The appearance was classic to the style with its hazy golden yellow hue and fast forming rocky head.  Something I found interesting was that the color on the edges of the beer had a white wheat color similar to what I found in the Bruery’s Hottenroth.  I guess that makes sense actually since they are both wheat beers at their core.  Nonetheless, the look was typical.

When I came to the aroma and taste the two when hand in hand.  What you smell is what you taste.  A sharp tartness greeted my nose that was fruity and slightly candied.  Lavender, apricots, peaches, hay, straw, lemon grass, old barn, and funk where additional highlights to the aroma.  The wild yeast was bready which combined with the wheat gave the beer some body.  My taste buds fired on the sides as the sourness brought with it a refreshing quality.

Frank Boon blended this well as both old and young lambic compliment each other will with a fresh liveliness and sour/bitter edge.  The finish was not as puckering as one might hope, but I found the sourness was found more in the middle of the sip.  Still, I was left with a light wheat aftertaste that followed the champagne-like mouthfeel.  This beer does have drying component which I’d attribute to the 2 years of aging in oak barrels.  It was here that the bacteria and yeast worked their magic to bring you a very enjoyable beverage.

Pouring something close to Duvel, it dispensed very clear and straw gold.  If you saw it in a pint glass you would probably think it was a Macro.  However, the head quickly rolled into a creamy egg-shell which head that easily floated and laced. Compared to Chimay White it was not as orange, lacking some sugars and darker malts.  This was fine by me as the light Pils malt base would allow me to focus on the yeast and hop profile of this beer.

The aroma was very vibrant similar to most Belgian Tripel beers.  Great grassy and herbal hop notes sprang up from the glass to give a bit of a punch.  Hits of lemon, lime, lemon grass, white pepper, spicy orange, and a light breadiness melted together to form a wonderful aroma.  The yeast was very noticeable as it should be lending some of those great qualities just mentioned.

The taste was a tab more bitter than I expected.  A yeasty light banana flavor greeted each sip which quickly followed by a peppery, spicy middle that had a hint of booze to it.  The hops added some layers of spiciness as they had a drying, herbal, grassy effect on the palate.  The finish was dry, bitter and clean.  Not until the aftertaste was the bready pils malt present on the back half of each sip.  The yeast however was lively throughout.  I’d would say this states up to any Tripel out there.  The more than sufficient hopping, creamy mouthfeel, and spicy yeast make this a winner.

This gueuze was bottled in September of 2010 and is a blend of 1, 2, and 3 year old lambic. Granted, if this beer was in a 750 ml bottle I probably would have aged it for a few years, but seeing as it was a small 12 oz bottle I opted to enjoy.  As I turned the cage six times and popped the cork my excitement level rose rapidly.

When pouring a gueuze it is important to go slowly as the pluming, rocky, fizzy, bubbly head will creep up on you quickly. In all the commotion the aromatic smell of musty straw and funk filled the air. Very effervescent!  As the head faded quickly the smell did not. Great grassy notes could be found along with hay, straw, wheat, bags of grain. A tart funkiness was definitely apparent lending peach, lemon Lysol, barn, musk, apple (granny smith), and sour notes up front. I could picture the vintages aging in oak barrles in a dark dusty basement of a barn.

When it came to the taste I must say the hype is justified. Sour/tart prickles covered the sides and back of my tongue while a light wheat mouthfeel lapped over my palate bringing some freshness to the mix. You can tell it is a gueuze as there was great interplay between sweeter fresher lambic and old funky lambic. It was more mellow in flavor than Iris 2007 which came across much more tart.  A lemony fruit middle gave way to an almost puckering finish that was dry and slightly oaky.

While this beer lives up to the hype, offering a refreshing delicious session, it should not be placed on a pedistal.

Because it is of the utmost quality…that is why.  For some reason this beer did right by me.  Allow me to try and give a worthy explanation.

The 11.2 oz bottle clocks in at 10% abv making you think your in for a doozy of a stout or strong ale.  However, while pouring the black liquid (that is rudy red while held in the light) it was apparent that this beer would be soft and well spoken.  While the label’s focus on the waxing and waning of the moon’s or earth’s cycle the aroma and taste eclipsed my palate with brilliance.

Smallie (the name I’ve given my short snifter) brought the aromas to a point as I dove in.  The first thing that caught my senses was the hint of mint.  Herbal and fresh.  Mint?  Not in a antiseptic way, but rather a mellow tea quality.  What followed was a minor alcoholic heat then a licorice, roasted barley character.  Given the smell I felt comfortable ruling out a Black IPA as the style.  There did not seem to be the characteristic assault from both hops and burnt malt that the most beers do.  Things were mellow (granted I might have an old bottle) and more stout-like.

The taste was a real treat.  I’m not sure what hops were used, but whatever they were they paired amazingly well with the malt.  Minty flavors washed over my palate and gave some spice to the beer while the creamy smooth flavors of a stout sank in.  Like the aroma the flavor was mellow…chill.  I appreciated this aspect as it allowed me to savor this beer.  Nothing huge or grandiose, just an easy sipper.  The yeast strain gave a bready appeal reminding me of Quads and Belgian strong ales.  A great night cap this beer is moderately heavy and creamy (due to oats), but the minty quality lifts the roasted grains off the palate just enough to provide a clean finish.  The aftertaste is silky and porter-like with faint hints of coffee and chocolate.

So, when I saw it one the shelf at the local grocer, I snagged it up without second thought. As in most be tastings, I went first to the appearance of the brew. If that wasn’t the natural order of things, however, my eye would have automatically done the same. There were chunks floating in my beer. Now I have been no stranger to sediment, enjoying even the most hazy of Belgian ales, but is one had me a bit scared off. I couldn’t help but think I might be chewing this one down. The head was major fizz, it burst and popped and bubbled like an exploding can of soda, but soon lost steam and disappeared. The bulk of the body was a light, translucent brown that edged into an intriguing red in the sunlight. It smelled like earth and must and sour, but the blend brought me to the unlikely conclusion that it pleased my senses, instead of disgusting them. There was just a faint hint of maltiness, bringing me back to the fact that this was indeed a beer.

The first sip was sour, but tempered, not excessive. It had just enough tang to be interesting, without being over the top or puckering. I couldn’t help but taste the chunks of yeast and sediment, which, unfortunately, made my drinking experience less than relaxing. The mouthfeel was nothing special, not too thin though, a good balance. The overall taste was not complex; there were notes of green apple and raisins though, which gave it a few layers of interest.

If I could more peacefully sip this beer, less focused on the chunks and more on the flavor, I think I would have enjoyed it even more. As it was, it was definitely worth a sampling and if the mood struck again, I would remember it fondly and pick up another bottle without second thought.

Today’s sample makes me nostalgic and while my kitchen table in Chicago isn’t quite the same as the brewery’s bar in the center of Bruges, I am still excited to bring back the memories of this brew.

First, I don’t remember the fresh beer I had three years back containing quite so much sediment. I don’t shy away from this quality in a beer, but if I were honest, it is a more enjoyable sipping experience to not have to strain the yeast through my teeth with every swallow. After a few minutes, however, the floaters have generally sunk to the bottom and the result is a hazy, orange-brown body. Carbonation seems good, a constant stream of bubbles popping through the surface of the creamy, off-white head, which has already begun its journey downward, leaving a pleasing trail of lace in it’s wake.

The smell is sour, lemony, fresh and yeasty. No hops and an ever so slight dirtiness. I was preparing to be disappointed, it seems like my memory of good food and drink is never quite accurate, but I wasn’t. The taste was decent, the the stinging scent of lemon smoothed out dramatically on the palate and the overall mouthfeel was great. Aside from that there was pepper and malts, but none of it was overdone, fairy simple, drinkable with just enough interest to keep me coming back sip after sip.

While I am definitely a Brugse Zot (Fool) myself, I am not quite so head over heels for the namesake beer. A decent brew, but with so many amazing beers born all over this historic brewing nation, this one just doesn’t quite stack up.

Labeled with a crazy-looking, goateed, sunglass and santa-hat-wearing dude, I was intrigued from the get go. Also, Tsjeeses Reserva was, perhaps, the most unusual name of any beer I had yet sampled. Come to find out, this ‘dude’ I so casually described was, perhaps offensively to some, Jesus. The brewers describe the name saying: “Every time [the brewmaster] drinks one, he says “Tsjeeses, what a beer”. Therefore the name is more an expression of stupefaction than a curse. We have had already many discussions around the pronounciation of “Tsjeeses”. Very close would be that you say “cheeses” or cheese in plural.” Well then, there you have it.

With the increased expectations that I’m about to partake in something that would cause me to say “cheeses,” I poured. Out came a deeply orange brew with a big ol’ fluffy head. It burst at about three fingers till it calmed down and a nice layer remained circling the rim, draping its lace gracefully down my glass. Some definite yeast sediment settled towards the base of my glass. It smelled delightful, maybe not quite “cheeses,” but pretty darn good. There are big time fruity notes, but delicate enough that they come and go and I have to breathe deep to sniff them all in. Basic yeast and hearty malt shine through as well, with perhaps a faintly sour note as well. I fail to describe it well, but its better than decent.

I plunged headlong into my first swig, like jumping into a dark lake, I had no preconceptions, no ideas of what may be swimming beneath the surface. And in this one, it was just a bit of really great beer. It was more complex than the nose. There was a strongly caramel center to it all, with a prickly pear on the finish, that was perhaps the sour notes on the nose. There was a lingering, dry, spicy finish, it felt like I swallowed a dash of tempered pepper and it stuck to the back of my tongue. On second sip the malts were even bigger, bolder. The whole thing was more in my face, with the alcohol finally making a visible appearance with a warming rush. The dry, spicy finish morphs in a weird way to an almost old-bread-type feeling that sits at the back, reminding me of what a big beer I just swallowed.

This one is great. You just have to try it to get the full picture. It was nuanced, but big. It was delicate but flavorful. While not quite a river tour to Belgian, I would definitely say ‘Tsjeeses, what a beer.’

From what I can tell there are three variations of Pannepot that build on the former brew.

• Pannepot – a dark strong ale (10%)
• Pannepot Reserva – oak aged version bottled yearly (10%)
• Pannepot Grand Reserva – portion moved to Calvados barrels for further aging (10%)

I was lucky enough to get my hands on a bottle of the Reserva from the 2008 vintage. After a nice two years of being cellared I figured it was time to open this up.

What I found was a glorious brew that behaved like a combination of a Flanders Oud Bruin and Quad. The pour was deep brown with burnt red and orange colors making it a fitting brew for the Fall. After a little swirl, I noticed that it had legs and produced a creamy beige one finger head.

The aromas were of deep fruits such as figs and dates supported by a strong grape/raisin notes. Sweet, candied, and caramel malts added a rich dimension. There was a minor hint if sourness and wood tannins that I likened to Petrus’ Oud Bruin.

Wow…despite the abv this beer is truly easy sipping at its finest. Packed with residual sugars, a moderate sweetness is left on the palate shortly after a dry finish where the oak is more noticeable. The aromas mentioned above are all found in the taste with the addition of a toasty bread aspect. Jammy, chewy, and syrupy define the mouthfeel.

I would land this beer right in between my Rochefort 10 and Petrus Oud Bruin grades.

ABV: 10%

Grade: A

The hop selections used include Saaz, Styrian Goldings, and Amarillo for the boil. It was then dry hopped with Styrian Goldings. Brewed on May 18, 2010 this bottle has a best by expiration of 3 years to the date. It weighs in at a measly 9.5% abv.

Cork and caged with a decorative wrapping this special edition brew has a similar appearance as its generic relative. A hazy golden-sunshine hue with a billowing egg shell while head that looked like the top of a lemon marainge pie.

Contrary to the original Duvel, the hops do not get lost behind the yeast, but rather stand out in a big way. They still help to retain an earthy, spicy, herbal, floral aspect to the beer, however there is much more pronounced, crisp, and clean. The abv provides some muscle as it is a little hot on the nose. Sweet light malt notes give some depth as the yeast is still an ever-present part of the aroma.

My first sip was hoppy and glorious. After about half a glass I got used to the taste and other features started to come more vividly. The bitterness was that of a grassy, lemon, herbal character with a somewhat noble finish. Like a fresh Pilsner the Saaz combined with the Styrian Goldings to create that fresh earthy component while the Amarillo gave a minor citrus flare. The yeast was bold and vibrant with a bready, spicy notes and a faint sour finish. Champaign-like carbonation yielded a bubbly mouthfeel that was lively and happening.

I preferred this rendition over the original and green Duvel beers. The hops blend with the yeast making for a very energetic Belgian brew.

In the mood for a Belgian beer I reached for the collaboration brew by Terrapin Brewing Co and De Proef Brouwerij. This massive Imperial Flanders Red Ale comes in a cork and cage bottle that clocks in at 8.5% abv. Using “new age American and old world Belgian brewing techniques” (so says the bottle), Brain and Dirk set out to create an interesting beer. The label adds that it is based off of Terrapin’s ‘Big Hoppy Monster’ containing additions of Rye, Munich and Crystal (ranging from 20-75L) malts, loads of American hops, fermented with Brettanomyces (Bretts), and aged on toasted American oak chips.

This bottle conditioned beer has a hazy maroon hue with a pillowy reddish/tan tinted head that clings to the glass (decant to avoid yeast sediment). Diving into the aroma this concoction packs a punch. The first thing I noticed was the oak as it seemed to be the characteristic that tied everything else together. Under that was a minor sourness with hints of raspberries, grapes, prunes, and apples. The hops added a floral fruity citrus note that interacted with the yeast to bring out the other. Not to be forgotten, the malts added a wide range of caramel and toffee sweetness.

I got a great variety of flavors that paired and supported each other well, yet stood out on their own. Coming in sweet and hoppy this beer hit my tastes buds like a Red ale should. Rich with toasted caramel that laid a foundation for the spicy rye notes to build upon. This spiciness was coupled with a piney bitter hop quality that attacked the sides of my tongue and cheeks. Moving towards the back of the palate the yeast added a bready, yet sour dimension which was smoothed over by the oak aspect.

There was a dry finish which I felt was a combination of the rye malt, wood tannins, and hops. The aftertaste that lingered reminded me of a sour candy (hints of dates/figs).

ABV: 8.5%

Grade: B+