87. Rodenbach Grand Cru

Since we’re in the West End, let’s pop into Lowlander, a super little specialist beer café on Drury Lane.

Threehundredbeers is a big fan of Lowlander: with friendly, efficient table service, a very impressive range of—typically, but not exclusively Belgian—beers, and a sophisticated yet relaxed atmosphere, it’s as close to being back in Brussels as one can get in London.

Of course, you’ll pay exactly twice as much for a given beer as you’d pay in, say, Poechenellekelder, but hey, this is London, and if you can find this range of beers cheaper elsewhere, well done you.

And this beer certainly is something a little out of the ordinary. Indeed, Rodenbach Grand Cru is in a chapter all of its own in The Book: it’s categorised as a Belgian Sour Red Beer, which describes it rather well—it is all four of those things—though the style is often known as Flanders Red.

Rodenbach Grand Cru

Rodenbach Grand Cru pours a lovely deep reddish brown colour, with a modest layer of tan foam sat nonchalantly on the top. The first sip is both sweet and sour in equal measure. Those flavours are followed by a smooth malty body full of tangy dried fruits, pepper and musty wild yeast.

If you concentrate, you can also detect the woody edge that results from the beer having spent the better part of two years ageing in oak barrels before bottling.

As someone whose experience of sour beers has been limited to things like Gueuzes from Cantillon, and The Kernel’s hugely refreshing London Sour, this one comes as quite a surprise. One doesn’t expect sourness from a beer of this colour, or as full-bodied as this.

And yet it works remarkably well: with a Gueuze it can sometimes be hard to taste anything beyond the sourness, but as a red beer, this is so well-balanced, with its malty sweetness complementing the sour beautifully.

Lowlander Grand Café

This is a deeply complex beer. There’s so much going on that the experience of drinking it is closer to enjoying a fine wine than to knocking back a pint or two of lager in your local. It’s even served in what appears to be an oversized wine glass.

Rodenbach Grand Cru really is special. It’s a fine beer, though as with other sours, I can’t imagine wanting to drink more than one or two in a session. That said, this is definitely one beer I’m glad that the blog has introduced me to, and one that I’ll be enjoying again as soon as I can.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brouwerij Rodenbach, Roeselare, Belgium
Style: Belgian Sour Red Beer
Strength: 6.0% ABV
Found at: Lowlander Grand Café, Drury Lane, London WC2B
Serving: 330ml Bottle

86. Koningshoeven La Trappe Dubbel

The next stop on our brief tour of London’s West End takes us to De Hems, a historically Dutch-run pub and former oyster bar, music industry meeting place and alternative comedy venue on the edge of Chinatown.

De Hems, London

De Hems is steeped in history, but has fairly recently become part of the Nicholson’s empire of chain pubs.

It’s to Nicholson’s credit, though, that they haven’t squeezed the life out of it. De Hems is thankfully more like a continental beer café than a London chain pub, and its array of Dutch and Belgian beers, its list of bewilderingly-named Dutch foodstuffs, and its friendly welcome mean it remains as popular with natives of the Netherlands as with London office workers.

Most usefully for 300 Beers, it also has this particular Trappist ale on tap.

Koningshoeven La Trappe Dubbel

The Dutch-based Koningshoeven abbey was until recently the only Trappist brewery outside Belgium. It can be reasonably tricky to find their beer in the UK even in bottles, and I’m not aware of it being available on tap anywhere else.

You could have a pint if you liked, but as this one weighs in at 7.0% ABV and it’s lunchtime, we’ll stick to a half and enjoy having it served in the correct glassware, as is typically the case at De Hems.

Served from keg it’s a little too cold, but as it warms in your hand it reveals itself to be the archetypal Trappist Dubbel: full of dates, sultanas and malt loaf. La Trappe Dubbel is smooth and very easy-drinking, and while the malty sweetness means it never quite tastes its full 7%, there’s a nice, warming booziness all the same.

While a little lighter-bodied than the Westmalle Dubbel, La Trappe is still less watery than the Chimay Rouge, both obvious points of reference for what is a very similar beer. The finish is satisfyingly peppery and perhaps a little moreish.

Moreish enough that I had a second one anyway, and have since been back to De Hems for more, drawing a knowing smile from the barman. There are two more La Trappe beers to be tracked down, and I wonder if we may have to travel further than Chinatown to find them.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Abdij Onze Lieve Vrouw van Koningshoeven, Berkel-Enschot, Netherlands
Style: Trappist Beers
Strength: 7.0% ABV
Found at: De Hems, Macclesfield Street, London W1D
Serving: Keg, half pint

85. Budweiser Budvar

Allow me, dear reader, to take you on a brief stroll down Memory Lane, or a least down St. Martin’s Lane, to a magnificent little pub in the heart of London’s West End named The Salisbury.

The Salisbury is a bit of a stunner: a proper old Victorian pub, with a well preserved Gin Palace interior full of etched mirrors, brass statuary and wood panelling, and more history than you can shake a stick at.

This is a pub where Dylan Thomas, Michael Caine and Terence Stamp have drunk, where Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton held their second wedding reception, and where Gered Mankowitz famously photographed a beautiful 27-year-old Marianne Faithfull in the 1960s.

Now, bear with me when I tell you that we’re going to have a pint of lager.

image

It’s a good, Czech lager all the same and—you may be surprised to learn—it’s what I used to drink of a far-too-regular lunch hour or evening in the Salisbury many years ago, when I used to work just around the corner. See, Memory Lane after all.

There isn’t much to say about Budvar itself, in all honesty, unless one wants to read all about their legal struggles with Anheuser Busch once again, in which case go here. It’s a fizzy, golden confection, quite drinkable as lagers go, with a malty, floral taste and a slightly sweet finish. But it’s served here in peak condition, and in the correct glassware, which is why I brought you back here.

Beer aside, it’s great to see that The Salisbury is still in good hands: manager Jas is still in charge, running a tight ship as always, keeping the pub resolutely sports-free, and effortlessly switching between languages as he guides tourists through a minefield of unfamiliar beers and British pub customs.

Easily one of the better pubs in the area, a bit of nostalgia for your correspondent, and that’s 85 beers ticked off. If that was a bit boring, I have number 100 sat in The Official 300 Beers Cellar (my kitchen) and I can almost taste it now.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Budějovický Budvar, České Budějovice, Czech Republic
Style: Pale Lagers
Strength: 5.0% ABV
Found at: The Salisbury, St. Martin’s Lane, London WC2N
Serving: Keg, pint

84. Bush Ambrée

Let’s continue on our mission to sample our way through the impressive Poechenellekelder beer menu, this time with a daunting 12.0% ABV Belgian amber beer, Bush Ambrée.

Bush Ambrée at Poechenellekelde, Brussels

The deep, rich golden beer certainly looks the part, and as with every single beer I tried at Poechenellekelder—and indeed anywhere in Brussels—it’s served in the correct glassware, in this case a rather nice looking Bush-branded chalice with a pleasing cracked glass effect.

The bottle claims this to be “The Strongest Belgian Beer”, which is a bit of a stretch since the same brewery makes at least two stronger ones, but still, as only the second beer of the evening, I’m already wondering if I’ve peaked too early.

One sip is enough to reassure me that this was a good choice. Sure, it’s boozy, but the warming alcohols are balanced out with a rich, spiced-honey sort of sweetness and a smooth, full body full of delicious sappy malts.

Bush Ambrée is reminiscent of a Barleywine, and while similar in style to Pauwel Kwak, it’s a little lighter and less sticky, making it even more easy-drinking. Which could get dangerous.

But having said that, I really enjoy the culture and civility around beer drinking in Begium. While many of the beers are hopelessly strong, the emphasis is always on quality over quantity. Table service and slow, measured enjoyment of the product are the norm, rather than a fight to the bar and necking as many pints of lager as you can before the bell rings, which is more the British approach.

I rounded off the visit to Poechenellekelder with a delicious, dark St. Bernardus Abt 12. That one isn’t The Book, but it’s probably a good job, since my notes start to become a little less legible at this point.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brasserie Dubuisson, Chaussée de Mons, Pipaix, Belgium
Style: Old Ales, Barley Wines and Vintage Ales
Strength: 12.0% ABV
Found at: Poechenellekelder, Rue du Chêne, Brussels, Belgium
Serving: 330ml Bottle

83. Pauwel Kwak

Beer number 83 is one of those ones that you really do have to travel to enjoy properly. Pauwel Kwak obviously has to be served with its unique glass and wooden stand, and quite frankly you’d feel a bit daft sitting in a boozer in South London with one of these, even if you could find it.

Fortunately, in Brussels no one bats an eyelid, though I suspect this may be more as a result of the number of tourists who order a Kwak just for the glass, rather than the number of Bruxellois who would regularly drink it.

Pauwel Kwak

I ordered this one at the rather wonderful Poechenellekelder—“the puppet cellar”—in Rue du Chêne, an instant favourite bar lined floor-to-ceiling with masques, marionettes, ventriloquist’s dummies and all sorts of black and white photos and assorted historical memorobilia.

Helpfully for 300 Beers, it also has a truly impressive beer menu running to something like 130 beers, almost all of them Belgian.

Poechenellekelder, Brussels

The legend behind the glass, by the way, is that it was designed in the early 19th century by innkeeper Pauwel Kwak—”Fat Paul” to his mates—to be served to coachmen to slip into their stirrup as they rode away on horseback. That’s plainly nonsense, of course, and the truth seems to be that it was invented in the 1980s as a marketing gimmick.

Which is a bit of a shame really, because the fame of the glass tends to overshadow what is in fact a rather wonderful beer.

Pauwel Kwak is a warm, deep, reddish ambrée colour with a big foam head that froths all over the place when poured, but quickly calms down.

It’s thick, rich and a little sticky, and is quite reminiscent of a Barleywine. It’s low on hop bitterness, but full of treacly malt sweetness and warming alcohols.

Kwak is pleasingly strong at 8.4%, though admittedly that’s only the third strongest of three beers I tried in Poechenellekelder that night, thus making the delicious, restorative black coffee I enjoyed there the following day particularly welcome.

All in all, a lovely beer, and one I look forward to trying again some day, perhaps even as part of a return visit to Poechenellekelder before long.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brouwerij Bosteels, Buggenhout, Belgium
Style: Extra Strong Beers and Bitters
Strength: 8.4% ABV
Found at: Poechenellekelder, Rue du Chêne, Brussels, Belgium
Serving: 330ml Bottle

A Visit to Cantillon Brewery

For the beer lover, no trip to Belgium is complete without a visit to the venerable Cantillon brewery, home to some of the world’s most famous Lambics and Gueuzes, sour beers that are certainly an acquired taste, but have the tendency to make serious beer geeks rhapsodise for days.

Ask brewers at the height of their profession, such as Evin O’Riordain of London’s The Kernel, who they’re inspired by, and the answer is Cantillon.

And so it was that a beautiful spring afternoon saw 300 Beers make something of a pilgrimage to 56, Rue Gheude in Brussels. Here’s the brewery itself, complete with matching van:

Cantillon Brewery

The brewery appears closed at first glance, but be brave and open the door, and you step into a time capsule full of evocative sights, sounds and, in particular, smells. Cantillon have been on this site since 1900, and it shows in the accumulated dust and cobwebs. The brewery remains resolutely family-owned, and brewing methods and equipment are virtually unchanged in generations.

You pay a few euros for the visit, including a self-guided tour and samples of two beers. After a brief orientation you’re handed a detailed pamphlet which explains the workings and history of the brewery, and then you’re left to wander around at your leisure.

You can take all the time you want, and even—as I did—go around twice if you wish. I was lucky enough to have the entire brewery to myself, apart from a couple of Cantillon workers manning the bottling line, and another chap studiously washing kegs. The latter task is perhaps one of the least glamorous yet most vital parts of any brewery’s operations.

The brewing process begins with the mash tun, where malted barley, wheat and steaming water are combined to make wort, a thick, porridgy stew full of fermentable sugars and other tasty goodness:

The Cantillon Mash Tun

After being separated from the spent grain—known locally as “Draff”, which is used as animal feed—the resulting wort is pumped upstairs to the copper kettle, where it’s boiled with aged hops to sterilise and condense it, and to fill it with delicious hop resins:

The Cantillon Copper

After several hours of boiling, the wort is pumped up to the attic, where it’s left to cool overnight in a giant copper tray called a “coolship”. This is a crucial and unique part of the Cantillon process, as the attic is open to the elements, allowing the wort to become inoculated with wild yeast from the Brussels air. No yeast is added manually, and the wild yeast is what’s behind the distinctive sour flavour.

The Cantillon Coolship

The next day, the cool, yeasty wort is drained into the stainless steel fermenter where, over several days, the sugars are turned into alcohol by those magic little yeast bugs, and the liquid starts to resemble beer.

The Cantillon Fermenter

I can’t for the life of me figure out how they got that wooden cart up into the attic.

Once fermented, the beer is transferred to decades-old wooden barrels and left to bide its time in the barrel store, where it is aged for up to three years before bottling. The smell in here is fantastic:

The Cantillon Barrel Store

The barrel ageing produces a still, wine-like beer named Lambic, which is the base of all Cantillon products. You’ll have to come to the brewery to try it, though, as almost all of the Lambic is used to make Gueuze. This is a blend of one, two and three year-old Lambics, which are then refermented in the bottle in the brewery’s cellars to become the beers that are sold to the public.

Given the amount of time the beer needs in the barrel and subsequently in the bottle before it is ready, the biggest limiting factor to Cantillon’s output is storage space. The whole place is packed floor to ceiling with dusty bottles laid down. Every nook and cranny is utilised.

Bottles of Saint-Lamvinus in storage at Cantillon

Finally, to the bar for a tasting. Visitors are given a taste of the still Lambic fresh from the barrel (left), and then allowed to choose a further beer to sample. I opted for the Kriek, a Gueuze in which sour cherries have been soaked for around six months, and then bought myself a glass of the classic Gueuze (right):

The Tasting Rooms at Cantillon Brewery, Brussels

The Lambic is reminiscent of a high quality apple juice, albeit an unsweetened one made from sour apples, while the effervescent classic Gueuze is full of zesty grapefruit flavours.

If that isn’t enough sour beer for you, the brewery will happily sell you individual bottles or whole cases to take away with you, at prices significantly lower than you’ll find Cantillon products elsewhere, if you can find them at all. All told, a visit to Cantillon is a fascinating experience and quite a treat for the beer lover.

82. Cantillon Kriek

The time has come for 300 Beers to selflessly embark on a brief, shall we say, “research” trip to Brussels to track down a few of the many Belgian beers still required for this ridiculous quest.

In this case, it’s a sour, cherry-infused beer known as Kriek, which I enjoyed in the tasting rooms at the Cantillon brewery in the Belgian capital as part of a tour of the brewery. You can read all about my visit here.

image

Cantillon Kriek starts life as two year-old, barrel-aged Lambic. Large quantities of sour Schaerbeek cherries are then soaked in the Lambic for around six months, at which point a quantity of fresh, young Lambic is blended in. The resulting blend is transferred to bottles for a period of secondary fermentation, during which time it becomes a delicious, frothy red Gueuze.

I’m not typically a fan of fruit beers, but then it’s fair to say that this isn’t a typical fruit beer. Like all Cantillon beers it’s as sour as can be, and the cherries complement that sourness beautifully.

The result is a satisfying and complex beer, and the tiny hint of sweetness provided by the cherries just offsets the mouth-puckering Lambic sourness, to leave a tart, dry and lingering finish.

Cantillon Kriek is certainly moreish, but its richness means it’s probably best enjoyed in smaller quantities. I’m not sure I’ll become a huge fan of fruit beers just yet, but it certainly makes for a refreshing change, and the chance to enjoy it just feet from where it was brewed, surrounded by the evocative sights, sounds and smells of the venerable Cantillon brewery only adds to the experience.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brasserie Cantillon Brouwerij, Rue Gheude, Brussels, Belgium
Style: Lambic and Gueuze
Strength: 5.0% ABV
Found at: Cantillon Brewery, Brussels
Serving: Taster, poured from a 750ml bottle

81. Adnams Broadside

Whilst I’m not sure that I’ve lived down opting for that somewhat overcomplicated bottle of Affligem Blond just yet, it’s time for 300 Beers to show its face once again in the rather wonderful Grape & Grain, up the hill in Crystal Palace.

Let’s puff out our chest, involuntarily adopt a Cockney accent, and order something a bit more manly this time: a pint of cask Adnams Broadside.

image

Among their 12 handpumps, “the Grape” often have something on from Adnams, one of the most highly-regarded of the old-school English breweries. Like all the other cask ales in this pub, it’s always going to be in great nick too.

And so it is today. Broadside pours a lovely deep ruby or chestnut colour with a smallish off-white head. The aroma is all fruitcake and christmas, while the mouthfeel is thick, rich and just a little sticky.

The flavour is yet more nutty dried fruit and cake, with a dense underlying sweetness. Hops are subdued, making Broadside somewhat reminiscent of a Mild or a Brown Ale, styles of beer which continually prove that low on hops needn’t equate to low on flavour.

And Broadside is full of flavour. It tastes stronger than the nominal 4.7% ABV it claims to be, but goes down as smoothly as can be. Still I’m not sure I could drink more than a couple, as this really is quite a heavy, rich beer. It’s good though.

Broadside is also available in a 6.3% ABV bottled version, named “Strong Original”, acknowledging the fact that Broadside was once a much stronger beer. It’s a testament to Adnams’ considerable brewing skills that they’ve managed to tame the cask version down to the lower ABV without neutering the flavour one bit.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Adnams Sole Bay Brewery, Southwold, Suffolk, England
Style: Best Bitters
Strength: 4.7% ABV
Found at: The Grape & Grain, Anerley Hill, London SE19
Serving: Cask, pint

80. Rochefort 10

This time next week I’ll be in Brussels sampling some of the world’s most famous beers. Tonight though, I’m in a rainy, resolutely ungentrified Camberwell, London at the ever-magnificent Stormbird, one of my very favourite pubs in the world.

I’m reluctant to tell you about Stormbird, because it’s the sort of place you want to keep to yourself, but it truly is wonderful: an Aladdin’s cave for the beer lover, with a mouth-watering and ever changing tap lineup, lovely staff and a civilised, if somewhat youngish, clientele.

It’s time to get some Belgian beer-related practice in, and also to round off the three Rochefort beers we need by putting ourselves on the outside of this 11.3% ABV monster of a Trappist ale, served, you’ll note, in the correct glassware.

image

Without question, that’s a fine-looking beer right there. Rochefort 10 is a rich, deep brown colour with a remarkably dense tan helmet of foam that doesn’t dissipate until the last drop is drunk.

I didn’t detect a huge amount of aroma, at least compared to the eye-wateringly fresh keg Thornbridge Halcyon I’d enjoyed mere moments before. What there is though is distinctly Belgian, and reminiscent of a Dubbel, though a little lighter.

The mouthfeel is thick and smooth, and the flavour is all christmas pudding packed with dried fruits, berries, caramel and booze. That said, the 11.3% payload is well integrated, and while this is a very decadent beer, it’s oh so drinkable, and a lot more subtle than the sledgehammer of flavour and intoxication that was Samichlaus, our previous double-figures leviathan.

Splendid stuff. This would make a great after-dinner beer, to be savoured slowly and swilled around the glass in your favourite armchair. And thankfully, that’s one less ridiculously strong Belgian beer that I need to find next week.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Abbaye Notre-Dame de Saint-Remy, Rochefort, Belgium
Style: Trappist Beers
Strength: 11.3% ABV
Found at: Stormbird, Camberwell Church Street, London SE5
Serving: 330ml Bottle

79. Samichlaus

Now then. For beer number 79, we turn to something a little bit special. Samichlaus is a remarkable beer, which has by turns been described as “the world’s strongest lager”, “perhaps the rarest beer in the world”, and according to its own label, “the world’s most extraordinary beverage”.

Whether any of those claims is true is perhaps best left to the reader to decide, but let’s just say it’s a bit of a stonker. Brewed at Schloß Eggenberg in Austria just once per year on December the 6th, and then aged for 10 months before bottling, it attains a formidable 14.0% ABV.

You rarely see this stuff, but The Draft House’s newest branch, on Seething Lane in the City of London, came up with the goods this weekend, instantly earning a place in your correspondent’s heart at the first visit.

Samichlaus

You can tell just by looking that this is something special, and it certainly is. Reminiscent of a Barleywine or Vintage Ale, it’s rich, thick, spicy and medicinal, with a dense sweetness that can’t possibly compete with the alcohol heat.

In fact there’s a huge, warming alcohol hit that’s very welcome indeed at this time of year. Your lips stick together, your face blushes a fiery crimson, and your head begins to forget all its troubles.

Yet behind all that booze, there’s a truly delicious, complex beer full of dried fruit, spice and sherry flavours.

Samichlaus is the perfect winter beer by design, and it’s one of those beers that you could drink all night if your wallet would stretch to it, or at least if you wouldn’t fall off your chair half way through the second one.

It’s lovely stuff, and a real winter treat. I may well be back for more.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brauerie Schloss Eggenberg, Eggenburg, Austria
Style: Bocks
Strength: 14.0% ABV
Found at: The Draft House, Seething Lane, London EC3N
Serving: 330ml Bottle