Brew like a Monk

Over the last couple of months I have amassed a considerable library of brewing books by scouring second-hand websites and supplemented by a trip to Powell’s in Portland. I set out with a list I compiled from both the Brewer’s Association and Beer Judge Certification Program’s recommended reading lists. Not by any means comprehensive, I still have enough beer reading to keep me busy up until I move to Davis.

Although I am interested in most styles of beer, I have been fascinated with all things Belgian as of late so I decided to read Brew like a Monk by Stan Hieronymus. Second in a trilogy that focuses on Belgian and northern French beers and the breweries that produce them, it easily stands alone as a guide to Trappist, Abbey and Strong Belgian Ales. Bursting at the seams with knowledge both gained first-hand and relayed to the author, “Monk” is filled with amusing and insightful anecdotes, often from the brewers themselves, never allowing the narrative to become dry or numbingly technical.

But make no mistake, although an interesting read, it is technically oriented and I would recommend it for people with a more than cursory knowledge of brewing techniques and terms. I found the individual brewery histories fascinating, especially discovering the amount to which they influenced each other, sometimes directly. Just learning the distinction between true Trappist and abbey ales proved helpful and it was interesting to see how the monk’s fought to preserve the distinction (beers or any item carrying the official Trappist label must meet three criteria: they must be brewed within an abbey, overseen by the monks and abbot and the largest share of the profits must be spent on social work).

“Monk” left me with much to contemplate and a smile on my face due to Hieronymus and the monk’s superb and understated wit (as in, intellectual humor, not the Dutch beer style). But it also left me with the feeling that one of man’s highest callings is to contemplate their beer. In that spirit and tradition, I purchased a couple of the beers highlighted in the book for sampling.

First up was what many people consider to be the beer that defines the Belgian golden style; Duvel from Moortgat. The bubbly head formed quickly and lasted for days. Smelling of sour banana rounded by sweet malts, the flavors of Duvel are layered and very nuanced for a beer as light as it is. Sweet bread and biscuit tones are buoyed by banana with deep red berry at the edges and a subtle but splendid hop presence, accented ever so delicately by a blend of spices. Duvel is described in “Monk” as tasting like the “tears of an angel,” a claim which I would find hard to refute.

Thirsty Zymurgist Score: 47/50

Next was Orval, which has long been one of my favorite beers. Pouring toffee-orange with a slightly off-white head, the aroma of sweet bread and flowers, orange zest, musty leather and the yeast invade the nose. Delicious malty/yeasty flavor washes over the tongue and is accompanied by more citrus and flowers, hints of spice hiding in the corners and that beautiful brett funkiness keeping the hops in check. Unique while remaining accessible, Orval is a delight to drink alone but it pairs well with just about any meal as well.

Thirsty Zymurgist Score: 48/50

High scores, I know. But when you either define a style (such as Duvel) or encompass a style onto oneself (like Orval) and taste as amazing as they do, it is the very definition of world-class.

Brewing Granfalloons Belgian Tripel

My new brewing friend recently received amazing news: not only was he accepted into grad school at LSU, but furthermore, he received a fellowship grant and will in effect be paid to go to college (congrats!). On the one hand, I am very excited for him and wish him all the best. On the other hand, I am despondent that my new brewing location will shortly be no longer accessible. Looking at the calendar, my brewing partner and I decided we had just enough time to brew one last batch before he leaves in early June.

Although my brewing partner expressed interest in brewing a Belgian, I had my trepidations due to a complete lack of experience in brewing anything in that broad definition of a style. Throwing caution to the wind and stepping off the cliff of experimentation, we decided to go for broke on what may be our last batch of beer together. Our decision was helped along by fortune dropping a tripel recipe into my lap.

Brewing a Belgian proved to be only slightly different than brewing a traditional ale. We had to monitor the mash temperature a little more closely and remember to dissolve the candi sugar before adding it to the mash, but there was nothing too disorienting about the process thanks to my experience brewing other styles.

The wort was a couple degrees warmer than I would have like when we pitched the yeast, but a careful transportation of the carboy to the basement and the yeast took over less than twelve hours later, producing tempestuous activity and the brew continued to ferment vigorously for quite some time.

Although I am sad to see my friend go, I am excited for him to begin the next stage in his life. I am also excited for the two liquid mementos we brewed before his departure: the Bagombo IPA, which we will be bottling tomorrow and the Granfalloons Belgian, which will experience different storage conditions in our cellars separated by 2,358 miles (an interesting experiment in itself), but it is good to have put the effort into creating these ales together before our lives diverge.

St. Bernardus Prior 8

8% ABV

Being a huge hockey fan, this is my favorite time of year. The first round of the playoffs is always exciting because there are multiple games being played everyday for almost two weeks. This year has provided an exceptionally high level of competition and leaves me wondering how anyone could battle like all the teams have been for another month and a half to hoist the Stanley Cup. I will admit my bias, but I do believe that the Cup is the hardest trophy to earn in all of sports.

I digress, and I could easily continue doing so. Where I am trying to steer this post is to expound my belief that nothing goes better with a game of hockey than a tasty craft beer. Although the Molson drinkers out there would disagree, the fine complexities of a craft beer reflect the intricacies of hockey far better than any boring macro could ever hope to (not to mention that craft beer tastes better).

Perusing my stock before tuning in to the game, I decided I was in the mood for something substantially malty so I reached for the Prior 8. St. Bernardus has a well-earned reputation for the quality of their beers and I have long been a fan of their Tripel and Abt 12 so I was excited to try another from their line.

Pouring a dark brown with a substantial head, the nose is filled with chocolate and nutty tones accompanied by a whiff of clove and brandy. The flavor is dominated by the intriguing malt profile; sweet, bready and filling but not without many complexities including raisins, banana, various spices and dry red wine. The earthy hop presence becomes apparent at the back of the palate and it finishes dry on the tongue despite the residual sweetness. I definitely enjoyed my Prior 8 but was not as thoroughly impressed as I have been with previous St. Bernardus brews.

Thirsty Zymurgist Score: 44/50

Lazy Boy Brewing Belgian

8.7% ABV

Considered a suburb of Seattle, the city of Everett has little need to be envious when it comes to breweries. Home to Scuttlebutt, Diamond Knot and Lazy Boy as well as a couple of fine beer bars and shops, Everett’s brewing community is thriving. Lazy Boy Brewing is relatively new to the game (celebrating only their fourth anniversary later this week), but I have tasted three of their ales now and have yet to be disappointed.

Their Belgian could be sub-categorized as a strong golden, and it mostly succeeds. Banana, cloves and yeast dominate the nose of the yellowish amber colored liquid with the soft off-white head. Funky fruit splashes throughout the mouth before the sweet malt rolls in, which disguises the high alcohol content until the aftertaste. Well within the style characteristics, I still felt that overall there was something slightly lacking; perhaps a certain mustiness imparted from too long a stay on a shelf? A well crafted entry to the Lazy Boy line, but next time I reach for the smiling little guy with the beer gut on their label, it will be for their IPA or Porter and would instead depend on a brewery from Belgium to provide me with a Belgian-style golden ale. Call me a traditionalist, if you must.

Thirsty Zymurgist Score: 37/50