Belgian sandwich

Here's something really scary for Halloween: Heineken Silver. I drank it on the train out of the Netherlands and into Belgium on my holidays this year. I bought it because the beer selection on the platform kiosk at Breda station is woeful. The beer, too, is woeful. At 4% ABV it's presumably intended as a lighter alternative to Heineken Pilsner. But somehow they've loaded it with even more off flavours. I got huge dollops of butterscotch, bananas and butane which have no place in something like this. The name, I guess, is in reference to the paler-than-usual colour. While it's far from silver, "Heineken Baby Piss" didn't make the shortlist, appropriate and all that it would have been. Don't buy this.

I was headed south to Brussels where, as far as I'm aware, Heineken Silver is unknown. I managed to finally get a beer in at both À L'Imaige de Nostre-Dame and Au Bon Vieux Temps, having been trying for over a year, and also squeezed in a lunch at In t'Spinnekopke. This very traditional tavern is one of those establishments that has stood its ground as the rest of the city happened around it; not quite on the same ground level or building line as its younger neighbours. It was in all the guidebooks when I first explored Brussels in the early 2000s as the place to experience beer-centric Belgian gastronomy but then closed before I got to visit, and stayed closed until very recently.

The food, I'm happy to say, is excellent: a perfect place to try the typical Belgian dishes. I wasn't quite prepared for the beer offer. I've said before that I would love to see straight lambic served on draught as the unfussy drink-of-the-people it used to be. Well, this is one of the places that does that, offering Boon Lambik by the litre jug for the table (you can have less if you want, but... why would you?) I tend to think of lambic as flat but this is quite fizzy: kegged rather than casked, I guess. Sitting outside I didn't check. It's dry and minerally but only mildly sour. The main flavour is citrus: orange and grapefruit peel, which has nothing to do with hops. A little tannin adds an extra flourish to what's already a superb thirst-quenching, palate-cleansing, faith-in-humanity-restoring beer. At some point somebody decided that instead of this being everywhere, we should have crappy yellow lager instead. Idiot.

Purpose of visit was the annual Brussels reception of the European Beer Consumers Union. Representatives of various countries bring local beers to this, Carlow Brewing very kindly donating a few cases of Leann Folláin to the cause on behalf of Ireland. Two Austrian beers caught my attention, beginning with Zickentaler Hausbier by Bierquelle Heugraben in the far south-east, near the Hungarian border. I didn't inspect too closely for a stated style, but it's a rustic deep orange colour. The flavour is similarly rustic: very dry with notes of breadcrust and boiled veg. As such, it's not an easy drinker, even at just 4.8% ABV. This is for people who like their German-speaking lagers to taste very Teutonic. I'm not really one of them.

The other came from the opposite side of Austria: Attersee, near Salzburg. Bierschmiede is the brewery and Rotglut the delightful name. They describe it as an Altbayrischer Dunkel, and I've no idea how that differs from the usual Munich-style sort. It's the same handsome chestnut red and has very similar burnt caramel flavours, combining both sweetness and dryness expertly. The bonus feature is a lovely floral aroma, rather than the bitter liquorice dunkels usually have. All in all it's an excellent dark lager, offering everything that makes dunkel worthwhile and given a creative spin.

As their Ukraine-supporting beer, De La Senne has produced a saison called Kolos Rises. It's mostly a very typical saison: 5.7% ABV, straw coloured and straw tasting. The body is light despite the strength and the style basics are given a twist here too with the inclusion of new world hops. That gives it a surprise fresh citric zest which contrasts well with the farmhouse elements, adding a sense of pale ale. I only had the one, but I feel sure I could drink my way through a lot of solidarity, should the occasion arise.

There was just one other beer I didn't recognise, and I drank it for the sake of completeness. It's a blonde ale -- yawn, right? -- named Kameleon Blond, from Flemish brewery Den Hopperd. Immediately on tasting I realised this was not a run-of-the-mill blonde. It's very obvious that our old friend Brettanomyces has played a big part in its creation, lending it a powerfully funky farmyard aroma and then succulent stonefruit plus yet more funk in the flavour. The finish brings some oily winter herbs for extra and welcome complexity. It's gorgeous, and I'm surprised it's not more famous. If you ever need a beer to convince a Brett-sceptic of the yeast's charms, this expresses them beautifully and clearly.

The next day I was back on the rails and headed once more to the Netherlands. To entertain myself, a black IPA I had brought down from Breda, called Blaker, brewed by De Werf in North Holland. This is an absolute classic of the style, right from the very first sip. Creamy coffee first, then a huge floral element, with rosewater primarily, then jasmine and lavender. The bitter side is similarly unsubtle without being oppressive, taking bittering elements from both the hops and the roasted grains. It makes good use of 7% ABV to boost the mouthfeel, and that helps give it a prodigiously long finish of chocolate and more flowers. I took my time to savour it, passing a substantial portion of the journey to Amsterdam in pure black IPA reverie.

Nothing beats arriving into Amsterdam early on a Friday evening, especially if you immediately get the hell out of the packed and roaring city centre. I headed south, enjoying passing through Rembrantplein much more by virtue of being cocooned in the number 4 tram rather than out in it.

It was fairly quiet at Foeders. I had not previously visited this little pub, specialising in high-end wild-fermented beers, but with something for everyone on the list. I seem to have caught them during a Tilquin tap takeover, which was no hardship at all.

Round one for me brought Tilquin Pomme, a geuze with added apple. It's 6% ABV and looks normal: a pale golden hue. The aroma is normal as well, namely gorgeous and spicy, but with perhaps a little bonus dry white wine thrown in -- Chablis or the like. The flavour has a detectable sweetness which serves to soften the more severe sour edges. It's not like the syrupy industrial lambics, but rather how I would like them to taste. The apple hasn't fermented out and imparts subtle fruit flavours which complement the base beer nicely. Tilquin doesn't always get the extra flavourings right, but I appreciated the lightness of touch in this one.

M'lady don't care as much for geuze so she had an eisbock: Moersleutel's Lizard. That's a lovely rich liqueur of a thing, 16% ABV and mostly uncarbonated with a thick texture, exuding chocolate sauce and Tia Maria. There's a little honeycomb too, for extra smoothness, although it's not overly sweet or unpleasantly sticky. Moersleutel excels again at the strong and dark stuff.

It's not really built for the session, however, so on the next round she switched to Black Swan, a Baltic porter from Brussels Beer Project. At 9.9% ABV it's a strong one, and smells quite severe, all burnt-toast harshness. The flavour couldn't be more different, however, giving sweet milk chocolate plus delightful raspberry topnotes. It's quite heavy, and doesn't really feel like the lager it presumably is, but it's still very tasty if not exactly to-style.

I was back at the Tilquin taps, of course, and sneaked a cheeky pair. The pink one is a collaboration with Brussels micro L'Ermitage and is called Saison Lambic Fruit des Bois. That makes it pretty clear what it's made up of, presumably a collaboration in the true sense of blending beers from the two producers. You get your classic Bretty horse up front in the aroma, and the mouthfeel is heavy, no doubt because of a high gravity which finished it at 7.5% ABV. The funk from the aroma dominates the flavour too, leaving only a faint trace of blackberry and raspberry late on. It's nice, but I think I expected more. They seem to have held back on the lambic side, and while the funk is fun, it would have benefitted from some tartness too.

The golden glassful is a sister to the Tilquin Pomme, Tilquin Poire: same strength and same aroma. I could tell from the flavour that the geuze had been diluted with something, but I couldn't say what. This is something I find with perry as well: the taste is very often too subtle for me to pick up on it. Here I noticed a certain fruit pie warmth but my mind immediately suggested apple as the filling, rather than pear. Still, at least I was able to enjoy it as a high quality geuze, and that's enough.

The trip was drawing to a close but we still had a whole weekend to enjoy Amsterdam. Where we went and what we drank follows next.