wedding a couple weeks ago. There was a lot of the standard fare: place settings, silverware, serving dishes and entertaining goods, etc. But mixed among those were a couple gifts that stood out. One was a photo of my wife and I from the night we first met about two-and-a-half years ago from the friend who introduced us. It’s a great little memento that means more than any of the higher-priced gifts we received.
And then, there was this:
That is a gift from our friend Josh, his girlfriend and two of our other friends. The time and effort that went into the box was impressive enough, but it’s what’s inside the floored us.
Josh, a burgeoning homebrewer - along with the three others who helped bankroll the effort - brewed us a Russian imperial stout aged with oak chips and Four Roses Single Barrel bourbon, and then bottled it in 22 oz. bombers. (I got to try a little bit at my bachelor party, so I speak with authority when I say it’s really, really good.) In the box we received were six bottles and simple instructions: to enjoy one bottle of the beer every six months and think back on our wedding day. Therefor, the bottles in the box have us covered for the next two-and-a-half years.
But it doesn’t stop there. In total, there are 24 bottles, each to be enjoyed six months after the other. That means that my wife and I will be able to sit down, crack open a bottle and reminisce over some great homemade beer every six months for 12 years. Twelve. Years.
We got some really expensive gifts, mostly from friends of our parents. But our friends opted for the fun, funky and original gifts, which mean more to me than the $300 knife block or the $100 serving trays. But this … this takes the cake. I’ve always been the kind of person to appreciate original and self-made gifts, mostly because it’s kind of flattering to know someone took the time to make something specifically for me.
That makes this easily one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.
To know someone - anyone - took the time, effort, patience and skill to not only think of, but also put together a gift such as this is humbling. We’ve always known Josh is a great friend of ours, but this will be a constant reminder of just how great of a person he is, and how much he and the others behind the gift love us.
My wife and I will be enjoying our first taste this weekend, and we’ll be able to keep enjoying it for years to come.
Affligem Brouwerij
Opwijk, Belgium
Belgian tripel
9.5% ABV
With my honeymoon to Belgium quickly approaching - and with my wife and I being big beer geeks - we were bombarded with bottles of all shapes and sizes, with many of them coming from the country we would soon visit.
Affligem, while a solid Belgian tripel, is a bit misleading. The beer promotes itself as an abbey ale (one being brewed at a monastery) but is actually a subsidiary brand of Heineken brewed at an offsite brewery. I guess it’s kind of like Blue Moon promoting itself as an independent craft beer, yet being owned by MillerCoors. Shame.
Whatever. It’s rude not to appreciate a gift.
The beer pours a gorgeous crystal clear sunset orange. There’s a very bubbly head on top but it doesn’t last for long. The beer almost looks like a champagne with tons of carbonation streaming up the middle and sides of the glass. The lacing falls off fast but the alcohol legs stick around. It really is a gorgeous looking beer.
It’s an unmistakable classic Belgian tripel on the nose. There are big pear and banana notes with a really effervescent, bubbly smell. There’s definitely a lot of malt and sort of a muted sweetness as well.
The body is very light and crisp and there’s a huge wash of carbonation throughout the mouth. As that fades on the back, a really sweet bread and strong maltiness shines through, as do flavors of green apples, pears, bananas and a little clove. At 9.5%, you don’t get the alcohol at all. It’s got a very dry finish.
While it’s mass-produced and funded by a major European brewer, Affligem Tripel is still a pretty solid beer. It’s lighter yet rich and full-flavored, not boozy, easy to drink and easy enough to find. The best tripel I’ve ever had? Hardly, but for one that’s inexpensive and easy to find, it’s a solid choice.
Shmaltz Brewing Co.
Saratoga Springs, NY/San Francisco, CA
Funky Jewbelation American Strong Ale
9.8% ABV
I’ve had mixed results with Shamltz’s “bigger is better mentality.” Sometimes, it’s left me disappointed and wanting me. Other times, it’s left me staring at the bar top wondering how I was going to make it home that night. But most of the time, they fall into the “not good, but not bad” territory.
Regardless, I respect what they’re trying to do and the originality they bring to the brewing universe with beers such as Funky Jewbelation, a barrel-aged strong ale that comes in just shy of 10%. But it’s not just any barrel-aged beer; it’s one aimed at putting others to shame.
Six of Shmatlz’s different beers are aged in different barrels, with 73% ending up in whiskey barrels and 27% being put in bourbon barrels. Those beers are:
Damn. All right, let’s get to it.
The beer pours black as night. It’s a little lighter brown toward the top but really murky throughout. Topped with a finger of a blink-and-miss-it head. The lacing falls off fast but alcohol legs go for weeks.
It’s super boozy on the nose (duh). Like stick-your-face-in-a-bourbon-barrel boozy. Just incredibly strong and almost overpowering. There’s definitely a whiskey character as well, but the bourbon is the stronges. There’s dark chocolate and dark fruits as well, but the booze is what hits you the most.
But oh, the taste. There’s a surprisingly strong carbonation on the front and a medium body mouthfeel follows, but the flavors on the end are spectacular. That booziness from the nose is masked with big globs of caramel, plums, figs, tart cherries, nuts and dark chocolate. It’s like a bouquet of deliciousness. To boot, it’s got a decadently smooth finish, like velvet. The booze is there, but it’s all bourbon coated and incredibly smooth.
I unfortunately couldn’t make it through a whole bottle of Funky Jewbelation, but I’m OK with that. It’s definitely something I would recommend sharing with a few folks, if only to see what different flavors and notes they pick up on. The barrel aging is unmistakable on the beer, and the blending techniques and various ages really brings out an impressively complex beer. L’Chaim once again.
——-
Note: I’ll have a ton of posts from my honeymoon in Belgium up next week, including some reviews of some truly amazing beers. In the meantime, I’ll continue to post the reviews I’ve got queued up. Even during a whole week without any post, I still managed to get a steady stream of visits, so thank you all once again for reading. Cheers.
In case you haven’t heard, I’m getting married today, and my new bride and I will be jetting off to Brussels, Belgium for our honeymoon tomorrow. (And yes, of course we plan to visit Cantillon, 3 Fonteinen and whatever other breweries we can.) Needless to say, I’ll be taking a break from blogging for the next week. But be sure to travel with me - vicariously, at least - through my Twitter and Untappd pages. Cheers!
New Belgium Brewing Co. - Fort Collins, CO
The Lost Abbey (Port Brewing Co.) - San Marcos, CA
Lips of Faith: Brett Beer American Wild Ale
7.5% ABV
In my recent review of Brux I talked about collaboration beers and how they give drinkers a chance to sample something from a brewery they might not otherwise get to try. One of those beers was the Lips of Faith Brett Beer, an American wild ale cooked up by New Belgium in Colorado and The Lost Abbey in California. (The version brewed by Lost Abbey is called Mo’ Betta Bretta.)
Brett Beer is - surprise, surprise - brewed with Brettanomyces, a yeast strain any beer geek worth their salt knows all too well. For a brewery with “Belgium” in its name, it’s not surprising they decided to give the finicky Belgian yeast a chance to shine, along with Sorachi Ace, Target and Centennial hops for added pop. The result is a bready, Brett-y and juicy beer.
The pour is a really nice deep golden yellow color. It’s a bit hazy as a beer of the style would look. Topped with a finger of a head, though it dissipates quickly, and some really nice lacing and alcohol legs.
The nose is unmistakable. There’s definitely a strong Brett funk that hits first. It’s that classic wet hay kind of smell backed with a bit of tartness. You definitely get a good bread character to it, as well a sort of a sweeter green grape and citrus note as well.
There’s a nice wash of carbonation over the front of the palate first, followed with just a very mild tartness that pinches the front of the tongue and back of the throat. The taste buds really open up, and the flavors really pop on the end. Big juicy fruits - orange, a bit of apricot, some papaya - are the most prevalent. There’s also a nice lemon note to it as well. The sour notes aren’t around too long, and the solid mouthfeel mellows into a juicy aftertaste.
I was expecting a bit more funk or sourness, so it was kind of a letdown that it didn’t have that bite to it, and it sort of falls flat on the end. But those are minor inconveniences compared with the rest of the beer. The nose is great, the juicy tropical fruit flavors are delicious and it’s an all-around solid beer that really shows what Brett can do.
