This is the last of them. At this point, I had reached the magical land of Bruges, and had consumed enough beers that I fancied myself a regular connoisseur, so my descriptions became, oh, a little ridiculous. Humour me.
Bruges
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| Westmalle Tripel |
Though not the best pairing choice for a giant bowl full of mussels, this is what I chose for my beer nonetheless, the famous Westmalle Tripel. Understand: my trying to describe this beer is like a pimply-faced 15-year-old trying to describe a Domaine Romané-Conté (and yes, in order to know what a really good wine was, I had to google it, because I know more about bananas than I do about wine). Judging from what I wrote, I was going for eclectic. This is verbatim what I had down:
Aroma of fields in summer. Obviously delicious and complicated. Very full-bodied. Begins sharp and finishes long and rye, the flavour sitting not on your tongue but coating the top of your mouth.
Just wait. When I'm a world-renowned beer expert, someone's gonna dig up that little number and have a good laugh at me. Very well, then. Laugh away. I sure will.
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| Bosteels Tripel Karmeliet |
Yet another one that needs no introduction. I'd seen this one several times but never seemed to find a chance to drink it. I was at the surprisingly well-stocked bar at my hostel, and because I ordered it at happy hour (1€ per Jupiler, or something of the like), the bartender tried to change my mind. I smiled, shook my head and said, "I'm just craving a Karmeliet." It could have been straight out of a commercial. Remember, you saw it here first.
The unmistakable caramel aroma and flavours combined with the lightness of its effervescence for a really great, almost light start, that then faded to a smooth and velvety mouthfeel that finished sweet.
Bruges: The Night of the Three Bars
It was my last night in Bruges and I wanted to go out in style, so I decided to hit up the more famous bars in town, at least those that were known for their beers. I traced a trajectory on my handy
Use It Map (Seriously, though? Use it.) as I enjoyed this little number at the hostel bar, which I should add is not one of the three bars.
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| Duboissons Frères à Pipaix Cuvée des Trolls |
Gotta love that bottle and glasswear, first of all. Second of all, a good beer, very well balanced. It reminded me of an IPA but not the Canadian style that loads on the hop almost recklessly. It carried a grassy aroma, and remained quite light and effervescent palate-wise but still had a good solid, hoppy flavour, and then finished clean.
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| Bar #1: 't Poatersgaat |
This was a tricky one to find, and I must have walked past it twice before finally noticing this little trap door open in the corner of a building. Take a good look at this classic pub. Such a beauty, and an enviable beer selection too. The bartender helped me choose, and we chatted for awhile about beers and importing and all that good stuff.
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| De Ranke XX Bitter |
It had a strong hop presence and lingering, bitter, dry finish. Although as a Belgian beer, it is not restricted to the Rheinheitsgebot (German beer purity law), its flavours did remind me of Germany.
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| Bar #2: Bauhaus |
Bauhus was like my hostel and was kind of half bar, half hostel, really. A really great atmosphere, and I took a few snapshots for my records. Some day, several aspects of this bar will be duplicated in Canada.
Although I don't know that I'm quite so ambitious as to try to replicate their insane chandeliers.
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| St. Bernardus 12 |
I felt a little silly checking with the bartender about whether this was indeed a Belgian beer, but then when he himself didn't know, I felt better. It became a favourite of mine, and one that I went on to pick up and bring home with love and care. Its aroma was of a rich maltiness and dark berries. The first impact on a virgin palate is almost shocking - it attacks it and coats it in a multitude of flavours, some subtle, some not. I called its balance "teeter-totter" because it seemed to swing wildly from a fruity sweetness to an almost hoppy finish that then sours on the middle and back of your tongue.
I should note that several days later, when I was out with a German in Rotterdam, he ordered this beer, which sent me into a tirade of praises.
His opinion of me diminished significantly after he'd tasted it. Don't let Germans drink this beer. They just don't get it.
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| Bar #3: Staminee de Garre (but known simply as "La Garre") |
Yet another bar I would never have found without the help of Use It (
Seriously, though? USE IT.). It's shoved down an obscure alley somewhere between the Grand Market and the Burg. When I arrived the tables were full, and the bartender told me I'd have to either join an existing table or wait for one to empty. I offered to just stand at the bar, but he informed me in a very Belgian-like, over-polite manner that there was no standing, so I asked a quiet couple sitting nearby if I could share their table.
It was a pretty swanky joint.
I would like to make a special mention of the people sitting at a table across from my own, what appeared to be a Belgian couple entertaining an American couple. And when I say American, I mean American. I'm usually bad at picking up the difference between a typical American accent (excluding, of course, the easy ones like Boston, New York or the southern states) and a Canadian accent, but there was something about the way these two spoke that painted them a bright red, white and blue. Maybe it was the way the woman said daintily yet firmly, "I don't like beer," or the way the man would make very loud and laughable declarations like, "Beligan beers are very, very good." Whatever it was, it amused me enough to make me linger for a little while despite feeling out of place in the silver-spoon environment that the bar was carefully cultivating.
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| La Garre |
This is their famous house beer, which isn't commercially available and only served at La Garre. It's definitely worth the pilgrimages it undoubtedly inspires. First of all, it's served on a little doilied tray with some soft, mild cheese. How great is that?
It had a very striking aroma, like cloves or some other rich, pungent spice. The mouthfeel, as the titanic foamy head suggests, is thick and creamy. And that flavour! Smooth caramel that finishes very, very malty, and yet betrays some hint of hops somewhere. You don't know where it comes from or where it goes, but it's there.
Also, eating the cheese with it turns it into a delicious cheesecake.
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| Mort Subite |
I headed back to the hostel, where party time was in full swing. I chose the classic Gueuze just to cross it off my list. Its aroma is of orchards, and tastes of sour green grapes and apples. The finish, though, is what I really liked, jumping out sweetly rather than just drawing out the initial tartness.
On my way out of Bruges, with backpack in tow, I stopped in at The Bottle Shop. I was like a kid in a toy store. I eventually only chose three: Alpaide Donker, La Chouffe and Bernardus 12. (My parents got first dibs, and Dad chose the Alpaide. I was pleased.)
Rotterdam
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| Brand Pilsener |
For a pilsener, it was quite sweet, leading me to wonder whether Dutch pilseners are meant to be sweeter than their German or Czech cousins. I'd better hit the books again, either way. Its mouthfeel was typically prickly and the finish was only slightly more bitter.
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| 't Ij Zatte |
This beer is from Amsterdam but I figured I was close enough. Its aroma was sweet and malty and faintly of honey. I tried to capture the flavours, which were slightly sweet upfront - is that orange peel, I wondered - and then a rich honey finish, not thin but strong and dry.
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| Koningshoeven La Trappe Isidor |
This is the only night I can say with absolutely certainty that I drank too much. I hit up a bar called "The White Ape" on Rotterdam's lively Witte de Withstraat with some lovely little Australians and a quiet Brit. I tried a few old faithfuls before picking out something new, but by that time, my descriptive faculty was mostly compromised. From the largely unintelligible literature on my phone, one can decipher the phrases "very balanced," "dissolves slowly on tongue," and "citrus."
Amsterdam
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| Grolsch |
A Dutch classic, and readily available in Canada so I'd definitely had it before. It was bitter and dry but its flavours were pleasantly of sweet corn.
The kind of sight you never get tired of seeing. This bar was called Arensnest Proeflokaal in Amsterdam, I invited along a German friend, who himself brought along another. They were great drinking partners, mostly because they were tolerant of my beer nerdness. They also forgave me for my bar choice, which was perfect in my eyes because of its strictly local Dutch beer list, but was dismally quiet on a Tuesday night.
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| Ramses Kuiter |
A nice little blonde, only 4.5% and yet carbonation was very faint and low. I could only describe its aroma as "farmy," and its palate was floral and finished clean.
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| Arendsnest Huisbier Tempelbier |
Another thinly carbonated beer (maybe their draught lines were bad, I wondered), with a very hoppy aroma and sharply hoppy flavour, but watery and thin overall.
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| Budels Capucijn Dark Abbey Ale |
The aroma made me think of fig pudding: strong and fruity. It was sweet, malty and very strong and tasted almost like raisins. Generously carbonated and finished sweetly too.
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| 't Ij Ijwit |
Having been turning to my phone every time we ordered a beer, I had to keep profusely apologizing to my drinking companions for my rudeness. This led to a woefully barren description for this one. All I deigned to write was, "Hoppy, hay aroma, sweet finish, citrus notes."
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| Kasparus Kersepit |
This was a "cherry" beer, so it smelt and tasted of, you guessed it, cherries. And yet, it was very well-executed, so that the cherry never overwhelmed but merely accompanied your palate.
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| Heineken |
My very last European beer. I normally try and steer clear of big brands but I was in the mood for something easy and it seemed fitting. I mean, I
was flying out of Amsterdam, Heineken's capital, the very next morning. And maybe my palate has evolved throughout this journey, because I really did appreciate what I had never noticed before in a Heineken. It was watery, clean and dry like I remembered, but I picked up notes that I never would have looked for a month ago, subtle hints I don't yet have a name for.
I will say this. Experiencing all of these beers has definitely hardened my resolve to become a Cicerone. And who knows, maybe one day a Master?
