How things change

Looking at the list of beers for this post, and at lots of beer lists in Belgium during my last visit, I was struck by the international dimension. It's not that long ago that the only beers I found in Belgium were from Belgium. That has changed not only in the generically international craft joints, but in some of the more traditional venues too.

Take De Ware Jacob and Oud Arsenaal, for instance: brown cafés in Antwerp, as traditional as you'll find. On my visits to both, I drank Dutch beer, albeit in a Belgian vernacular. Both were from the second Trappist brewery to open in the Netherlands, Zundert. Both are named for their ABV. Zundert 8 is a ruby red colour and surprisingly bitter for this sort of thing, leaning heavily on the liquorice. There's an unsubtle crunch of brown sugar next to this and the two sides aren't well integrated, fighting for the drinker's attention. It lacks the mellowness that the Belgian Trappists do best; maybe that will come with time.

Above the 8 there's Zundert 10. This had a lot of the same features, more of them even, but it worked altogether better. I'm still shocked by how dry and bitter it is, having almost as much in common with stout as quadrupel. There's enough quality dark fruit esters to get by: plum, fig and raisin balancing the liquorice, plus a velvety dash of high-cocoa chocolate. I still think the Belgians have the edge on it, but if you're picking a Zundert it's well worth upgrading.

If you want to hit the international stuff in a big way, Billie's Beer Kafeteria is a must. Despite the name it's definitely a pub, all varnished wood and bric-à-brac in the proper Low Countries style. My eye was immediately caught by a beer from one of my emerging favourite breweries, Ca' del Brado from Bologna. Û baccabianca is a grape ale and, unusually, a white one. It presents in the glass like a witbier: the hazy lemon yellow with a thick layer of foam. The peachy aroma is highly inviting while the flavour blends perfectly elements of juicy white grape, acidic sour spritz and mature barrel funk. Despite 7.9% ABV there's no heat here, just clean fruit matching spicy saltpetre. Exactly what a grape ale should be, and exactly my sort of thing in general.

An English double IPA to follow: Wake & Bake by Mondo in London, in collaboration with J. Wakefield of Miami. This delivers what so many of the style only promise: juice. A mandarin aroma leads on to mandarin and jaffa flavours; soft, not acidic and building to a long cordial finish. Here's another strong one (8% ABV) where the alcohol is completely hidden under the fruit flavours. While there's a tiny amount of yeasty grit and pithy bitterness present, they act more as balance than interference. This is a double IPA to restore one's faith in double IPA.

That evening finished up in Gollemke, an outpost of the Amsterdam bar chain. It's another bright and modern craft bar, though the selection is more traditional than most. I went mainstream on the first round: De Koninck's Triple d'Anvers, available all across Antwerp. Unsurprisingly, I guess, it's rather plain: clear gold with a honey sweetness up front, followed by wholesome oat cookie and golden syrup. There's no spices or heat, like all the fun has been filtered out of it. Tripel for people who don't like tripel, perhaps.

There was one beer on the menu I didn't recognise: Blinker, a saison by Siphon. They generally make good stuff so I took it for a spin. Halfway through it I noticed the bottle I got was a few months past date, but I still couldn't say whether that was the cause of this beer's problems. There was no fruit or spice in this; none of the things that make saison fun, and which aren't normally features that fade with age. Instead it was earthy, slightly funky, and with a harsh acidic burn. Though it's only 5.5% ABV I found it tough going and disappointing.

My nightcap was December Flower by White Pony of Padua, though presumably produced by their contractor in Belgium. This is a winter strong ale of 13% ABV, deep amber in colour; almost ruby. There's lots of heady sherry notes, like a super-strength lager, plus warming sugar and treacle. It's not subtle, or particularly complex, but it's clean, tasty and more-ish. Just what I needed at that stage in the evening.

One last beer in Antwerp, which came with a late-night burger in the Jack's fast food chain. It's called, imaginatively, Jack's, and is a bottle-conditioned pils. Hazy yellow and watery looking, it's very dry, tasting mostly of rice crackers. There's no substance, which is fatal for a food beer; no hop character and far too much fizz. Clean but boring, is my conclusion.

We departed Antwerp on Sunday morning, to grab a few finishers in Moeder Lambic in Brussels before the early evening flight home. It was here I discovered that Dieu du Ciel! has a range of variants on its excellent Péché Mortel coffee imperial stout. Pouring was Péché Morte Cerise and I went straight for that. The cherries don't really add much to the picture and the coffee remains dominant. There's maybe an extra Black Forest gateau note, but otherwise it's the same smooth beauty it always was. I like how this beer is becoming more readily available in Europe.

Over three years ago I visited En Stoemlings in their tiny premises near Brussels Chapelle station. They've moved since and the range has expanded beyond a single beer. This was my first time trying a new one: Tanteke, a saison. It's very unusual for the style, being sweet and creamy rather than dry and crisp. There are notes of lemon meringue and a floral perfume. I found it charming and very sinkable, dangerous given the substantial 6% ABV. That it has nothing in common with any other saison I've tasted matters little. I'll need to put more effort into finding more Stoemlings beer, if this is anything to go by.

Beside it is another coffee imperial stout: Whack!, by No Science, who share a building with Stoemlings. Though the texture is creamy, the flavour is quite a severe coffee-grounds bitterness with overtones of cooked green veg. I prefer this sort of thing to be rounded and less harsh. It's only 8% ABV so maybe it just needs a malt boost to smooth the edges off.

I'd not had a Kernel beer in ages so wasn't going to pass by the cask engine serving Imperial Brown Stout. Here we have a lot of the same things as in the previous beer -- big coffee, a vegetal or metallic tang -- but much better balanced and integrated. That it's 9.1% ABV perhaps adds credence to my theory that if you're going to make these, you have to make them big. The most surprising thing is that it smells and tastes more like coffee than the beer with coffee in.

The purple lad in the Cantillon glass is Mourvèdre/Carignan, a grape lambic from the Brussels brewery, utilising the two named varieties. It's come out well: 6.5% ABV with a pink peppercorn spice from the beginning. The fruit element is mild -- this is a classic geuze all the way down, with the bricky nitre and saltpetre I enjoy so much. I don't think it's been bottled so you'll have to seek it out on draught, and you should.

A final pair before we leave. I was intrigued by an offering from Austrian brewery Alefried, their Mikrozircus 12 Old Stock Ale, a 7.1%-er, fermented with Brettanomyces and aged in red wine barrels with cocoa nibs. There's an equally intriguing spicy-sour aroma while the flavour is a mix of lavender and cream sherry, finishing clean with a delicious sour flourish and a waft of leathery funk. There are elements of the geuze flavour profile in here, the waxy bitterness for one thing, and it's just as complex yet easy-drinking. Weird, but brilliant.

John went Brett too, picking Frappadingue Brett IPA by Brasserie des Garrigues in southern France. The non-Brett version of this double IPA is 9.1% ABV, and when the voracious yeast is let at it that climbs to 9.5%. It's a murky orange colour had has the orangey boiled-sweet aroma of many a Belgian IPA. It's thick and heavy but not hot or difficult to drink, just a bit on the sweet side. I didn't get any Brett character, nor much by way of hops, so it's less than the sum of its parts, perhaps, but an enjoyable warmer on a chilly spring afternoon.

That's a lot of beer and a lot of pubs covered this week. But Belgium: I'm ready to do it all again this weekend. Let's go!