40 Beers at 40

Gouyasse Blonde

2009-07-05T20:25:00.002+02:00

This is a beer from a town in Belgium called Ath, and it has a legend attached to it involving witches and giants and so on. More on that at the “Brewery of Legends” website.

I like the brewery’s webpage itself, too, which describes the beer-making process with some nice photos, demonstrating this stuff is lovingly made on a fairly small scale. I’d like to get out to Ath someday and have a look. It’s not too far from Brussels either.

But for those who can’t really be athed with all that, on to the tasting...

It’s an interesting mix of sweet and sour -- just when it seems to be going down a candy-floss route, it turns and hits you with a sharp, citrusy acid on the tongue. Thin and not overly demanding, it’s cool and refreshing on a warm evening like this one. 6%, for those who are counting.

Overall, this beer is not exactly a giant, but it seems able to cast a small spell of its own. Just right for watching our fantastic red sunflowers grow...

Watou Tripel

2009-06-21T20:40:00.003+02:00

Sitting out on the terrace on what has been the longest day of the year in more ways than one. Pouring rain this morning made us think the cinema was a good idea. But “Night at the Museum 2” did not make grumpy girls any less grumpy. Final rays of the sun across the park now with the girls gone to bed... Some peace and beer, at last.

Watou Tripel comes from the same brewery as the great St Bernardus
http://40beersat40.blogspot.com/2009/03/st-bernardus-abt-12-special-edition.html
beers. An abbey beer, this one is mostly standard as tripels go -- a strong blonde Belgian ale, though it is slightly weaker than many at only 7.5%, which is refreshing. One distinguishing feature is a slight honey taste in the finish, a sweetish floral richness.

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North Korean beer

2009-06-21T20:19:00.003+02:00

A colleague sent me this great article on a brewery in Pyongyang: "North Korean beer: great taste, low proliferation risk". Worth a read, if perhaps not a taste...

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Return to Tongerlo Bruin

2009-06-07T16:29:00.001+02:00

I’ve had Tongerlo Bruin before, but Bob’s over and wanted to try it -- and it was on special offer at the supermarket -- so, here’s an updated set of tasting notes...

It pours dark and rich, and you expect it to be a bit thicker in the mouth. It turns out it’s a bit metallic, highly carbonated with an aftertaste faintly spicy. “There’s a bite in the back of the throat”, says Bob. Nona says it’s, “warm at the back of the throat”. Bob notes a “hint of chocolate”, which we’d picked up in last year’s tasting.

It’s better than the ultra-thin darks like Grimbergen Dubbel, but still, it doesn’t have any of the depth and richness I expect in a dark beer. Bob summarises it as: “Not a bad beer, but not great. Though, for 1.91 euro for a four-pack (with the coupon), you can’t beat it.”

Strangely, it gets a bit better -- richer, more flavourful with more aromatics -- as it sits for a bit. Wait about tem minutes for a better beer. Actually, I’ve noticed this phenomenon with other beers: they improve with a bit of sitting before drinking. No idea why that is.

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A quick Belgian beer primer for award-winning Indonesian journalists

2009-06-07T16:24:00.003+02:00

A few weekends ago, we had some friends over for a Belgian beer tasting. Journalists from Indonesia, they were in town here for a few days to collect an important award for their work. The King Baudouin International Development Prize this year went to their KBR68H radio news agency. I met some of these guys back in Jakarta, and I was immediately impressed with KBR68H. They deserved the recognition.

But now, they were on my turf, and I had a duty to take them through a few Belgian beer basics. Time was short, because they had a very tight schedule, including an audience with the King of Belgium. But we managed to sample three.

First came Hoegaarden, then we had Orval, and finally, we had St Bernardus Prior 8. That’s a pretty short introduction to Belgian beer, I know, but not bad... And it gave them something to talk about with King Albert II a couple days after.

I wonder what his favourite Belgian beers are...

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Cramer Kellerbier

2009-04-13T17:44:00.004+02:00

From French beer to German... Cramer Kellerbier is the third beer in the set of three Michael gave me a while back. This one is a “bio” beer, so the eco-friendly buttons are well pushed.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite push any others. It’s an unfiltered, yeasty lager-ish brew. 4.8% and, to me, a bit watery. It’s not bad, mind you, but not nearly as good as the last two in the German collection: Duckstein Original and König Ludwig Dunkel, both just excellent.

Still, it’s a great day out in the evening sun here on the terrace. Last day of holiday before going back to work tomorrow morning. The tulips have been out, adding some welcome colour to the garden after a pretty brutal winter.

Sologne Blonde

2009-04-13T17:20:00.003+02:00

We just returned from a week’s holiday in and around the Loire Valley in France, where the evenings were all about wine, not beer. And cheese... I love French wines, as difficult as it is for me to remember all the details and complexities, but French cheese... especially the goaty ones... oh my... I think I should start a new blog on French cheeses.

With cheese and wine, the French have little to learn, but what about beer?

At the château in La Ferté St Aubin -- a grand pile that kids are allowed to rummage through with few restrictions -- we picked up two 75cl bottles of Sologne, one blond and one ambrée, both local brews.

Sologne Blonde is quite thick, slightly syrupy, with strong grain and yeast flavours. It’s a hearty, dried grass taste that predominates. This bière artisanale is unfiltered and bottle fermented, so it would sit well in a Belgian collection. Particularly as the sun has now come out here on a fantastic spring evening in Brussels...

In short, it’s tasty and worth looking for again. It would also go well with a mimolette (AOC).

Duckstein Original

2009-03-14T20:17:00.003+01:00

Venturing again into the non-Belgian universe, I now pick up the third German beer given to me by Michael on his visit to Brussels the other day. The first one, König Ludwig Dunkel, set a very high standard so is going to be a hard act to follow, that at least is clear from the start...

I am slightly nervous about the “Rotblondes” tag on the label of Duckstein Original. “Red blonde” is not something that draws me in given all the problems I’ve had with red beers. “Auf Buchenholz gereift” -- matured in beechwood -- is somewhat more comforting.

The pour reveals a clear, dark amber colour, little head, not cloudy -- nothing living in this bottle, obviously. What would the Belgians say?

The taste is immediately smooth with thin mouthfeel. A hint of caramel and powerful and lasting hop finish. There is something of a baked cracker in this, too, like a melba toast. 4.9% alcohol, well balanced with other flavours. If I had to compare it to a Belgian beer, I might say Affligem Dubbel, actually. Yum, in any case.

It seems the Hamburg-based brewery also sponsors a series of music festivals in various northern German cities in summer. Hmmm... more holiday ideas...

Belgoo Magus

2009-03-14T17:46:00.002+01:00

Stopped off at the Roxi this afternoon and tried a Belgoo Magus.

On the marketing side, Belgoo is a pretty slick mix of new and old. The logo is modern, but at the same time, they’re really pushing the “all natural” angle of wholesome and traditional brewing.

From Binche in Walonia, Belgoo Magus is a four-grain beer, using barley malt, wheat malt, oats and spelt, as well as Saaz hops. Like many Belgian ales, it’s alive in the bottle, with the yeast working on the product even after it leaves the brewery.

Taste-wise, it seems to me a pretty standard Belgian strong blonde ale. Cloudy and creamy, with powerful hop and yeast flavours, some citrus for sure. 6.6% alcohol by volume. Belgoo Magus is a good representative of the genre but nothing exceptional -- apart from the nifty logo, of course.

St Bernardus Abt 12 Special Edition

2009-03-14T09:51:00.003+01:00

François was in from Kenya this week, so we had him and some others over for dinner and a few Belgian beers. Living in Africa, François was after some decent beer and good cheese, and I think we hit the nail on the head: to get started, we sampled Rochefort 8, Rochefot 10 and Chimay Blue, and after the main course, we had a cheese board including Chimay cheese.

But the real star of the evening was a couple bottles of St Bernardus Abt 12 Special Edition. Yes, one of these bottles was my birthday present, and I had intended to age it for a few years. However, the shop around the corner just got another shipment of the same batch, so cellar supplies have already been refreshed.

“Cloudy”, was François’s first comment, followed by “tasty”. I found it much like St Bernardus Abt 12, but with some liquorice notes. Fiona agreed, saying it was, “like the liquorice in a sherbet fountain”. In other words, light rather than strong.

François also found peppermint, as well as plum, cherry and gingerbread. Fiona, “old plums, maybe, peppermint and fruit, dried apricot”. Nico wrote down that it was “softer than Chimay Blue, a bit sweet and creamy”. I was sensing nutmeg.

The regular St Bernardus Abt 12, which is also sold around the corner, has become a fairly regular beer for me. Our original tasting notes had “banana” down as a component, but over the last two or three months of drinking it fairly often, I have to say I haven’t noticed banana at all. It’s time for a new blog entry on that one.

But returning to this St Bernardus Abt 12 Special Edition: this is an excellent beer. Aging is likely to make it legendary. If I can just have enough patience...

Rodenbach Grand Cru

2009-03-11T23:16:00.006+01:00

I have not really explored Belgian red beers very much here. I guess I am really not excited about them much as a genre. I found Bourgogne des Flandres rather uninspiring, and my review of Rodenbach was pretty neutral: it seemed metallic when I’d first tried it, and not inspiringly better the second time.

Still, we all live in hope, so when I sampled Rodenbach Grand Cru the other day, I did try to approach it with an open mind. The brewery certainly put a lot of work into this beer: it's a mix of one third young, fresh brew and two thirds beer that's been aged for two years in oak barrels. Sadly, though, it didn’t live up even to my meagre expectations.

“Vinegar times ten”, was my first tasting note, though I then imagined a fleeting whiff of cranberry.

“Smells like cough medicine”, was Fiona’s initial comment. “Can you honestly drink that? The sink needs descaling: why don’t you pour it down there?”

Sadly, I couldn’t even finish this one, so yes, some basin descaling did occur.

Will I never find a red beer I really like?

Saving the evening, however, my nephew just sent me his drawing of the car he’s been refurbishing. If he gets it looking that good, it would be pretty cool. Perhaps he can use Belgian red beer as paint stripper...

Ciney blonde

2009-03-07T15:55:00.004+01:00

It seems strange I haven’t reviewed Ciney blonde before. It’s a very common beer here in Brussels, and I’ve certainly had it many times. I wrote up some tasting notes for Ciney brune over a year ago as well, so I’ve no idea why it’s taken me so long to get to Ciney blonde.

The taste is very slightly syrupy, but not annoyingly so like Leffe blond, and “ferrous” says Fiona. Indeed, it’s got a clear iron or blood note to it. “Blood” might scare you off as a taste element, but it shouldn’t. The ferrous aspect really makes Ciney blonde interesting. This is a decent brew -- not outstanding, but decent.

“Not sure it’s worth the calories”, says the dieting wife. Oh well, can’t please everyone.

But we both certainly deserve a beer this afternoon, after spending a few hours in the shops and lugging home a new food processor and kettle. I hate shopping, and looking forward to a beer at the end of it is about the only thing that can get me through a high street ordeal. Much more pleasant at home, where the early spring flowers are out in the garden.

König Ludwig Dunkel

2009-03-05T21:13:00.003+01:00

“König Ludwig, König Ludwig...” I searched my mind aloud while reaching for the beer bottle. “Which one was he again?”

“Ludwig?” Fiona answered through a sore throat she’s been struggling with the past couple days. “He’s the one who built Neuschwanstein. He was insane.”

“Ah, right.”

Well, that’s not entirely fair. Ludvig II of Bavaria did build the crazy 19th-century Disney-before-Disney castle in southern Bavaria, the most photographed tourist attraction in Germany apparently. But “Mad” King Ludwig was actually removed from power on the grounds of mental incapacity even though no medical examination took place. And then he died the very next day, which you have to admit looks pretty suspicious.

This is not some random diversion from the subject of this evening’s beer. König Ludwig Dunkel does indeed have a connection to the Bavarian royal line. It’s got the coat of arms of the House of Wittelsbach on the label, and Luitpold Prinz von Bayern welcomes you to the beer’s website. After a rousing fanfare intro segment. (be sure your speakers are on)

Geography buffs will have noticed that Bavaria is not in Belgium, so yes, this German beer is a bit off-topic for this blog. But at Monday’s tasting of Chimay Grande Réserve 2005, Michael gave me a bottle of this, so a connection to Belgium exists. And it is beer, so, that’s good enough really.

Onward to the pouring... And tasting... This dark brew tastes gorgeously burnt and malty, but it’s not too thick or syrupy. It’s not sweet but has a strong hoppy bitterness. It has good depth, bordering on stout even. You can tell it’s not a Belgian dark ale right away, of course -- no dates, raisins, black cherries, cream, nutmeg, etc. and no high alcohol content either, only 5.1%. But who cares? König Ludwig Dunkel is a lovely beer, a serious contribution to my continuing zymurgological studies. You’d be mad to pass one up. Thanks, Michael!

And since I should be in Bavaria with a few old drinking partners a bit later this year, I think I’ll be seeing this beer again quite soon.

Three-course beer menu at La Rose Blanche

2009-03-03T21:54:00.002+01:00

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Following quickly on the tasting of Chimay Grande Réserve 2005 at Delirium Café, the action moved a few blocks away to Grand Place and the restaurant La Rose Blanche, where we had a fantastic feast. It was three courses, each one made with -- and served with -- a different Belgian beer. The menu speaks for itself...

Appetiser
Warm Goat cheese with a Brug’s White beer syrup
(served with a glass of Brug’s White beer)

Main course
Baked Salmon with Grimbergen brune, Wild rice
(served with a glass of Grimbergen brune beer)

[the other main course option was Breast of Duck with Ciney blonde beer and
potatoes Gratin, served with a glass of Ciney blonde beer]

Dessert
Brussels Waffle with La Chouffe blonde beer
(served with a glass La Chouffe blonde beer)

Just in case you’d prefer the French:

Gratinée de chèvre au sirop de Blanche de Bruges
(accompagnée d’un verre de Blanche de Bruges)

Magret de Canard à la Ciney, gratin dauphinois
(accompagné d’un verre de Ciney)
ou
Saumon rôti à la Grimbergen, riz sauvage
(accompagné d’un verre de Grimbergen)

La Gaufre Bruxelloise à la Chouffe
(Accompagnée d’une Chouffe)

Chimay Grande Réserve 2005

2009-03-03T20:53:00.004+01:00

After more than a year of writing about Belgian beer, I finally managed to get my sorry self over to the Delirium Café yesterday. Pretty poor performance on the part of your Brussels-based correspondent here, given that this old town bar holds the world’s record for having the largest number of beers on sale, including about seven million Belgian ones. OK, a few hundred Belgian ones, but who’s really counting when there are so many on offer? Actually, the Guinness Book people did just that a few years back and found over 2000 types at Delirium.

I went there with Michael, a friend who was in town for a conference we were both attending. He’d just come in from Germany and brought me three bottles of German beer to test -- more on those later, however, because this evening, we were tasting Chimay Grande Réserve 2005.

As you’ll see from the photo, the bottle had quite a different label from the other Chimay GRs I’ve tried -- most notably, not blue. I think the bottle was produced for some kind of exhibition, because a small “LOT: EXPO2005” was painted on the bottle, and the label itself was painted, where usually they are simply paper labels stuck on. Anyway, it made a very convincing pop when the barman opened it for us.

The initial taste was black cherry, smoky oak, and full cream. It seemed to me not as rich as Chimay Grande Réserve 2001, and it surely had none of those “slurry” notes of the Chimay Grande Réserve 1999. Still, you could tell age had done some work here, as there was much more going on than the Chimay Grande Réserve 2007. Few surprises, then -- older beer, more complex taste -- but well worth drinking all the same.

Initially, I wasn’t sure if I would manage to convince Michael, slightly wary of variations from the Reinheitsgebot, of the beauty and variety of Belgian beer. But the Chimay Grande Réserve 2005 did seem to move him in the right direction.

What finally persuaded Michael though, was the dinner that came after. The conference organisers invited us to La Rose Blanche on Grand Place, where everyone was treated to a three-course beer-based menu. That deserves its own blog entry however...

Westvleteren 8 plus one year

2009-03-03T20:16:00.000+01:00

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Unknown to anyone, I have been keeping four bottles of Westvleteren 8 in a secret location ever since we visited the abbey last year. Of course, I tasted Westvleteren 8 at that time, but I wanted to save a few to see what a little age would do.

The fruity tastes we noticed a year ago were indeed gone. Twelve months had taken away sweetness and added liquorice. It seemed more bitter, even slightly astringent. Interestingly, however, that over-sharp aspect dies away after the beer sits for a bit. My conclusion: one year in the bottle adds some interesting flavours if, once poured, you let the beer breathe in the glass for 15 or 20 minutes.

I had this beer on Sunday via video link with Brian, who will be here in Brussels in a few weeks. We’ll try two of those remaining three bottles, and I’ll report back...

Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor

2009-02-22T00:42:00.004+01:00

After Gouden Carolus Classic, and Gouden Carolus Tripel, the third and final beer in our trilogy of tastings at Het Anker brewery in Mechelen today -- now yesterday -- was Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor.

The strange name has a convoluted history. There is a statue on the main square of Mechelen that shows a small man apparently falling onto an uneven surface. This represents the city’s mascot, a wooden doll that would be thrown in the air by a blanket. Now, it seems someone from the rival city of Antwerp tried to make off with the dummy in the late 18th century, and the good people of Mechelen didn’t take kindly to that and roughed him up. This in turn angered the people of Antwerp, and in the nasty back and forth, which seems to have included some rioting, Mecheleners renamed their mascot after the nickname for people from Antwerp, “sinjoors”.

If you are still following all this and are now wondering why Antwerpers get this moniker, then you are more patient and curious than most, so I’ll tell you: Antwerp enjoyed favoured status under Spanish rule (late 16th to early 18th century), and it’s leaders were Spanish noblemen, hence the word “señor”. Calling people from Antwerp “sijnoor” doesn’t bother them in the slightest; in fact, it’s a mark of pride. But running around and tossing their effigy into the air may have been a bit more offensive.

Anyway, the statue on Mechelen’s grand market square is called, “Op Sinjoorke”, and the beer, Hopsinjoor, is a reference to all this and a bit of a play on words, because this is a very hoppy brew. Actually, it’s got four types of hops in it, and the resulting blend of bitters is worth repeating (unlike that story). If you like Orval -- and I do -- then you are going to love this -- ditto. With that refreshingly dry finish, I think it would make a great summer beer in particular.

Leaving you with photos of a very nifty building we came across after leaving Het Anker. Obviously a former pub of some sort, but great sign...

Gouden Carolus Tripel (on tap)

2009-02-21T23:28:00.003+01:00

In addition to our tasting of Gouden Carolus Classic at Het Anker brewery in Mechelen today, we also tried Gouden Carolus Tripel on tap.

Het Anker pub is such a great place to sample beers: relaxed atmosphere, non-smoking, warm and friendly. It’s hard to believe our guidebook to Belgium (Rough Guide) doesn’t mention it on its Mechelen pages. It does have Gouden Carolus in it its top twenty Belgian beers, but no listing for the pub and brewery. Odd.

Anyway, on to the next beer...

Fiona’s taken a shine to tripels lately, with Chimay white label her default beer. But when she started sipping the Gouden Carolus Tripel from the tap at Het Anker, she’d found a new favourite tripel. You can really taste the Curaçao oranges and coriander in this dry, 9% beer. It is excellent, and we subsequently bought a couple bottles to take home. Hope we can find it nearby in Brussels when those run out.

Gouden Carolus Classic (on tap)

2009-02-21T21:31:00.003+01:00

I reviewed this beer before during the official 40b40 marathon, but this time, I had it on tap because I was at the source. We took a family trip today to Mechelen, which is about 25 minutes north of Brussels by train, and in the afternoon, we went to the pub at Het Anker brewery, home of all the Gouden Carolus beers and a few others.

One-time capital of the Low Countries and Belgium’s ecclesiastical capital today, Mechelen is a lovely city, and we had a great time walking around: market on the main square in the morning, then to the cathedral, lunch, other sights, and finally off to Het Anker. I’ve added a photo here of the disjointed town hall, which was built in the 14th century but then had one chunk of it ripped down and remade in a completely new style in the 16th -- the rest was supposed to follow, but then Margaret of Austria, governor of the Habsburg Netherlands, died in 1530, and building ceased mid-stream. The capital moved to Brussels, Mechelen was never the same, and the half-finished town hall is a constant reminder of its lost glory.

The cathedral of St Rombout, also pictured here, is one of the most interesting churches I’ve seen in Belgium. Loads of relics in reliquaries, an amazing wooden pulpit with carved animals, and a series of 25 paintings detailing the life -- and after-life -- of the legendary 8th-century saint himself, whose reliquary we got to see as the back of the altar was opened for some reason. I love relics and reliquaries, particularly bones in transparent cases. Each one is such a wonderful testament to some past scam: “Hey, pilgrim, looking for that special souvenir? How about the fourth metatarsal of Saint Fred?” We also heard the carillon chime, which here is quite a treat, as Mechelen seems to be the world’s top carillon location. They even have an entire music school dedicated to it.

Somehow, I got diverted from the subject, however, which was beer, specifically Gouden Carolus Classic on tap, consumed in the pub at Het Anker brewery. I liked this brew the first time I tried it, and this second tasting confirmed that opinion: dark, sweet, caramel, smoky, leaving syrupy coating on the tongue. I didn’t quite get the aniseed I remember from last time, but I wonder if that’s a flavour that develops over time in the bottle.

Rochefort 10

2009-02-15T21:06:00.002+01:00

This is not a proper blog entry. I just took a lovely photo while Fiona and I were out at a local pub this afternoon, and I thought I'd share it. Rochefort 10 is reviewed elsewhere.

And, of course, posting this now is in no way an effort to cover up the last embarrassing entry...

Old Orval

2009-02-15T20:55:00.003+01:00

Thursday’s tasting of Orval was a bit of a surprise. The intention was to taste fresh Orval and one-year-old Orval and see if we could notice the differences. Well, it didn’t really work out as planned.

It started with Fiona setting up a blind taste test for five of us, using a couple of Orval bottles I bought a year ago and two I just picked up that night. She set out a pair of glasses in front of each of the five of us. So far so good.

Now, my expectation was that the young Orval would be more bitter and hoppy and the older one would be more mellow. As I’ve said before, Orval is normally hop, hop, hop. Plus, I have received a number of emails from Americans desperate to get their hands on the fresh Orval because they say the stuff they buy over there is all old and not sharp enough.

So, when I tasted the two, I quickly sensed the difference and thought I knew what was what. One was very aromatic, bitter and hoppy while the other hardly had any smell and had a taste that was more rounded. I figured this was easy: hoppy meant fresh so that must be the new one. Beermeister Seb agreed with me.

We were wrong.

Turns out the bitter hoppy brew was the old Orval, and the odourless tame one was from the new bottle. No idea what that’s all about, but I am now thinking of hanging up my Belgian beer tasting hat in shame. Olof (pictured above on the right) was the only one of the five of us to call it right. Well done to him anyway...

40b40 turns 41

2009-01-15T20:52:00.002+01:00

Well, it was birthday time again yesterday, and the answer to the question on everyone's mind is...

DEUS!

That's what Fiona and I had to celebrate my turning 41 -- and the first anniversary of the 40b40.

The girls bought me a few nice pressies, including a bottle of Westmalle Dubbel, a bottle of Achel Blond and a tall 750ml bottle of St Bernardus Abt 12 Special Edition in a commemorative tin. That last one is going into the cellar for aging.

Like the birthday boy, some beers get better with age...

Ettaler Kloster Edel Hell

2009-01-13T21:09:00.001+01:00

This is not a Belgian beer, but given its connection to a monastery and the fact that Germany is just next door, I hope readers can forgive me for yet another post that strays from the main topic of this blog.

You’ll have to put up with three such posts, actually, because a colleague bought me a mixed three-pack of beer from Cloister Ettal Brewery in Bavaria, and I intend to sample each one.

Ettaler Kloster Edel Hell is a hearty light lager -- please, not to be confused with that American abomination, “lite beer” -- which to me seems a bit richer than average. It seems creamy for a lager, welcomingly so. Not overly heavy on the alcohol at 5.2%. Perhaps not hoppy enough for me, however.

Gordon Finest Scotch

2009-01-11T20:55:00.005+01:00

I have to admit I have been a bit wary of the bottle of “Gordon Finest Scotch Highland Ale” that has been sitting on my shelf for a year or so. First, I thought it couldn’t even be included in the 40b40, because it wasn’t Belgian.

Then, I wondered what the proclaimed “Highland Ale” on the label could actually mean. The highlands of the Low Countries?

And Gordon? Don’t they make gin?

Finally, I saw some down-and-outs drinking it at about 8 in the morning around the corner from our place and figured it wasn’t going to be anything worthwhile.

Very surprised, therefore, that it’s actually pretty good. The label reads, “strong brown beer with a warm ruby glitter”, and that’s a fair description. It could also say, “malted to the gills” -- the molasses is almost overpowering. 8.6%, but alcohol is the last thing you taste given the strength of the sticky malt.

A respectable winter beer, then. Much to be welcomed after a week of sub-zero weather. (see photo from our flat, below)

Still, there is something strange here in the marketing. The website of brewer Martin’s says, “Gordon Finest Scotch was born in the limpid highlands among isolated lochs and haunting Scottish castles”. Anyone know what “limpid highlands” are?

Palm Dobbel

2009-01-11T17:52:00.003+01:00

Happy New Year! I’m still trying to get caught up on some tasting notes from last year...

Somewhere during the Xmas rush, I tried a Palm Dobbel, a seasonal offering. I found it a bit more watery and less full-bodied than Palm Royale. Strangely, the lack of other tastes accentuated the alcohol, so while it’s only 6%, it actually tastes stronger than Palm Royale at 7.5%.

My advice: just go for the Palm Royale, whatever the season. It’s better ballanced and, well, tastier.