And what else?

Continuing from yesterday, my run-down of the beers I drank at the Belgian Beer Weekend festival in Brussels last month.

Early on, I spotted a new entrant into the lambic world, with an unusual product: Sako's Geuze Bourbon. That doesn't sound like a good idea, but it would be against my fundamental principles not to drink it on that basis. I was disappointed that it wasn't a mess. What I got was a muddy ochre beer which has a massive oak component to the flavour, but not really in a whisky way; it's not outside the bounds of how oaky straight geuze can get. The aroma is the proper sour spice of geuze, and overall it doesn't pull in any weird directions, good or bad. The brewery is new to the style, and it's not a bad start. I can't see bourbon-aged lambic becoming any kind of craze, however.

Also taking liberties with sour beer was Brouwerij Dilewyns and their Vicaris Tripel/Gueuze, with the lambic supplied by Girardin. Oud Beersel has done this blending thing and I wasn't a fan then; nor am I of this new one. I can't speak to the quality of the blend's components, though I'm sure they're fine, but they seem to cancel each other out in this. There are no spices of any kind, and it's neither especially sweet nor sour -- you would expect a cross between tripel and geuze to be at least one. The result is a dull and watery blonde ale; aggressively boring and very disappointing. Let geuze be geuze and tripel be tripel, say I.

The festival's glass deposit system incentivised sticking with the same brewery for a couple of beers, and I did this to explore some new offerings from Musketeers, maker of the mighty Troubadour Magma. First up was yet another variant: Magma Kettle Sour. How this is supposed to be a brand extension on a double IPA is beyond me, though it is a sizeable 7.5% ABV. It tastes plainly of sweet lemon sherbet, without any punch from either hops or the alcohol. Under any other brand it would be fine and unremarkable, but it's very much unworthy of the Magma name.

Musketeers has a whole raft of modern-styled beers, outside of its Troubadour marque. From them I tried Kiss My Neighbour's Wife, a 6.2% ABV sour IPA. It's a simple one, tasting strongly of tinned mandarin segments but little else. The body is nicely full, and very much reflects the strength. The hop flavours dominate the sourness, but there's a certain light tang present in the background, balancing any sweetness and making the whole thing deliciously refreshing. This is how to do sour IPA.

That was quite a contrast to Dirty Talk, described by Musketeers as a "misty IPA". This one is 6.5% ABV, and if there was an attempt to copy some of the attributes of hazy IPA it failed badly. It's sharply citric, with harsh notes of rind and peel; definitely no juice. That might make it sound a bit west-coast but I suspect they've used a Belgian yeast, resulting in a somewhat murky, estery beer, seeming a little rough and unfinished, lacking US-style polish. Zinnebir does something similar, but better.

Despite the lacklustre tripel blend described above, I couldn't resist another, from the Musketeers stand: Crisp Fizz. Here, the strong Belgian ale has been blended with cider, resulting in a hazy golden glassful and 7.2% ABV. The beer has taken a back seat, adding perhaps a softness to the texture. Otherwise it is, as advertised, exceedingly crisp, with a tart green apple skin foretaste, turning to slightly sweeter golden delicious at the end. It's more of a dessert cider than a beer, but the combination of dry cider and strong beer works surprisingly well. Something one could try blending at home, perhaps?

I had credit for one last beer on my festival card and chose to go out on Vat 122 from Boon. I suspect this lambic had been in the named vessel for quite some time, as this tastes very aged indeed, a funky, dusty mix of old wax and stale hops. There's no zing and no spices, which I miss. While it has certainly been aged properly, it's an example of why ageing lambic doesn't necessarily make it better. Give me the zing.

I didn't do a whole lot of exploring outside of the festival itself, sticking mostly to known favourite pubs. That, of course, included Gist where there's a house geuze called Gueuze Bobbi. I was impressed by the tripel under this brand last year, and this one hits the spot too. It's particularly well suited to my taste, being very spicy with a strong saltpetre aroma. The flavour adds an intensely bitter and invigorating waxy twang, plus an odd but enjoyable sticky-sweet candyfloss thing. I like how unsubtle and mouthy it all is, piling in the geuze flavours to make something loud, brash, but tremendously fun.

The dark beer on the left is Tsar'Ace Putin by Brussels-based client brewer 1Bière 2Tartines. It's an imperial stout of 9.1% ABV and very sweet, showing chocolate sauce with the cardamom, cinnamon and similar spices of Turkish coffee. This is set on a thick syrupy base and the whole thing tastes extremely Christmassy. It's not overdone, however, and the multiplicity of flavours are perfectly complementary. It probably wasn't intended to taste like mince pies, but since it does I'll happily enjoy it on that level.

At BrewDog they had a Vienna lager from their German operation, called Leiwand. Clear, dark garnet and smelling highly floral, of violets and honeysuckle, it was a delight. Although it's only 5.2% ABV, there's a substantial weight and density to it, bringing a lot of sticky caramel. Luckily, its essential lager nature does a great job of cleaning that up and preventing it becoming difficult drinking. This is very much a craft take on the style, doing slightly off-kilter things with the hops and malts, but it works beautifully and is delicious.

Beside it, another imperial stout, this one 12.4% ABV and called Baco, from Wallonese brewery Atrium. There's a lovely boozy chocolate aroma here, and more than a hint of whisky barrel. The flavour is simpler, bringing the sweet milk chocolate of a Cadbury Flake, the more serious dark unctuousness of churro sauce, and the coffee-meets-alcohol of Tia Maria. While it's a bit candified and unserious, it's indisputably fun, and hard to criticise without looking gate-keepy. Not every imperial stout should be this sweet and chocolatey, but I'll admit that one every now and again is enjoyable.

On our final evening we stopped into Le Coq on the way to dinner. I had something called XII, a 5.2% ABV Flanders red from sour beer specialist Sosab. Initially, this example gives lots of welcome cherry and chocolate, but it turns overly sour very quickly, going sharp, harsh and acrid, with more of a balsamic vinegar quality than I like. I'm sure there's an audience for one that's this punchy, but it wasn't me on the day.

That's my report on Brusssels done, but it wasn't the final destination by any means. Tomorrow is a whole new country...