Hanging with Bernard

The weather hasn't improved much since my last round of St Bernardus beers back in June. Not that that stopped me trying out the lighter and paler beers in the range.

St Bernardus Wit first, with its strikingly non-retro foil label. It's quite pale and yellowish, and shares the same kind of firm heavy head as the Prior 8. The texture is very prickly, generally a positive addition to the classic witbier spice. But of that spice there was very little sign. The whole taste experience was really rather watery to begin with. I'd been storing the bottle on its side in the fridge so had let it stand a while before opening, to allow the considerable sediment drop down to the bottom. Really I shouldn't have bothered: as soon as the lees went in the flavour opened up and all the great things about Belgian witbier came out. The coriander and orange peel were easily spotted and there's even a good bit of hop character to it. The result is an aftertaste of spice and honey following an up-front tart and sherbet-like citrus kick. The fingerprints of Pierre Celis, godfather of witbier, are all over this. Yet for all the complexity and rather high 5.5% ABV, it's still a very quaffable beer and didn't last long in my glass.

The monastic hierarchy series of ales bottoms out with Pater 6, pouring light brown with lots of floaty bits and that familiar cream topping. The nose is brimful of raisins, though the taste is light on fruit, with just a hint of it, dominated by a sharp and yeasty bitterness. My overall impression was of an easy-going, relatively lightweight, but very Belgian dark ale: your every-day sort of abbey beer.

Last of the bunch is the Tripel. From the bottle it's a beautiful shade of orange with a promising suggestion of spices on the nose. A bit like the Wit, I was underwhelmed with my first sip and was about to dimiss it as flavourless when the toffee arrived: big slabs of it. What I'm normally after in a tripel is summer fruits and exotic spices, but there are only traces of these in here. The end result is quite low-key, but pleasant enough. No match for any of the trappists in the tripel stakes, however.

(The complex historical relationship between the St Bernardus brewery at Watou and the nearby brewing monks of St Sixtus in Westvleteren is explained rather well by Stan Hieronymous here.)

Next on the agenda for me is the Great British Beer Festival in London tomorrow. I'm on the red-eye to Heathrow in the morning and -- what with all those wonderful-sounding strong beers to try before 5pm -- the even-redder-eye home again.

Cloistered

It was miserable on Saturday. Sheets of horizontal rain to the accompaniment of the occasional ka-thunk-ka-thunk-ka-thunk as bits dislodged from my incomplete roof. In the early afternoon I trekked down to the docklands to see if Ely HQ was selling O'Hara's stout on draught, like its sister house on Custom House Quay. It was, but that was a very damp Beer Nut enjoying his pint and steak sandwich by Grand Canal Dock. Lesson learned. If ever an evening was meant for staying in and exploring strong Belgian ales, it was Saturday.

The warm-up act was St Bernardus Prior 8. At first taste I wasn't astounded by it, and then scolded myself for getting so blasé about what is a really really good beer. Brown of body, it's heavily sedimented, with skirls and eddies of yeast clumps riding the gas bubbles inside. The texture is one of the high points: lightly carbonated, leaving a smooth body and a superb thick and creamy head. The flavour is not especially strong and is redolent of dark fruit: plums, damsons, that sort of thing. The lees contribute just a bit of a sharp kick on the end. Other than the understated flavour, my other criticism is that the mouthfeel is just a little thin for such a strong dark ale, though that could be down to the slightly higher-than-recommended temperature I drank it at. Should have left the bottle out in the rain a bit longer.

I moved on then to the next in the range: Abt 12. The cap came off with a pop, followed by some foam. Then more foam. I waited for it to stop. It didn't. So my horrible soon-to-be-disposed-of carpet got the benefit of a fair bit of the beer. More than it deserves. Despite all those bubbles, the head didn't stay on this for very long. The gassiness keeps going, however, and I found the sharp sparkle got in the way of the flavour. It's dark fruits again, but drier, and not really as noticeable as with the Prior. The bitter, fruity aroma is nice, suggesting that this has the makings of a better beer in it, if only they got the other parts right. I have to say I was disappointed.

There are more St Bernardus beers around on the Irish market at the moment, and I'm aiming to get to them all eventually. With these ones, the Prior 8 is worth a look as a low-budget alternative to the first-string Trappists. But I'd exercise more caution with the Abt 12. Like opening it over the sink and within reach of a glass.