While some classics may forever hold a special place in our hearts, sometimes we forget to return to those delicious spaces. Here, a call to come back and rediscover the one-of-a-kind world of Belgian beers.
WORDS Stephen Beaumont
IMAGES Matthew Daley
In the 1990s, when North American craft breweries and their beers were still “micro,” inspiration was drawn principally from three European countries: Germany, which had been influencing beer in the New World since the mid-1800s; England, the pale ale and IPA of which were busy being transformed into modern incarnations; and Belgium, its quirky, malt-forward and unconventional beers fascinating brewers and beer drinkers alike.
While it is unfortunate that every one of these landmark brewing nations has been marginalized in the current craft beer consciousness—Germany’s classic Pilsners replaced in importance by Czechia’s and, curiously, Mexico’s lagers, and English ales all but forgotten—arguably the greatest loss to the North American market has been Belgium, the influence of which went from a tsunami to the merest trickle in little more than a decade.
CREATIVE BEFORE CREATIVE WAS COOL
Although much is often made of the innovation found through the years in North American craft brewing, since the entrenchment of the American style of pale ale and IPA, that “innovation” has all too often involved little more than the dumping of oddball ingredients into different base beers. Belgians, on the other hand, have been experimenting and innovating in the brewhouse for generations.
“Belgian brewers know how to give a beer dimension,” wrote English author and journalist Michael Jackson in his 1997 book, Beer Companion, and he could scarcely have been more correct. Whether it’s a high-strength Trappist tripel, a spontaneously fermented and skillfully blended gueuze lambic, or a tart Flemish red ale aged in the massive wooden tuns known as foeders, Belgians rarely do anything in the brewery without first having specific intent.
Take, for example, the aforementioned red ales of West Flanders, and their related brown cousins (also known as oud bruin, meaning old brown, or Flanders Brown) from the region’s East. In the days before the widespread use of hops as a preservative in brewing, Belgian brewers discovered that the use and reuse of oak barrels could promote acidity in their beers, specifically of the lactic variety produced by bacteria, thus extending their lifespan. That this aging and subsequent blending with fresh beer produced attractive flavors of tart fruit was a bonus, albeit a significant one.
While preservation is less a concern today, numerous brewers have continued the Flemish red and brown ale traditions, including Rodenbach, Duchesse de Bourgogne and Bourgogne de Flandres on the red side, and Liefmans, Petrus and Bacchus for the bruins. The production of such beers is complex and time-consuming, but for the Belgians, well worth the effort.
Similarly, and more modernly, when Yvan De Baets, cofounder of Brasserie de la Senne in Brussels, discovered in his friend’s homebrew what he described as “the Brettanomyces of my dreams,” he knew he needed to explore the potential of the yeast strain known for its musty, leathery, sometimes barnyardy characteristics. So he isolated and cultured the wild microflora and employs it exclusively to ferment his Bruxellensis. Further, rather than release the pale ale in a youthful state as any number of brewers might do, he patiently ages it for months at the brewery to tease out its full and flavorful potential.
WHERE THE WILD YEASTS ARE
De Baets’ fascination with wild yeasts is echoed throughout Belgium, a product of the country’s long-standing affection for the beers known as lambics.
Made from roughly one-third wheat, two-thirds malted barley, aged hops that supply zero bitterness, and wild yeasts and other microbes, including Brettanomyces, which provide spontaneous fermentation, lambic in its most basic form is flat or almost so, dry and vinous, especially in oude or “old” form. Much more common is the beer’s blended, bottled and refermented evolution known as gueuze, which in its dry, tartly fruity character bears more resemblance to vintage Champagne than it does to, say, porter or Pilsner.
When lambic sales dipped in their home market through the end of the last century, their production was supported by an enthusiastic export market, which in turn was buoyed by the writings of beer maven Jackson and a handful of others.
As prices have increased significantly since then, their popularity has fallen off somewhat in North America, but has equally risen in Belgium, to the point that new lambic producers like Gueuzerie Tilquin and Lambiek Fabriek, and non-lambic wild fermenters such as Antidoot, are finding significant success at home.
While Belgium is without question the place of origin for any number of beer styles, from industry standards like tripel and witbier, or Belgian-style wheat beer, to such barely defined beers as saison and grisette, the national approach to brewing is more one of individuality rather than adherence to a style description.
A COUNTRY OF MULTITUDINOUS STYLES
While Belgium is without question the place of origin for any number of beer styles, from industry standards like tripel and witbier, or Belgian-style wheat beer, to such barely defined beers as saison and grisette, the national approach to brewing is more one of individuality rather than adherence to a style description. Or as Tom Jacobs, who runs Antidoot alongside his brother, Wim, puts it, “We don’t make ‘styles,’ we just explain what it is we do.”
For beer drinkers growing bored with an endless parade of pale ales and IPAs, Belgium thus provides a playground for the discovery of new flavors. Whether it’s the tangy refreshment of an oude gueuze, particularly delicious when served alongside good bread and crumbly goat cheese, the bracing fortitude of a tripel served in its trademark chalice-like glass or the malt-led charm of an almost black ale fermented to wine-like strength, Belgium’s brewing landscape provides a range of tastes, aromas and experiences the likes of which are rarely found elsewhere.
As with so many of Europe’s traditional beer paradises, Belgian beer is best explored in situ, whether in a country café with a small but surprisingly diverse beer list, at a restaurant where beer and food pairing becomes an art form or at any of the country’s recently opened beer-themed attractions, such as Brussels’ new Belgian Beer World. Thankfully, however, for those unable to make the trip, plenty of great Belgian beers are still imported into North America, from centuries-old family-run breweries and years-old newcomers alike.
With beer sales in North America presently waning and the general public growing increasingly blasé about craft breweries and their beers, it may just be time for the Belgian tsunami to take off again. Here’s hoping it shall.
DRINK IT IN
Whether you’re rediscovering the classics or looking for something new to try, you won’t be disappointed in these diverse Belgian beer recs.
TEN CLASSICS:
3 Fonteinen Oude Kriek – Tart cherry, remarkable depth of flavor
Cantillon Gueuze – Tart, dry, the beer version of Champagne
Duvel – Bold, potent, dry, dangerously quaffable
Orval – Hops, funk and malt in perfect balance
Rochefort 8 – Sweet, rich, a showcase of malt
Rodenbach Grand Cru – Foeder-aged, fruity tang, utterly refreshing
Saison Dupont – Spicy, hoppy, archetype of its style
Silly Scotch – Dark, sweet, rich, playful
St. Bernardus Abt – Fruity, bitter-sweet, stunning
Westmalle Tripel – Blonde, strong, deliciously complex
FIVE NEW SCHOOL:
De la Senne Taras Boulba – Hoppy, quenching, wholly delightful
Dolle Brouwers Stille Nacht – Rich, rewarding, warming
Glazen Toren Jan De Lichte – Wheaty, citrusy, strong
Malheur Bière Brut – Pale, spritzy, fruity-floral
Tilquin Quetsche – Slightly sharp-edged, sumptuous, plummy
This article was published in the Fall 2024 issue of Full Pour. Don’t own it? Pick one up today!