The Brussels hustle

The reception I wrote about (the beers of) on Monday was part of a three-day meeting of the EBCU in Brussels last month. It included, and facilitated, the drinking of Belgian beers in a variety of venues around Brussels. I helped by staying on for two extra days afterwards.

Immediately after the reception, a few of us ended up in the Irish theme pub around the corner, The Wild Geese: a vast and rambling joint, which was pleasingly buzzy on the Thursday night. The beer selection is no great shakes, however, and I opted for St Hubertus Triple Citra, more out of curiosity than any expectation of excellence. I'm guessing this is Carlsberg's attempt to muscle in on Duvel's C-hop edition. There are certainly similarities in the flavour but this one is much less subtle, loaded up with almost sickly perfumed floral flavours. At heart it's still a basically decent Belgian blonde ale, weighty and honey-sweet, but it has a very obvious gimmick of big American hops tacked on. I got through the glass OK, but wasn't hugely impressed.

The following day I had lunch in Billie, the bar which has taken the space of beloved Brussels institution Monk. Mercifully, it has been left almost exactly as it was before, down to the menu and beer selection. After my spaghetti, I had the house beer, Billie. This is brewed by Belgoo, and I wouldn't be surprised if it's simply a rebadge of something else. It's a straight up blonde ale of 5.8% ABV with lots of very typical Belgian flavours: both pithy and earthy; grapefruits and farmyards, with a sprinkling of white pepper spice for a savoury, saison-like, finish. It's not an especially distinctive beer, but is classically constructed and made well.

I had another from Belgoo at the Wolf food market, where they run the brewery. Belgoo Hoppy Pils is beautifully clear and golden. There's a slightly worrying hint of perfume about the aroma but the flavour goes full-on citrus, with zesty lemon up front, followed by a gentler satsuma or kumquat effect. That's set on a very simple malt base, properly lager-clean and nicely full-bodied, as one would expect at 5% ABV. To me, it comes across as something in the Italian pilsner style, but regardless of nomenclature it's very tasty and easy-drinking. Before this trip I didn't think I liked Belgoo's beers. These two gave me pause, and indicated why breweries' beers are often worth revisiting.

Staying in the food zone, we ate at Chez Léon on the way out, and this restaurant has its own blonde ale too, called Bière Léon. The internet tells me it's brewed at St-Feuillien, and the 6.5% ABV matches that of their blonde ale Saint Basle, so maybe it's a rebadge of that. It's pretty basic, and I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that it's Leffe, rather than a more reputable Belgian brewer. There's a hint of floral honey and some mild fruit candy, but nothing to distract you from your moules.

Around the corner, on a flying lunchtime visit to Delirium, I tried Trouble Maker, a New England-style IPA from brand new Belgian brewer Kerberos. This is a full 7% ABV and the pale yellow opaque colour of orange juice. Bags of vanilla and heaps of garlic tell you straight away what kind of beer you're getting, but there's also enough citrus pith and zest to add more life and freshness to it. On balance, it works quite well. It's the sweet and fun sort of hazy IPA, and that's despite quite a serious ABV of 7%. I liked how it was flavourful but not especially demanding on one's attention. Kerberos only launched last November, and this is their first beer, but they seem to know what they're doing.

Taking advantage of the sunshine, post-meeting beers on Saturday began at Grand Hospice, the huge beer garden in central Brussels. It was serving big jugs of Patatje, by Fort Lapin, one of which Reuben inadvertently ordered. We made the best of it. It's a murky orange colour and a little bit gritty with hints of savoury onion but, like the previous beer, adds enough citrus fun to largely offset its problems. As the name implies, potatoes are an ingredient, and I wonder how much of the soft texture can be put down to that. All told, though, it's a pretty good pale ale, nicely hopped and very accessible, though no lightweight at 6% ABV.

There was just a quick call in at Gist, and a snifter of Thor, a brown ale by Valduc. I wasn't a fan of this, from the sad, flat appearance, to the strong solvent aroma, to the harshly alcoholic flavour. While the latter shouldn't be a surprise given that it's 9% ABV, Belgian brewers can usually pull off this kind of thing with more panache. Here, the body is nastily thin and the only redeeming feature is an enjoyable chocolate character. It's not enough to save the beer, however. Pass.

A somewhat more leisurely time was spent at, or rather outside, Moeder Lambic Fontainas early on the Sunday afternoon. Round one here brought the Oud Bruin from West Flanders brewery Verzet. I'm not a huge fan of the style but thought this was an excellent example, tasting more like a Flanders red than oud bruin, which I count in its favour. It's a clear chestnut colour in the glass, and while sour, is not full-on vinegar. The flavour features a thick seam of luxurious dark chocolate plus a surprise dusting of fresh coconut. It's all very poised and classy, where too often these are a mish-mash of clanging flavours, ending up tasting more like soy sauce or balsamic than beer. This one is its own thing, emphasising the positives while keeping the clanging to a minimum.

And on the right of the picture is Schwarzbier by Brussels-based Germanophiles La Mule. It's one of those beer styles I try not to miss when I see it. And this is a good example, if a little extreme. It's strangely flat and quite un-lager-like, with a full and porter-esque body, feeling all of the 5.8% ABV and more. The aroma presents coffee and charcoal, which converts into an ash-dry flavour, delivering a raw burntness which I found quite severe and took some time to get used to. I did, though, and was enjoying the boldness of it all by the half-way mark. The secret is the quick lager finish which prevents it from becoming too harsh. A piece of strong cheese would have accompanied it nicely.

I stayed with La Mule for the next one, their Berliner Weisse. I doubt that this is a quick-and-dirty kettle-soured job because I thought I could detect a funky agricultural note in the aroma, suggesting Brettanomyces at work. It looks innocent enough, being a wan hazy yellow. I assumed a low strength, but it turns out to be a substantial 4.8% ABV. That gives it quite a creamy texture, far from the thin and sharp norm. The description doesn't mention fruit but I got a distinct lime citrus note at the centre of the flavour, though that may be a feature of generous hopping with some modern variety. There's mix of wild spice and funk swirling around this, and the result is at once complex and supremely refreshing. It's nice to see a brewery taking Berliner weisse seriously for once.

It seems to be something of a trend among Belgian breweries to make lower-strength versions of their flagship beers. La Chouffe, part of the Duvel-Moortgat stable, is the latest I've found, creating La Chouffe Lite: half the strength of the original at 4% ABV. That should make it markedly different, but it does a very good job of packing in the Chouffe signatures. For one thing, it's not thin, and retains the slickness of a much stronger beer. Nor is the flavour compromised: there's lots of fun Belgian fruit, all brightly tropical, bringing cantaloupe, lychee and pineapple. It does seem a bit sweeter than standard La Chouffe, and maybe the lower alcohol is a cause there, but there's also a lovely dusting of the original's white pepper spice which helps offset the sugar. When I wrote about the lower-strength version of Westmalle Tripel, I noted approvingly that it still has all the Belgian character one would want. The same goes for this. A bigger serving might be hard going, but as a low-strength substitute for full-fat gnome, it works very well.

On the hoof on Monday, I chugged a bottle of Cornet Smoked blonde ale, having picked it up in a supermarket the previous evening and not got round to drinking it. There are a raft of brand extensions of the oaky blonde ale from Palm, and this is one of them, keeping to the original's 8.5% ABV. There's an initial kick of unsubtle kippery smoke, but it fades in short order to become a very plain blonde ale once more. While the smoke isn't overdone, and legitimately passes as a seasoning rather than a gimmick, the base beer doesn't have enough going on for the smoke to contrast or complement it, and it does feel quite artificial and tacked-on as a result. I'm glad I tried it, and it was honestly better than I thought it would be, but I won't be rushing back for more.

I didn't have space in my bag for that one, but did make room for a bottle of Dupont Moinette, having discovered recently that there's no record of it on this here blog. Here we go then. Publicity photos show it with a fine thick white head but I got only a thin layer of short-lived loose bubbles. The aroma is quite saison-like, with a crisp grain dryness meeting peppery spice and peachy fruit. It's quite a heavy beast, moreso than most other blonde ales at 8.5% ABV. If the aroma promised a lightness of touch, the flavour doesn't deliver anything of the sort. Stonefruit is powerfully present in the foretaste, peaches meeting lychee in syrup and apricot jam. It turns bitter in the finish, with a green old-world hop leafiness. That makes for a pleasing contrast, with the sweeter side returning in the aftertaste. There's a heat which means it's not as casually drinkable as, say, Duvel, but I liked this beefier take on the style. While it has taken me a while to get to, I'll be coming back to this.

One more post wraps up this trip to Brussels, and we'll go properly wild in that. Until Friday, then.