Elephant -v- Dragon

On Monday, I took you on a free-roaming rumble through a handful of Ghent hostelries. Today we're sticking strictly to the programme: the social events put on for judges at the 2024 Brussels Beer Challenge, of which I was one.

As I mentioned, Brouwerij Huyghe was a major sponsor of the event, and were very generous with their hospitality. In central Ghent they've set up a brewpub in one of the many beautiful historic buildings, and they've named it Artevelde, resurrecting a previously defunct local beer brand, itself named after a 14th century brewer, statesman and city hero who was killed by an angry mob. Ingrates. Questions were raised among some attendees over how much of the beer was actually brewed on site, rather than at the big out-of-town brewery.

The house beer is Artevelde Pintje, a pilsner. Getting into judging mode, I was looking hard for flaws here but couldn't find any beyond a small, and reasonable, hint of butter in the aroma. Otherwise it's very clean and simple fare, with a quaffable smoothness and superb thirst-quenching power. They haven't done anything fancy with the recipe, and while I like my pale lagers with a bit of a honed hop edge, I don't begrudge the roundness of this one. It's 5% ABV and I'm sure it's a coincidence that the main pilsner brewed at Huyghe, Mongozo, is too.

Although it's a completely different kind of beer, I reacted similarly to Artevelde Kriek. This is a very simple and sweet kriek, bright pink and foamy, without a trace of sourness. Instead, it's cherry sherbet and cherry candy all the way down. I've said before that I have a soft spot for beers like this, and can happily drink them in quantity. This one I could definitely have had more of, especially as it's only 3.6% ABV. Huyghe's Floris Kriek is also 3.6% ABV, funnily enough.

As far as I can see, Huyghe does not have a beer at 7.2% ABV though plenty are in the ballpark. That's the strength of Artevelde Grand Cru, a dubbel. This one gets no marks for style fidelity, with only a sweet and juicy raisin note indicating that style. It's sweet all the way through, in fact, missing all of dubbel's usual spicing and breadiness. Instead, you get a bouquet of fresh flowers and a bar of warm milk chocolate, suggesting the square of Turkish delight from the Cadbury Milk Tray selection. While it may be a bit of a candy confection, I enjoyed it a lot, more so than many a serious dubbel. Beers can be complex, interesting, and a bit silly, all at the same time. Especially in Belgium.

In due course, a couple of days later, we were bussed out to Delirium HQ in Melle, just south of Ghent, for a look around. It was really interesting to see Belgian brewing done at such an enormous scale. In one corner of the original brewery is the current hospitality suite, due for transformation into the sort of high-concept brand home that all the Belgian breweries seem to be developing these days. It's almost surprising that Huyghe is lagging behind. For now, there are antique bottles and breweriana, some old drays and brewing equipment and, oh yes, a bar.

I knew Huyghe had an abbey beer these days, Averbode, but I'd never tasted it. May as well now, while it's free. This is a blonde ale of 7.5% ABV, perfectly clear of course, and with a somewhat hot and estery aroma of sweet peach and pear. I was surprised, then, to find funky fermenting sileage in the foretaste, before it gives way to the peach and pear again. A pinch of white pepper finishes it off. It's all pretty normal for a Belgian blonde ale but I didn't find myself wanting to trade my more usual Duvel or La Chouffe for this upstart. It gave me an impression of a beer that's designed to fill a niche, rather than having a personality of its own. That said, in the absence of anything better, or anyone seeking payment for it, it will absolutely do.

Guillotine has been part of the Huyghe range for as long as I've been drinking in Belgium, but even though it's widely available with widespread point-of-sale material in pubs, I had never taken the trouble to try it. Here we go then. It's surprisingly good. The ABV is up at 8.5% and that has delivered lots of extra complexity: I got pepper and peach and almond and butter on a crisp blonde base with overtones of toasty champagne about it. This genuinely gave me a similar feel to drinking Duvel, though it has a personality all its own. I doubt it will be very long before I drink my second one.

On the far side of Ghent, in the village of Evergem, was the other big local brewery, van Steenberge. It's best known for its Gulden Draak range of very strong beers. Here they've put significant investment into the hospitality suite, and there were no old carts or copper wort chillers in the slick international-hotel-style bar on the top floor of the brewhouse.

I knew there were lots of Gulden Draak variants but didn't realise quite how many. From the various interesting offshoots available, I was drawn straight to Cuvée Prestige Laphroaig: barrel-aged, of course, but only for 16 weeks. That's not long enough to boost the ABV above the standard version's 10.5% ABV, although the labelleing tolerance at this level is fairly generous, so maybe it has. The aroma is alluringly peaty, like rural Donegal on a crisp cool morning. The dragon asserts itself in the flavour, which is unmistakably Belgian: sweet, smooth and warming with toffee to the fore. The smoke element adds a different kind of sweetness to this, creating an impression of a candied turf sod. I feared it would be harsh and chemically phenolic, but it comes across in a much more nuanced way; balanced even. There were other barrel-aged versions of Gulden Draak available, and now I'm wishing I tried more of them. Oh well.

Instead, I got stuck into the more conventional material from van Steenberge. They have a lager called 1784, badged as an Export, and in that area strengthwise, at 4.8% ABV. Dortmund has nothing to worry about here: it's quite sickly and sweet, in a way that pale German lager never is. Brown sugar and treacle feature in my notes, so it's really not my sort of thing: sickly and difficult. There's a certain dry mineral-water bite in place of bitterness, and that doesn't really work to counteract the sticky. Perhaps this attempt at lager shouldn't be surprising from the Gulden Draak people.

And of course they've tried their hand at craft. "Baptist" is the brand for the "cool" styles, with its very inverted-commas cool branding, all block colours and angular shapes. I don't know if Baptist IPA is meant to be American-style, but again they've reverted to type and produced something still quintessentially Belgian. It's 6.7% ABV and brimming with apricot; the more American grapefruit bitterness reduced to a supporting role. It doesn't go all-in with the esters, though, so is substantially crisper than most Belgian IPAs. It's still a bit basic, all told, however, and it's clear that IPA is not something in which the brewery specialises.

You'd have thought to-style witbier wouldn't be too much of a challenge for them, but the first thing I noticed about draught Baptist Witbier was how clear it is. Still, it has the proper soft wheaty texture, and although it's sweeter than most, that's not a problem here the way it was with the lager. There's lots of orange cordial in both aroma and flavour, plus a lovely assertive peppery spice to balance it out. Like all good witbier, drinkability is paramount, and even on a drizzly November evening I could see this working as a perfect thirst-quencher in warmer weather. I've never seen any of the Baptist beers out in the wild, however, so I don't have a way to, eventually, test that.

About a kilometre down the road from the main brewery, van Steenberge has established a satellite microbrewery and restaurant in what look to be converted farm buildings. The restoration has been very tastefully done and it's all very classy, except for the try-too-hard craft-beer name they've given it: Hopspot. We were bussed down here for late evening drinks and snacks.

Pouring on arrival was Piraat Red, the cherry-flavoured version of their strong blonde ale. As one might expect, this was immensely sweet and syrupy, in the way that large Belgian breweries do crowd-pleasers. It did at least taste of cherry, though very much in a syrupy way. It was served on ice, which I guess is one way to hide the 10.5% ABV, and it worked too. You wouldn't think it was a strong beer, nor indeed a beer at all.

The sub-brands continued with Augustijn Donker, the dark one in their range of abbey beers. This was pretty good, if a little simplistic. Although it's sweet, there's a crispness too: a roasted grain element which provides a pleasing counterpoint to the more typical raisin and fig esters. On the downside, it's clean to the point of dull, a seemingly quite neutral yeast failing to bring the clove and nutmeg spices that make more famous Belgian beers in this style the masterpieces of complexity that they are. As a dumbed-down version, this will absolutely do. Any non-Belgian brewer would be very proud of it.

Gulden Draak Brewmaster was served up next: a straightforward barrel-aged version, using non-specific whisky casks. Still at 10.5% ABV it is unsurprisingly thick and chewy, with a light fizz and strong heat. There's an added whiff of vanilla from the oak, and also a strange and strong white wine effect, which I guess is also oak-derived. A kiss of sweet strawberry finishes it off. This isn't wildly different from basic Gulden Draak, and I can see why they subsequently went more interesting on the barrel front, with the likes of Laphroaig. It does offer a worthwhile twist on the original.

Dessert was another Baptist beer, and one which appears to be mostly exclusive to Hopspot: Offside. Details were not forthcoming, though it appears to be 5.2% ABV and brewed with cherries, or more likely cherry-flavoured syrup. It tastes of cherry candy and summer fruit jam: all very processed and artificial. A little bit of sherbet piquancy classes it up to a tiny degree, but otherwise this is another for the candy beer brigade. I don't know why they thought a serious group like ours would appreciate it. I didn't get a chance to ask anyone before we were herded back on to the bus and off into the murky Flemish darkness.

I have one more van Steenberge to report on, from way back at the opening reception. Fourchette is yet another brand departure, this time evoking fine French cuisine, with a website that looks like a seasonal perfume ad and claiming the involvement of "top chefs". Unconvincing marketing bullshit aside, it's a 7.5% ABV blend of wheat beer and tripel, and retains positive aspects of both: a soft and grainy wholesomeness forms the base, embellished with the warmth, fruit and clove spice of a tripel. I guess it's meant to be served with food, but worked perfectly well by itself. The brewers and blenders did actually come up with something very decent in answer to the risible concept behind it.

Events in Ghent wrapped up on a Thursday afternoon, and when I was planning the trip I thought: yes, I could come straight home, but it seemed like a bit of a waste of a weekend. From the list of just nice places to go which aren't far away, I had picked Haarlem, and headed there next.